Operation Summer Storm (2 page)

* * * *

Summer opened her eyes, sat up, and tried to focus on the small face of her watch. She’d been asleep for over three hours. A slight movement in the corner of the room caught her attention and she yelped in fright.

Long, muscular legs stretched out from beneath the small cane table across the room as Tate Maddox eased his big frame into an upright position casually.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” she demanded once her heart dropped from her throat long enough to allow her to speak.

“We still have some talking to do.”

His deep voice did nothing to make her heart rate slow down. “Have you ever heard of knocking?” she snapped and tried to glance toward the door without alerting him to the fact she was considering making a run for it.

“I want the whole story now,” he said in an imposing tone which left no doubt he expected answers.

“Would you mind going outside while I get dressed first,” she said, tugging her shirt back down into place as she’d slipped out of her shorts as she climbed into bed earlier.

“Start talking,” Maddox told her.

Self-consciously she folded her arms across her chest protectively and tried to ignore the fluttering butterflies in her stomach and the rising heat that flooded her face.
He expected her to conduct business dressed on only a T-shirt and her underwear? This man was too much. Too much man…too much everything!

“My sister’s a photojournalist. She was following a group of aid workers around remote villages in Cambodia doing a story on them when they were attacked and taken hostage by guerrilla soldiers.”

“I have all that in your case file. I want to know about Tréago,” he said in a velvety soft voice. “And don’t think you’re going to be able to scamper off so easily a second time,” he said, letting her know that he’d caught her thinking of an escape.

A cold chill crept down her spine. Her plan to hire these men had seemed like such a sure thing before But, now, face to face with a pissed off Marine—one she’d just threatened to blackmail—it was suddenly not as easy as she had envisioned.

An image of her sister’s face flashed before her. Willow was out there somewhere, frightened, possibly injured, and Summer’s resolve hardened once more.

“Lady you have no idea who the hell you’re dealing with here. If you know half of what I think you do, you’ll know Tréago is not someone you should cross. I want details.”

“That isn’t even relevant right now.”

“You and I have very different ideas about what is and what isn’t relevant so just tell me why you think he’s involved or I walk and you’re back to square one looking for someone to rescue your sister. Let me be clear—there isn’t anyone else to rescue your sister so I suggest you start talking.”

Summer jumped to her feet and moved across the room. “My sister’s life is hanging in the balance here. I don’t have time to play games with you and if you walk away, you’re as good as killing her.” Summer searched his eyes looking for a faint glimmer of compassion. When she saw no flicker of reaction, she gave a low growl of disgust.

“Fine! My sister’s husband, Michael, was an investigative journalist, he’d just returned from Afghanistan, where he’d, witnessed Tréago killing some Marines—leaving them to take the blame for stealing a whole bunch of weapons.” She paused to catch her breath. “Happy?”

His files contained evidence that would show the Marines—a highly trained reconnaissance team, known as Force Recon—had been set up to take the blame for the weapons heist. Weapons, which were worth a fortune on the black-market by various terrorist organizations around the world.

“Keep talking,” he told her, watching her intently.

“Tréago vanished not long after the Afghanistan fiasco, along with a lot of money in his personal bank account. Michael’s research named him as the man behind a much larger scheme. Apparently Afghanistan wasn’t the first time he’d stolen weapons.”

“What do you mean?” His steel like gaze hadn’t moved an inch from her face.

“There were other attacks on weapons depots owned by the U.S. Government in other parts of the world where Tréago had either recently been, or knew well. It looked like a well organized syndicate.”

He seemed to be processing this latest information.

Summer let out a long sigh. “Willow was always suspicious of Michael’s accident. I used to think she was crazy.”

“What’s her part in all this?”

Summer lifted her chin, to face him defiantly. “She’s been piecing together Michael’s story. I think she was using the story on Aide workers in Cambodia as a cover. I suspect she got too close to what she was looking for and that Tréago had something to do with her kidnapping.”

“Where are the files?”

Summer’s gaze darted away from his face. “Someplace safe. Willow told me before she left that if anything happened to her,” her voice trembled over the words, but she managed to re-gather her composure. “I was to find the files…and take care of them.”

“I need to see them.”

“I need my sister back,” she countered.

“Are you trying to piss me off here?” his voice. deceptively soft, sent a ripple of unease throughout her body.

“I’m trying to hire you to find my sister.”

“I don’t think you appreciate how important those files, you say you have, really are.”

“I appreciate that they were important enough that my brother-in-law died because of them. And I’m fairly certain my sister is sitting in some stinking prison because of them…I think I appreciate their significance.”

“Then you’d realize they need to be somewhere safe. Tell me where they are and I’ll make sure they don’t fall into the wrong hands,” he coaxed, but she could see his frustration mounting.

“Yeah right; I’m going to take your word for it that you’re the right hands. How do I know you’re not just going to go and sell it off to the highest bidder, maybe even bribe Tréago himself with it?”

She took a quick step back as he advanced upon her, his movements almost cat-like in their grace. “I’d suggest that you’re not in a position to be questioning my motives,” his dark eyes bored into hers coldly.

With knees shaking and her bravado rapidly fleeing, Summer did the only thing she could think of. She screamed.

Caught off guard, at the blood-curdling scream she let loose, he reacted immediately. Not with a hand across her mouth, but by covering her mouth with his own. Beneath his firm lips, her scream died; her senses scattering like dropped marbles on the floor. For a shocked moment she allowed him to wage an outright assault on her senses until the realization struck that her body was beginning to react in the most alarming way.

His arms clamped around her, as she began to writhe frantically beneath his onslaught. Damn it! She’d been kissing him back!

He lifted his head and she found herself looking up into twin pools of liquid chocolate. The steamy, sinful kind that made your toes curl when the first taste hits your tongue.

For a moment he didn’t say anything, just continued to stare down at her with an unreadable expression in the depths of those dark eyes.

“What exactly did that little outburst achieve?” he asked in a voice that reminded her of sandpaper on timber.

“That either you’re carrying a gun—or you’re really turned on by a woman screaming.” There was a moment of charged silence, and she inwardly berated herself. What was she thinking? She was defenseless except for her wit and sarcasm—both of which had probably just managed to provoke this stranger into assaulting her. Although, for some strange reason the same instinct that told her who he was at the bar now told her he wouldn’t harm her. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on her part—a way to reassure herself she was safe—just before he slit her throat and left her to die.

Somehow, she didn’t think so. There was something beneath this tough exterior. Something she’d almost caught a glimpse of. Her instincts had gotten her this far; she wasn’t going to discount them now. Her gaze fell on his mouth—that distracting mouth—which managed to erase every last scrap of sanity she processed and gave a shake of her head to dislodge the fog of arousal his unexpected kiss had ignited.

“Maybe it’s both,” he murmured in a silky voice, allowing her to pull from his grasp and take a few staggering steps backwards.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she tugged at the hem of her shirt in an attempt to stretch it to an acceptable length before crossing the room to snatch up a sarong from her suitcase. Her fingers fumbled as she tried to tie a knot, at first, but eventually she managed to secure it around her waist. She felt marginally braver now that she was covered.

“I’ll show you a list of what the file contains so you know I’m not lying. Then after you’ve released my sister and the other hostages, I’ll hand over the file and you can do whatever the hell you want with it.”

* * * *

Tate’s gaze zeroed in on her across the room. He felt his attention shift—amongst other things. Summer Sheldon was the sexiest damn thing he’d ever seen. Wearing only a pair of lacy white panties and a tight white T-shirt, she was every man’s
Maxim
fantasy come to life.

She might have used that sarong to try to hide her smooth tanned legs and shapely thighs from his view, but it was too late—he’d already assigned them to memory to drag back out later and think about at leisure. Striving to get his thoughts back on the situation at hand, he growled, “Show me the list.”

She eyed him for the space of a few heartbeats before she reached a decision. As she crossed to the phone and picked up the receiver, he sprang into action. He was by her side and had a hand over hers, slamming the phone back into its cradle before she’d even registered he’d moved.

Her eyes flashed dangerously. “I need to call the front desk.”

“Don’t cause a scene. I don’t want to have to get rough with you, Ms. Sheldon,” he warned.

He released her hand slowly and watched as she dialed the number for the front desk, politely asking for the contents of the safe to be delivered to her room.

He knew of course, that the documents weren’t in the room—he’d searched the place from top to bottom while she was sleeping. If the files were here, he would have found them and been long gone before she’d even realized he’d been there.

A knock sounded at the door a few minutes later and Tate lifted an eyebrow at her in warning not to do anything stupid. Summer flashed him an irritated glance as she opened the door, accepting the sealed envelope from a smiling young bellboy. She thanked him and handed over a tip before closing the door and turning back to face Tate. “Here’s your list,” she said handing him the envelope.

Tate felt her gaze upon him as he opened it but his attention instantly zoomed in on the paper in his hands. As the words registered, he felt a cold sweat break out down his back and across his forehead. Swallowing past a knot in his throat, he forced his face into its usual blank expression and lifted his gaze to meet hers. “The file contains everything listed here?”

She nodded, and he noticed that her arms had slid around her waist in a self- comforting gesture.

His mind raced with the implications this single piece of paper professed. “I’ll be in touch.” He saw the surprise on her face as he brushed past her out the door, taking the envelope she’d just given him. The woman had just tossed him a loaded grenade—one with the potential to blow his world clear out of the water. The desire to see Tréago pay burned like a fire in the pit of his stomach and this one small woman held the lives of four men in her hands—along with the means to keep them trapped in this limbo for a hell of a long time to come. It seemed they were at someone’s mercy yet again.

* * * *

“Sir, looks like we’ve just missed her.”

Samuel Tréago’s hand tightened on the small paring knife he’d been using to slice up an apple when one of his men came to deliver the news.

A gentle breeze played with the silky material draping the gazebo where he sat overlooking a tranquil pond, complete with its own waterfall.

“How could they have just missed her?”

“Bronson and Macintyre say she left on a flight to Denpasar two days ago. They are awaiting your orders sir,” the hard faced bodyguard informed his employer.

“Tell them to follow her and make sure they don’t lose her again,” he snapped, allowing his eyes to linger on the manicured gardens through the gazebo. He couldn’t afford any more mistakes. Already this one was becoming more than a little annoying to continue to contain.

He was a man used to getting his own way. If he couldn’t rely on the people he paid to get a job done, then he’d have to do it himself and make sure it was done properly.

* * * *

Not for the first time in the two days since she’d last seen Tate Maddox Summer’s frustrated thoughts once more turned to her sister. Was she all right? Did the people holding her, value her life as highly as the embassy people had assured her they did? Was she ever going to hear from that obnoxious man again?

The phone ringing in the quiet room, made her jump, and she leapt across the bed, to answer it quickly.

“Meet me outside the motel in five minutes.”