Agent E2: Aidan (Superhero Romance) (The D.I.R.E. Agency) (3 page)

Aidan nodded, his gaze never leaving her.

“What are those things?” She stared at his hand on her arm while he pulled a pair of handcuffs from his waistband.

He clasped the cuff around one of her tiny wrists, the other around his own wrist. “They’re gloves.” He walked back to Willie’s front door.

“They don’t look like gloves to me.”

He kept walking, trying not to notice how her breasts jiggled inside her t-shirt as she struggled to keep up with his stride.

He did
not
think she was hot. No.

A few feet from the door, it opened from the inside. Tristan emerged with one Naylor agent, followed by Young who had the other handcuffed.

“Anyone hurt?” Aidan said.

Shaking his head, Tristan walked toward the D.I.R.E. SUV. “David has a hole in the wall beside his punching bag but he said he didn’t want it fixed. Gonzales is sticking around for clean-up.”

One of the Naylor agents stopped in front of Cassandra. “Are you hurt Ms. Naylor?”

She shook her head. “No, Andrew. I’m fine.”

“I should’ve been more prepared. Mr. Naylor is going to be angry.”

Sighing, Cassandra touched his arm. “This isn’t your fault.”

She gave him a reassuring smile that warred with the hatred planted in Aidan’s mind.

Tristan shoved the agent into the backseat of the SUV.

Helping Young get the other agent in the second vehicle, Tristan came around to talk to Aidan.

They were collecting Naylor agents like baseball cards.

“Want me to come back for you?”

Aidan would tease him about the red mark on his forehead later. “No, we can walk.”

She gasped. “In these shoes?”

Aidan humpfed. “You had no trouble running in them a few minutes ago. I think you can walk a mile.”

“But, it’s
hot
.”

He rolled his eyes. She gave him a cheeky grin.

Yanking on her arm, Aidan started walking on the side of the road, toward the hospital.

“Where’s my brother?”

Her shoulder brushed Aidan’s arm, causing a frisson of electricity to sizzle through his body.

What the hell was wrong with his system?

“Where are you taking me?”

To bed for a really long interrogation. I need to work off some frustration.

He kicked himself mentally.
Stop thinking that way, Monroe. She is not another beautiful woman. She’s a Naylor.

The sun beat down on them,
heat waves rising from the asphalt road beside them. It felt like hell itself outside. Aidan hoped the heat would drain her by the time they reached the hospital.

Cassandra glanced his way. “You don’t talk much.”

He kept walking. “How could I get a word in?”

Stepping on a rock, she stumbled into him, her breast brushing his arm again. Another sizzle fizzled through him.

Breathing through his nose, he put space between them.

“I only asked two questions. That hardly constitutes talking too much.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes. A car honked as it pulled to the side of the road beside them. The passenger window lowered.

“Aidan Monroe, is that you?”

He knew that voice. Knew it too damned well. He’d heard it in the laughter of youth, the throes of passion, the anger of breakup the night she’d humiliated him.

“Hey, Sandy.” He leaned down to look into the car. His high school sweetheart was still pretty, though the lines around her mouth and eyes made her look beyond her age.

She tossed her brown hair over her shoulder. “I heard you were mixed up in all of the stuff going on around here.” Her eyes bounced to Cassandra cuffed next to him.

Cassandra reached into the car and offered her hand for a shake. “I’m Cassandra.” She nodded toward the cuffs. “Aidan likes to get a little kinky, if you know what I mean.”

A suggestive blush stole over Sandy’s face. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

Aidan stretched out his arm in front of Cassandra, backing her away. “Okay, time to go.” Obviously, the woman thrived on making trouble.

“Give Trent and I a call before you leave town. Maybe the four of us can do… something.” Wiggling her fingers at them, Sandra pulled away.

“Yeah, when hell freezes over.” Aidan tugged on Cassandra’s cuffed arm and starting walking again.

“A heartbreaker, huh?”

A career-breaker, yes. Heartbreaker, no. “Nope.”

The breeze lifted Cassandra’s hair from her shoulders. The smell of grapefruit filled his nostrils.

“What do I wear to…
something
with Sandy and Trent? Cocktail, casual…?”

Aidan glared at her. “You won’t be doing much socializing where you’re going.”

She purred under her breath. “Mmm, sounds intriguing. Where are you taking me?” Hugging his arm, she gazed up at him under heavy-lidded eyes.

Look away, Monroe. Eyes ahead.

He kept walking. She would not get to him.

“How are your gonads?”

Aidan stopped short. Cassandra stopped a second later. Talk about gonads. The woman had them. He couldn’t believe she brought that up.

Men had their pride. Didn’t she know that?

She gave him a raised brow and another cheeky grin.

Of course she did.

Leaning in close, Aidan lowered his voice as he inhaled the grapefruit scent of her hair. “My gonads are like steel, baby. Want a feel?”

Cassandra swallowed hard, a blush blossoming up her cheeks. She shook her head.

Aidan kept walking. “How’s the head?”

She cleared her throat. “Still has a knot on it. I may have to press charges.”

“Now you have one in the front to match.”

Rubbing at her forehead, she frowned. “Blast it. Now, I probably look like the Elephant Man, right?” She stopped to let him stare at her.

Taking in her ridiculous high-heeled tennis shoes, up her unfairly perfect legs, past her tiny waist and lingering on her full breasts way too long, his gaze met hers.

Hands planted on her hips, she cocked an eyebrow. “You didn’t even look at my forehead.”

Mmm, nope. “Why would I do that? I’ve already seen it.”

A fierce, red blush stole up her face and neck. She started walking again. “You’re so typical.”

“You said I was beautiful.”

She stopped again. At this point, they may get to the hospital by nightfall.

“I was delirious from electrocution.”

“The truth tends to come out during times of duress.”

“Hah.” She started walking again. “Don’t kid yourself.”

Chuckling to himself, Aidan thought it interesting that Cassandra Naylor had a prideful streak a mile wide.

“I heard it with my own ears. You can’t deny it.”

“I will deny it to my dying day, Mr... shoot, I don’t even know you’re name.”

“Aidan. Aidan Monroe.”

She stopped to stare at him, her eyes round in her ashen face. “Monroe? As in Jim Monroe?”

It all came crashing in on Aidan. Cassandra Naylor and her family were probably responsible for his father’s death. Her father and brother had kidnapped Rachel and held her at gunpoint. Her brother had tried to shoot his mother. How could he stand here and flirt with her like this?

“Yes, Jim Monroe, the man your father had killed, was my father.” 

Her eyes widened.

“Your father deserves to burn in hell. I wish he would’ve just died yesterday and saved us all a lot of trouble.”

The sting to his cheek cut like a newly-sharpened blade. Considering Cassandra had delivered it, he was surprised it hadn’t been a chop to the throat.

“Go ahead. Hurt me.” She lifted her chin. “Hell, kill me. I’m not afraid to die. But it won’t change the fact that my father didn’t kill Jim Monroe.”

“I’m supposed to believe that?”

“I don’t care what you believe. I won’t deny the news pleased him but, he didn’t do it. No one at Naylor Interests had anything to do with your father’s death.”

#####

Cassandra looked around the barren hospital room. Her wrists burned as she struggled to free her cuffed hands behind her metal chair.

Her father and Dar would be so disappointed.

She could defend herself with the best of them, hold her own in a room full of computer hackers, and could hit the black consistently at any firing range.

However, when it came to heading up a simple field operation, Cassandra sucked. Although she had been involved in numerous meetings, she had never been allowed to work the field. The men in her life thought it too dangerous for a woman.

Where did that thinking get them?

One near death, the other in custody of The D.I.R.E. Agency.

Then again, D.I.R.E. had definite advantages she had never seen outside the science fiction channel.

What were those gloves Aidan Monroe wore? What did the armbands do? The “gloves” weren’t really gloves at all. Hundreds of slim, black metal rings circled each of his fingers, with some type of diode covering the tip of each digit. The body of the “gloves” had copper-colored veins throughout that fused with the intricate bands on each of his forearms. They emitted an electrical current, one so powerful it fried her car engine.

She stilled in the hard, cold chair. Why hadn’t he shocked her when he touched her on their walk to the hospital?

Not that the man didn’t cause her body to hum just with his near proximity. A man of confidence – no, make that egotism - his strong, muscular physique made her want to run her hands all over him. He carried a fresh, light scent that reminded her of Grand Lake on a clear, fall morning. And his dimples, God help her, could make her babble like a baby if she didn’t subconsciously scold herself.

When he gave her body a slow perusal on the side of the road, Cassandra thought she would internally combust. Not that men hadn’t done that her entire adult life, it had just never affected her that way.

Why him and why now?

Regardless, she had to will away her feelings. He was the son of her father’s lifelong enemy. A man that hated her because he suspected her family of killing his father.

If Robert Naylor wanted someone dead, it happened. He could’ve killed Jim Monroe a long time ago.

The door opened. A handsome, middle-aged man entered, Aidan and the agent wearing her brother’s shirt on his tail.

The man sat across the table from her. The others stood behind him, staring at her. Cassandra refused to look at Aidan for fear of giving away her physical reaction.

The other agent was definitely eye candy, but didn’t affect her like Aidan. He sported one of the armbands Aidan wore, but had no gloves. None of them carried weapons. If they were normal men, she could probably get out of this mess once she got her hands free. However, she had taken enough shocks today to last her a lifetime.

She had to find d-Artagnan. These three were her best hope.

“Cassandra, my name is Mitchell Jacobs.”

Though her heart pounded inside, Cassandra hoped her face gave away nothing.

So, this was Mitchell Jacobs. The man her father held a vendetta against her entire life. She had always wondered what happened, what had caused the animosity her father felt. Robert Naylor never told her or Dar anything; had only expected their allegiance with him and his hatred.

“You’ve met Agent E1, Aidan Monroe.”

Her gaze glanced off his face then back to Mitchell Jacobs. Aidan’s brilliant green gaze still managed to wedge itself in the forefront of her mind.

“The other is Agent I1, my son, Tristan.”

Cassandra slumped back against the chair. This was the mysterious Tristan Jacobs.
The
primo super-agent of the world. The man whose identity Mitchell had wiped from the record. The man that had foiled most of her father’s business deals over the last year or so.

She flexed her fingers behind her, her hand dangling free of the cuff. It would behoove her to remain submissive. She sat in a room with three of the top agents in the world.

“Where is my brother?”

Mitchell’s face remained expressionless. “We have him in custody, along with several of Naylor Interests’ agents.”

Cassandra released a breath. Dar lived. They had a chance.

Thank you, God.

“What is my father’s condition?”

“Extremely critical. It’s touch and go at the moment.”

“May I see him?”

Aidan’s deep voice echoed in the empty room. “You’ve already seen him.”

She glared at Aidan. He glared back, his hands clenched at his sides.

Leaning back in his chair, Mitchell crossed his arms over his chest. “I’d be willing to let you see him if you answer some questions.”