Seek and Destroy (21 page)

    He couldn't touch her, not the way he wanted to. Hell, he knew better than to even look at her. He had to bury down whatever feelings he had for the lovely Charis McKoy-not that he had any feelings for her. He couldn't give a rat's ass about whether she succeeded on this mission. But he wouldn't let her take the heat for his decision not to return. Not when he knew how much heat the little vixen generated.

    Ah hell. He tried not to think about her, tried not to think about unhooking the rope separating the first class cabin from coach and find her seat on the flight back to Seattle. He'd fought the urge to take her away from the confines of the sardine section, to take her, quite literally, any way possible. No matter what he tried to focus on during the flight, his mind kept drifting back to her and the way she'd writhed beneath him as she milked him dry. His dick woke up, growing semi hard at the memory.

    Shit. He had to stop thinking about her. It left him in a constant state of obvious arousal, his hard-on springing up at the most inopportune moments. Like now.

    He loved the feeling of her snuggling close as she slept on his shoulder, rubbing her pretty little nose against his chest as she slumbered. He wanted to protect her from the world,
needed
to protect her. Which scared the hell out of him.

    Charis McKoy should be nothing to him but another woman. A woman with creamy skin. Silky hair. The most amazing eyes he'd ever had the pleasure to get lost in. She was also the angel from his dreams. After spending the night sheathed in her sweet warmth, he wanted more. He craved her touch, positive he'd starve if he didn't get to taste her again.

    Son-of-a-bitch. He didn't need this. Not now. After spending years building the rock wall encasing his heart, how did one woman, one
night
, change that all?

    He didn't want to think about it. Yet his mind refused to focus on anything but Charis McKoy and how she'd blown through his defenses with just a smile. And then he spotted her sitting in that chair. The cream-colored skirt and matching top made her look so prim and proper, and so different than she did last night. She wore her long dark curls tied back and off her face much the same way she wore it back in the hospital. He didn't usually favor women with glasses. But for some odd reason, he really liked the way they looked on her.

    
Really
liked the way they looked.

    Ah Jesus. She could wear a paper bag and look good. Fantastic, even. She sure as hell looked good with nothing on. He drew in a sharp breath at the memory. His dick jumped in agreement and he knew he needed to focus on something else or face ridicule from Weber when he caught on, if he hadn't already.

    It took a lot of willpower to not pull her into his arms the minute he spotted her today. And when he took a seat next to her, he
smelled
her. Like wild berries and sunshine, her scent made him long for last night. His cock bulged as his hard-on grew, straining against the restraints of his pants.

    He hated sneaking out before she woke up. They'd spent the better part of the night in each other's arms, on the bed, against the wall, the floor, the shower. By the time they'd finally collapsed, the room looked like a twister had passed through. They were exhausted, but he'd fought against the sleep trying to pull him in. He'd watched her as she slept on his shoulder, his arms around her, possessively holding her close. Even now as he remembered how peaceful she looked, how much peace it brought him to simply watch her, to hold her, his heart warmed.

    
Stop
that. He pushed back any feelings his heart may think it feels for the ICE beauty. She was soft and he was lonely. That had to be their only connection. Ah, but damn she delivered a powerful kiss, and the memory of the way she hummed in the back of her throat right before she exploded in orgasm made him fully, and painfully, hard.

    "It sucks, doesn't it?" Weber's voice broke him of his thoughts.

    "What?" He played the innocent card and adjusted himself so the uncomfortable hard-on didn't create a tent in his pants.

    "Wanting something you can't have." His gaze lifted from David's face to the door and back down. "Or at least shouldn't have. You want to tell me about it?"

    He glanced at his friend. "Weber, I doubt you brought me back here to talk about my love life."

    "Interesting choice of words."

    "Piss off. You know what I mean."

    With a sigh, he nodded. "Unfortunately, I do. You want my advice?"

    "Not really."

    "Too bad. Be careful. This one isn't another one of your quests. She's a federal agent."

    "Funny," he retorted. "You said the same thing about your wife when you first met her."

    Shaking his head, Weber grunted. "And look where that got me. Don't say I didn't warn you." If he didn't know any better, he'd say Weber tried to hold in a smile. Damn him.

    He traced the room in a glance, memorizing everything about it. Within seconds he knew how many books lined the rickety wood shelf against the opposite wall. Which ones had green spines. Brown. Black. He knew the size and shape of every trinket, which were sparse, to say the least. Ingrained in his senses since a kid, he had the uncanny ability to commit everything he saw to memory, and then to recall it as if he still looked at it.

    "By the way, you're welcome."

    He brought his attention back to Weber, who seemed to be eyeing him curiously. "What was that?"

    Weber shook his head, a smile spreading across his lips. "I suppose you can now tell me how many buttons I have on my shirt?"

    Eight. "Why should I be thanking you?"

    "I sent McKoy after your ass. I knew she'd find you. I called in ICE when NASSD couldn't find you. The director said she was the best, and not just because she's his daughter. I asked the other directors within NASSD. They all agreed Charis McKoy could find anyone plugged into the system. It was a bonus she's pretty. I knew you had a thing for her so, naturally, I brought her in on this."

    "My guess is it isn't just on this job." He knew NASSD protocol, and he definitely knew Weber. The director wouldn't waste his time with ICE unless he planned to use the same agent more than once.

    He laughed out loud, something Weber rarely did. "You are a perceptive son-of-a-bitch, you know that?"

    Yes, he did know that. "What about her brother?"

    He laughed again and David found himself really annoyed at his reaction. Since when had the surly Dan Weber become so jovial? "Chris? In Pakistan on assignment."

    "So he's in?"

    Weber lost his smile and threw him a baffled look. "He was always in. I brought him in personally."

    "Funny," David mentioned, careful to keep his growing temper in check. "Charis was under the impression if she didn't succeed in bringing me back, you'd kick his ass back to ICE and pretty much slam the door on any ICE agent wanting to transfer into NASSD."

    "Are you shitting me? I never said that. That would be intel suicide. Hell, over half of the crew in that division came from ICE. Who told her that?"

    He didn't know, and after seeing his reaction, David believed this was the first Weber had heard of it. "You'll have to ask her."

    "You bet your ass I will. I don't like sending agents in under false pretenses, even if they are ICE." He pulled a tablet out of his shirt pocket and made a note.

    "So you really didn't tell her why you wanted me back?"

    "Hell, no." He kept his eyes on his tablet as he continued to make notes. "Shit like this can get an agent killed," he muttered and made a few more notes, all the while cussing up a storm under his breath.

    Something David said really set him off. But what? Without looking up, Weber asked, "Anything else she said seem out of place?"

    "Yeah." He thought back to her comment about Weber not telling her why NASSD needed him back. Either she lied, or Weber did. "Why didn't you brief her on why NASSD wants me back so badly?"

    "Need to know basis only," he stated and shook his head.

    "Don't you think that counts as sending her there under false pretenses?"

    "Did she tell you I wouldn't talk to anyone but you?"

    David nodded.

    "Then no. I didn't lie to her, and she didn't lie to you. She really has no idea why I need you back. No one at ICE does. Hell, no one at NASSD does." He looked at him. "And it needs to stay that way, at least right now. Did you come in through the back?"

    David nodded again.

    "Good. Sally doesn't know you're back, then?"

    "That's right."

    "All right," he sighed. "So Charis is the only agent who knows you're back?"

    "Aside from you."

    Weber made a few more notes. Without looking up, he asked, "Pass any cameras on your way in?"

    He counted down from ten so not to raise his voice. What was with all the bullshit questions?

    "Cameras?" Weber looked at him when he didn't answer right away. Something in his eyes didn't settle well. They pierced into him. He seemed far too interested in whether or not anyone else knew David now sat alone five stories below ground with a director from the counter-terrorist agency.

    "I know the angles. I know how to disappear."

    "You are sure?"

    "Check the surveillance. You won't see me." Now why the hell did he just admit that? He knew the room they sat in didn't have any surveillance equipment.

    Interesting.

    "What the hell is this? Why don't you want anyone to know about me?"

    Weber shook his head. "For what I'm putting together, it's crucial no one else knows."

    Well, that didn't really clear things up. If anything, it only heightened his increasing suspicions. "Why pull ICE into this then if you want to keep me hidden?"

    "ICE has," he paused, contemplating his words, "certain talents we don't. They may be the biggest PITA to work with, but they are a necessity."

    David thought about Charis. Did he consider her a pain in the ass, or PITA as Weber so affectionately referred to them? Her taste lingered on his breath, her warmth on his flesh. His skin prickled at the memory.

    Hardly a PITA.

    "This is the most painful goddamn thing I'll ever admit," he grunted before looking at David. "No one at NASSD can do what she can."

    "And that is?"

    "McKoy is what you call an e-tracker, and from what I understand, a damn good one. I knew, after I'd exhausted NASSD's resources, she'd be able to find you."

    "That's why you called her in?" he asked suspiciously. He knew Weber better than that.

    "I remember how you reacted to her back in the hospital. What better way to ask you to return than to send you a peace offering?"

    
Peace
offering? Or
piece
offering? "Interesting choice of words," he threw Weber's words back at him. He felt the wave of anger growing. Charis believed she'd paved the way for all other ICE agents, that she alone had secured her brother's future as a NASSD agent. The brilliant light in her eyes would falter after hearing she had nothing to do with it. And that really pissed him off.

    "It worked, didn't it?" Weber countered.

    Hell yeah, it worked. He hadn't been able to focus all week. If he hadn't already memorized every inch of the resort, he wouldn't have been able to remember the color of the building, let alone where he'd been hiding out for the past year.

    Now he understood why NASSD sent her to retrieve him. It had nothing to do with her ability as an agent. Hell, it had nothing to do with
his
ability as an agent. No, it had everything to do with the fact she was a woman, and how much he noticed that fact.

    "Let's talk about why I'm here. Speaking of which... How
did
she find me?"

    Weber shrugged. "You got me. I guess she got lucky."

    
You could say that
. He kept his comment to himself. He placed one booted foot, then the other up on the corner of the table. "Now what?"

    Weber's face remained expressionless. Without blinking he karate-chopped the souls of David's boots and knocked his feet back down. "Show some respect. I'm still your boss."

    He smiled at his friend. He loved that someone like Dan Weber took over the Western Region of NASSD after the chaos from the last director. At least this one wouldn't end up trying to kill off his best agents, and end up getting himself killed while trying to save his own sorry ass. "For how long?"

    "How long are you back?" Weber countered, sat back and folded his arms.

    No way. He knew better than to blindly agree to this, not when NASSD had already tried to throw him over to ICE once. Instead of answering, he simply shrugged.

    It hurt. He ignored the pain.

    "How about we talk about why you're here."

    "I figured you missed me."

    Weber narrowed his eyes. "You haven't changed one bit, you know that?"

    He lifted his right shoulder to stretch it out.
Yeah, aside from getting shot and losing my spot on the NASSD's lineup. I haven't changed at all.

    A buzzing from Weber's pocket broke through the silence. He pulled out a cell phone and looked at the number. Cussing, he opened the phone and answered. "What's up?" He nodded at David, then signed to him it was JT on the other line. "Oh really? Yes, I guess good news does travel fast." He pulled the phone away and David heard the audible squealing on the other end.

    
McKoy
called JT and told her you're back
, Weber signed.

    
I'm not back, yet.
David signed in return.