Code of Control (20 page)

Chapter Twenty-two

Nolan never got
to finish their startling conversation.

Just as he was
about to ask her for more, no lies, no meandering away from full disclosure, he
heard a vehicle pull up alongside the building, cutting off his thoughts.

“We have
company, dear. Put out your best China.” He was not ready for more pain from a
bunch of bastards who smelled like death run over, however.

“I’m sorry,
Honey,” she said, her voice sounding angry. “I did not bring the good China
along on this trip. I’ll do better next time.”

Two seconds
later, an outside door opened, then the lock to the door getting a key shoved
into it.

“Ready for round
three?” he probed.

“Nope.”

Her indrawn
breath reduced the glib humor inside him in mere heartbeats. “Neither am I,” he
said.

Before the door
opened, she got out, “Nolan?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. For
everything.”

“I’m sorry, too,
sweetheart.”

Two of the
original seven then came into the room, grabbing his and her arms and yanking
them to their feet. Nolan swore, Charlotte started trembling.

“Fucking Hell! A
little gentler, please,” he blurted, unable to hold back the sentiment.

“Movimieto.”

“Yes, yes, I
know. Move or you shoot.”

It was slow
movements, still tied to Charlotte, but doable.

One of the men then
produced a knife. He shoved it between them, cutting the rope. “Movimieto,” he
repeated.

Nolan walked out
of the room, hoping not to spook them into actually using their guns. He
discovered a table with food in another room. The man still holding Charlotte
pushed her toward a chair.

“Comer esto,” he
said firmly.

“I am not eating
this swill,” she snapped at the man, pointing to what looked like dead Howler
monkey.

The man got very
angry, shoving her to her knees, yanking her head back by grabbing her hair.
Charlotte cried out to the pain, trying to reach for his hands. Her reward was
a hard punch to the side of her face.

Nolan’s reward
was adrenaline spiking too quickly in his gut again.

“Let her go!
We’ll eat,” he interjected.

Before things
got ugly and out of his control, he sat down, flinching.

The other man
started to laugh, flapping his arms again. “Aves,” he said, drawing the man
holding Charlotte into his mirth. Two seconds later, they left, slamming the
door.

Nolan heard the
lock set.

“My, that went
well,” he grumbled.

Charlotte took
her time gaining her feet; tears welled in her ears. She rubbed the back of her
head where the man had pulled her hair, her palm then set to her face. She was
tough. She’d survive, so he wasn’t going to mention the bruise she’d likely get
from pressing her luck.

“Come, sit;
enjoy this delicious meal our delightful hosts provided us.” He grabbed a piece
of meat. He did not care what it was. It was food and he was starving.

Charlotte took
up a chair, grabbing a piece, too. She shoved it into her mouth. “Tastes like
chicken,” she mumbled; her mouth full of sustenance.

“How would you
know?” he teased, trying to make her smile.

Tear-brimmed
eyes reached for his. “I can eat chicken. I just don’t like being around them.
In fact, I find them quite delicious when starving to death.”

“This is not
chicken, Charlotte.”

She raised a
hand in his face. “Don’t tell me. I don’t care. I’m hungry.”

They devoured whatever
the sacrificed animal was in front of them in breakneck speed.

“Do you think
they left?” she asked.

Nolan listened. He
heard the distinct sound of an engine starting up then driving away from the
building. “They have now.”

“I’m guessing
they are going to get into a lot of trouble for forgetting to retie us,” she
construed.

Nolan’s smile
grew. “Probably. I’m sure Fat Man will cut off their nuts when he finds out.”

“How long are we
going to give it?”

“A few minutes.”

“Five at most,”
she elaborated.

“Just because
you are no longer tied to me does not mean you are in control,” he warned.
“I’ll be the judge to when we should leave.”

“By all means
Agent Morgan…I am officially stepping down the ladder rungs from this one.
You’re in complete control of our destiny from now on.” She reset her hand to
her face where the man punched her.

Pity swelled
inside him in breakneck speed.

“Damn right I am,”
he said rakishly, as her gaze met his.

“Um, about, you
know…”

Nolan stopped these
words with a raise of his hand. “When we get out of this mess you can tell me
all about your horrific childhood. Until then, keep it under lock and key.”

“You’re still
mad at me,” she confirmed, glancing away.

“I’m going to be
mad at you for a very long time. Let’s be clear on that from the get go. For
now, I’ve got better things to occupy my thoughts than anger.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” he
grinned. “How that set of keys they forgot to take with them is going to get us
out of here.” He pointed to the keys left near the door.

Charlotte was
the first to rise from her chair, but Nolan was the first to get his hand onto
the keys. “I thought you said I was in control,” he taunted, holding the keys
in her face.

Her blue eyes
looked up at him. “You are.”

“Then back off
and watch a seasoned operative do his thing.”

“Um, your
thing
?”
she said laughingly. “By all means, Agent Morgan, please do your
thing
.”

He ignored her
ploy to get his goat, using one of the keys to take apart the screws holding
the lock in place. Who the hell needs a key when you have a resourceful brain? The
lock fell apart and the door quickly opened. A cautious peer outside to check
for men with guns who hadn’t left the compound, the coast was clear but it was
dark again. Damn. They’d lost a full day while trapped inside a back room. They
would have to hoof it in the dead of night and he was not looking forward to this
with Charlotte in tow.

“Ready?” she
asked from directly behind him.

“I was born
ready,” he teased.

“That’s my line.
You can’t have it.”

“We’ll share it.
How’s that sound?”

“Reasonable,”
she concurred.

“I’m anything
but reasonable at this point.” Checking his sarcasm, he took a small step out
the door then stopped to listen. Charlotte reached for his hand, holding on
tight. He glanced down at her firm grip.

“What? I’m not
losing you out there,” she said.

His chuckle went
deep. “And here I thought it was because you wanted to hold my hand.”

“No. You’re
still mad at me. Why the hell would I want to hold your hand?”

“I already told
you I don’t have the time to be mad at you.”

“Doesn’t mean
you’re not mad at me,” she ascertained.

A sidelong
glance at her face, he said, “Fine, yes, I’m mad, but I’ll get over it.”

Her eyes met
his. “Promise?”

“Charlotte,
please? Let’s just get out of this mess. Can we save the therapy session to an
estranged relationship for later?”

She opened and
closed her mouth in mute horror, and it was the cutest thing he’d ever
witnessed. Instinct, little else, had him leaning down and kissing her cheek.
At the last possible second, she turned her head and his mouth made contact
with her lips. The kiss short and sweet; he drew back, staring at her boldness.

“What? I wanted
a real kiss. Sue me.” She did not even try to hide her smile.

Pissed momentarily
for the subtle move, he set his mouth to hers again, rammed his tongue deep
into her, his hand grabbing the back of her neck, drawing her as close as he
could get her. Stupid and foolish and knowing better than to give in to a con,
he eased back, licking his lips.

“There. It did not
kill you to give me a proper kiss, now did it?” she asked before he could utter
a word.

Nolan chuckled. “No.
It did not kill me to kiss you.”

“Didn’t think it
would,” she reconfirmed.

His body now taut
with need, he forced himself away from her. “Can we leave now?”

“Ready when you
are,” she said.

“I was born
ready, sweetheart.”

“So you say.”

Their eyes met. “Are
you going to be like this until we find North American soil?”

“Be like what?”

“Your usual
self?”

Charlotte
punched him hard on the arm without the broken wrist. “Would you stop stealing
my lines?”

“I’ll stop
stealing your lines as soon as you give me back my twenty millions dollars.”
His arched brow signaled this threat as reasonable, but Charlotte’s gasp was
anything short of loud. “What? Did you think I would forget about the money?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the
problem?”

“I thought you
would be a whole lot better at the timing. And it is not your money; it’s the
agency’s money.”

“You don’t
really know who you are dealing with, do you?” he slipped out, unchecked. At
this point, it no longer mattered what she knew. He had enough against her than
she could find to use against him in ten lifetimes.

“Excuse me?”

“I am
OSHIT
,
sweetheart. Head, heart and CEO. You screw with me and eventually it will
backfire in your face. Didn’t see that one coming did you?” he said smugly.

Charlotte’s eyes
grew wide. She did not respond in words, seemingly astounded he pulled a fast
one on her.

“Perhaps your
contact in Belize needs removal. He did not do you any favors by not digging deep
enough into my background. I own
OSHIT
. I created
OSHIT
. I
am
OSHIT
.”

“You’re a big
pile of shit if you think I’m going to believe you, Nolan Morgan.”

“You don’t
believe me, Ms. Raven?” His brow furrowed deep. How could she not believe him?

“No. I don’t.”

“Why?”

She shrugged as
they worked their way across the clearing near the building, and then into
dense undergrowth at a rapid pace. “You’re not that devious.”

Nolan stopped
dead in his tracks, facing her. “What does owning a counter-intelligence firm branched
off the FBI have anything to do with deception?” Two raised brows stopped this
foolish question. “Okay. I should have asked how you can’t believe I created
OSHIT
instead.”

“I never said you
did not create the company.”

“Then what did
you say?”

“I can’t believe
the money as yours.”

“Remember when I
told you my grandparents kept the farm?”

“Yes.”

“They were well
known bootleggers in the `30’s.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

He and Charlotte
then continued onward, putting distance between them and the building, and a
bunch of ass-bastards with guns.

“And that made
you rich?” she asked behind his back.

“My brain made
me rich. The illegal alcohol kept the pot full until I came into my own.”

“What about
Devon?”

“He doesn’t
know.”

“How can he not
know?”

“Easy.”

She yanked on
his hand, slamming on the brakes. “Non-acceptable answer, Mr. Morgan.”

“Okay, Ms.
Raven, the acceptable answer is I made certain he never finds out.”

“How is that
working out for you? Well?”

He gave her a
rakish grin. “Apparently it’s not working that well. He owes a drug cartel
money. I’d say he knows about the hidden funds.”

“Or…” she
construed.

“Or what?”

“He’s playing
them, same as I played you,” she said.

“It’s possible.”
It was painful to admit such a fact, but hell, he’d admitted worse to her.

“I’m hoping its
probable,” she added.

“Why?”

“I like Devon.”

“
Like
like, or hot and heavy panty-wetting like?”

“I’m not even going
to dignify that with an answer.”

Nolan turned,
maneuvered her into his arms, and planted a claiming kiss on her lips. He eased
back, enjoying the widening of her eyes and arched brows.