Capturing Callie (2 page)

As luck would have it, Ian was already dressed in black jeans and boots. It hadn’t taken him but a second to pull on a black hooded sweatshirt and grab a penlight. Moving quickly through his dark home and sliding stealthily out the French doors leading to the patio stairs down to the dock, he was surprised to see Jace already in place.
Two minutes my ass.
Donning the goggles, they moved silently down the stairs, staying to the side in the shadows of the trees. The cloud-covered moon would work to their advantage unless the intruders had night-vision optics as well, then it would be an even playing field.

Whoever the intruder was, he certainly wasn’t a professional. They’d caught a glimpse of the interloper just as he’d landed unceremoniously on his ass on the dock’s synthetic decking. The recycled material he’d used when building the small dock might be state of the art for durability, and it looked so much like naturally aged wood that most people couldn’t tell the difference, but the stuff was noisy as hell. That had been a real sticking point and had sent the product back through McGregor Holdings’ R & D department more than once. But at this moment, Ian was grateful he hadn’t replaced the prototype with the much quieter third-generation product.

Watching as the trespasser scrambled around in a tangle of arms and legs, he and Jace had looked at each other in disbelief. Hell, the ruckus the joker was making would have been enough to attract attention even without the motion-sensing alarms that were no doubt lighting up Jace’s office at this very moment. Ian watched as the guy fell not once, but three times trying to get his small boat tied securely and to unload his gear from the small dinghy.

Ian looked over at Jace just as the former soldier looked up at him grinning and just shook his head and chuckled. Just as Ian returned his gaze to the walkway, he noticed wisps of blonde wafting in the soft breeze. Those few escaped strands had obviously been what had attracted his attention earlier. He and Jace must have reached simultaneous conclusions, because just as he’d noticed the soft voice cursing a blue streak was definitely female, Jace gave him a quick but completely inappropriate hand sign for woman. Ian caught his snort of laughter just before it had broken free and managed to simply nod his agreement. The realization that they were dealing with a female prowler was definitely a mixed blessing. On one hand, restraining the tiny slip of a woman was going to be a piece of cake, but on the other hand, their usual methods of interrogation were going to need to be altered—significantly altered.

Callie Reece would rather have eaten mustard-soaked sardines at every meal for six months than take this assignment. But her kid sister’s tuition was due in just over a month, and Callie’s editor had made it crystal clear that this assignment was
nonnegotiable.
Either she delivered the goods on the super exclusive sex club on the other end of this small island or she’d be out looking for work in the worst job market in over a decade.

Finding herself lost in those fears had been just enough distraction for the old “Calamity Callie” to rear her very unladylike head in a big way. Fracking fairy farts, she’d fallen down three times. Hell, she was going to be black and blue from head to toe at this rate. She was tired—no, she was exhausted. Lord love a leper, who knew rowing that small boat would be such hard work. She’d been aiming for an isolated beach not far from the other end of the island, putting her much closer to where she’d been told the entrance to Club Isola was located. But she’d run out of steam and the current had brought her to this small dock. She’d planned to hide the boat in the nearby trees and then make her way closer to the club before camping out until she could gather information tomorrow evening. She’d reasoned she’d be able to do all of this undetected and make her way back to the mainland without anyone being the wiser. But now that she hadn’t been able to conceal the boat, she needed a Plan B, and she needed it ten minutes ago.

Patting her bag to make sure she hadn’t lost her phone, she decided she’d just have to call her editor and have someone retrieve her weakling self when she’d gotten enough information to write the article that he’d so indelicately called her “Career Saver.” Just as she reached the end of the walkway, she heard the soft rustle of fabric being moved against foliage just before she felt a hand that had to be made of steel grasp her upper arm. She let out a startled gasp a heartbeat before all her years of self-defense training kicked in, and she became the wildcat all her instructors had preached that she needed to become.

* * * *

As the head of security, Jace had been the one to step forward and wrap his hand around the small woman’s arm. He’d known she was small, but he’d been shocked when his hand had completely encircled her bicep. And he’d been completely blindsided by her reaction. She hadn’t screamed as he’d expected, she’d merely gasped a split second before she had gone completely warrior princess on him. Standing just over six and a half feet tall, he rarely had anyone, man or woman, challenge him, so he’d been shocked when the woman had actually landed a couple of decent blows before he’d corralled her.

Trying to salvage some of his dignity had quickly become a nonissue when he’d heard Ian’s soft chuckle as he stepped forward to help secure the imp’s wrists in a pair of flexi cuffs. Once they had the woman’s hands immobilized behind her, he realized she was nearly as lethal with her legs, so he had simply wrapped his hands around her muscular calves and dropped her onto her ass while he waited for Ian to link several of the plastic zip-ties he’d brought along and secure them around her slender ankles. Standing her up he’d been shocked to discover she couldn’t have been over five feet one inch tall and that counted the damned Catwoman boots she was sporting.

Swearing softly, he promised himself he was going to take that damned vacation Ian had been ragging on his ass about for the past six months. The day a ninety-pound pixie was able to push her elbow into his diaphragm was the day he needed to head back to the ranch and regroup.

* * * *

Ian had watched as Jace struggled with the tiny tigress. And he had struggled to not laugh out loud when he’d heard the large man’s
oomph
as she’d landed a solid elbow jab to Jace’s solar plexus. Hell, connecting a blow like that to a former SEAL was enough to earn her a point or two up the respect ladder. Grateful for the moon’s reappearance, Ian stepped close and secured zip-ties around each of her slender ankles and then linked them together so that she’d still be able to walk taking small steps, but wouldn’t be able to kick out at them or run. Surprised that she hadn’t said a single word, he stepped forward and pulled the black knit cap from her head and nearly swallowed his tongue. The cascade of wavy blonde silk that fell around her shoulders before heading toward the top of her ass was the stuff of his every fantasy and wet dream. He couldn’t wait to get the black smudge paint off her face because he was sure the little sprite was going to be a stunner.

Watching as Jace gathered her gear, Ian kept his hand on her elbow. When Jace turned back to them and nodded, Ian said, “Come,
Carlin.
” The minute he’d spoken the words she’d frozen and turned to him.

Ian watched the little warrior closely. Her face was bathed in the moonlight, and once again he wished she wasn’t wearing that damned face paint because he was certain her skin would be luminous in this light. When she asked, “What does that mean?” he’d been surprised that a woman who had fought with such strength would have a voice that was a soft, airy siren’s call.

Looking down at her, he answered, “It’s an Irish girls’ name and means ‘little champion.’ Now come along.” They hadn’t made it but a few steps along the path leading to his home when she stumbled again. Hell, what was with her anyway? She seemed to be the most uncoordinated woman he’d ever encountered—that is until she had started fighting and then she had been pure poetry in motion. Suddenly Ian realized his evening had just gotten a whole lot more interesting. Leaning down, he scooped her up into his arms. When she started to struggle, he simply squeezed her tightly to his chest and whispered, “Be still or I’ll drop you.” He was pleased when she settled immediately.
Hmmm—a submissive criminal? That would be a novel concept.
Suppressing the urge to laugh, Ian took the lead as they made their way back up the steep, carved rock steps leading to his home.

When they reached the back entrance, Jace stepped in front of him and tapped the code into the security system and then opened the door. “I’ll secure these and meet you in your office in fifteen. That should give you time to get that crap off her face. We need to be able to see her while we sort this out.” Then after glancing in her direction he returned his gaze to Ian before adding, “If I were you, I’d leave the little she-devil bound.” With that he turned and stormed down the hall toward his own office and quarters.

Ian had already set her on her feet and watched as she winced at Jace’s words and then turned back to him. When she looked up at him, he felt like he’d been hit by lightning. Her eyes were the most amazing shade of violet he’d ever seen. There was almost something mystical about their color, and he suddenly understood the fascination Russians had with tanzanite. Looking at her, he was immediately hit by the zing of sexual awareness that seemed to arc between them. He felt a connection that he’d only read about in the ancient folklore tales his father had always insisted he study. The elder McGregor had reminded his son repeatedly about the importance of honoring “the gift of his Irish heritage.” Before this moment, Ian would have sworn the old romantic tales were nothing but pure fiction. But now? Now he had to wonder if his father hadn’t been a lot wiser than Ian had ever known.

Taking her elbow firmly in hand, Ian led her to the small washroom off his office. Since he didn’t trust her, he entered the small room also. He cut the zip-ties, then turned to her and simply said, “Strip.” Watching as her eyes went wide and then dilated before they turned to ice, he had almost laughed when she tried to appear taller by standing on the balls of her feet. Jesus, the defiance was coming off her in waves, but there was an underlying sensuality that had been sparked to life. He’d seen it flicker in her eyes before she’d managed to effectively hide it. If he hadn’t been a trained Dominant, he was sure he wouldn’t have caught it, but it had been there, even if for only a millisecond. When she didn’t make any move to comply with his order, he took one step forward and watched as she tried to step back but stopped when her ass came up against the countertop. “What is your name,
Carlin
?”

“It’s…um…Callie. Callie Reece. Who are you? And why do you want me to strip?” Her voice had trembled in genuine fear, and while he didn’t want her comfortable, he didn’t want her so afraid of him that she completely shut down emotionally either. Hell, they’d never find out anything if she clammed up. Best she enjoy at least some of his attention, so he decided he’d give her a few options to consider.

“Well, Callie, my name is Ian McGregor and this is my home. As a matter of fact, I own the entire island you just tried to sneak onto. As to why you have to strip, I have to make sure you aren’t armed, and I want that crap washed off your face. And since I don’t trust you and I think you might well attempt to make a break for it, I’ll be staying right here. Now, either you strip or I’ll strip you. And if I do it, you’ll get a paddling for my trouble, is that clear enough?” Ian knew he wasn’t going to win any “Host of the Year” awards, but the tiny troublemaker was getting to him in a big way and he was losing patience with himself as well as with her continued deer-in-the-headlights stare.

Deciding to see how she’d react to his full-on Dom tone, he barked, “Now, Callie. Strip or suffer the consequences.” Seeing the pulse at the base of her slender neck speed up as her breathing become more and more shallow, he was pleased to see her toe off her boots before unsnapping her jeans and lowering them before kicking them aside. When she slowly lifted her T-shirt over her head, he nearly came on the spot at the sight of her standing before him in a tiny black lace thong and front-closing bra.
God Almighty, the woman is an erotic dream come to life.
“Very pretty, but it all goes. When you have removed the last two pieces, spread your legs shoulder-width apart, and relax your arms at your sides. I’m not going to hurt you, pet, but I am going to make sure you don’t have any weapons hidden…anywhere. And then you’ll step into the shower so that I can see the beautiful woman I know is hiding beneath that black smudge.”

Callie was sure she was going to faint, she was starting to see tiny black spots in her vision, and she knew her breathing was too fast, but she couldn’t seem to slow it down. She could hear the blood rushing through her ears, and it felt like her fingers were going numb. When he’d said he was going to check her for hidden weapons, her mind had flashed to all the old movies she’d watched as a teenager about women in jails and cavity searches, and she’d gotten so lost in those thoughts she had skated right over the edge of fear and into full-blown panic mode. In the back of her mind she heard him directing her to breathe with him and felt his hand splayed over her chest as his other arm held up. When she finally regained her focus, she realized he’d already removed her underwear and was moving her under the warm spray of the shower. Even though he was in the shower with her, he had left on his formfitting jeans and she watched in awe as they molded to him until there was little left to the imagination.
Holy crap! Did he have to be so damned gorgeous? And aroused? And well endowed? Geez, can’t I at least catch a break once in a while?