Dangerous to Know (13 page)

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Authors: Dawn Ryder

BOOK: Dangerous to Know
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“Greer can take point,” Saxon decided.

“Don't test me.” Mercer sent his commanding officer a hard look. “You know damn well a switch will tip off our delivery man. I admit I'm questioning whether or not Zoe is guilty of anything more than having a dirty family member, but that won't affect my performance.”

“Fine, you're right … we need something more to close this case now that intel moved while she was here with us. Tim might be our man but that still leaves her brother involved.”

“And she's the only link we have,” Mercer finished.

Saxon didn't like it, but Mercer was more concerned with the surge of victory traveling along his insides. It was too hot, too intense for just the satisfaction of knowing he was going to get the chance to bring down a traitor.

It was personal.

The sort of emotional tie he didn't have time for. It was also the kind of thing that got men killed because they lost the ability to be objective. Saxon recognized it. His CO was mentally running the facts through his brain, trying to formulate an alternative plan. Saxon let out a soft word of profanity before he nodded. It was a bittersweet victory, because going back in just might get them both killed. Mercer followed Saxon into the living room where Zoe was strapped to the chair.

He'd deal with it. Somehow, some way. Nothing had changed about the mission, and he'd just have to bury his feelings deep enough to keep his guard up.

That was the part he was going to need his luck for.

Because when it was over, Zoe would be dealing with him.

Personally.

*   *   *

“We need to talk.”

Saxon sat down in front of her again.

“So remove the duct tape.” Zoe wanted to sound more forceful, but the silence had taken a toll on her resolve. Left alone, she'd battled to ignore her rising sense of helplessness.

“We'll talk first.” The jerk took out a pocketknife but only flipped it over a few times. “My offer is for you to cooperate fully with my team.”

“In exchange for what?” Zoe asked bluntly.

He flipped the knife a few more times, his expression stone-hard. “The chance to prove your innocence.”

“You mean my family's.”

Saxon leaned closer and opened the knife with his thumb. He did it with such ease, never even looking down. “Better worry about yourself.”

He slid the blade beneath the tape and jerked it upward.

“Do you honestly think you're the only one who understands team values?” she asked him.

Her barb hit a soft spot. Saxon snapped the blade back into position and shoved his chair away from hers.

“What I know is you'd better think long and hard before trying to take my team out.” His eyes darkened.

Zoe refused to accept that.

She yanked the tape off. Several pieces of her hair went along with the silver mess, drawing a snarl from her.

“Mercer is your partner, and your superior,” Saxon informed her.

“Like hell he is.” She tried to throw the ball of tape but it clung to her fingers and she had to settle for scraping it off on the side of a table. Very unsatisfying.

“He'll sneak into your place tonight. Hopefully whoever was on your home system will think you're alone.”

“He can sit on the curb and wait for me to call him in,” Zoe countered.

“You'll miss me too much,” Mercer replied.

Zoe gave herself a little push, sending the chair rotating around so she could stare at him.

“Like a wart.”

She stood up, relief flooding her and pissing her off at the same time. She resented having to be grateful for her freedom. Resented it because it made her realize just how fragile normalcy really was. Things she took for granted were actually privileges that she'd been overlooking the value of. Some asshole was really close to taking those basic rights away; her personal privacy had already been trampled. She ended up looking back at Mercer, bitter over the facts. She'd thought him out of her league but didn't really care for the sting of discovering she was nothing but an assignment.

“Greer and Maddox will be backing you up, along with other members of my team,” Saxon interrupted. “You won't see them unless I want you to. So don't try anything stupid. Run and they'll catch you.”

There was a hard warning in his voice, and he backed it up with a look designed to make her knees quiver. Zoe refused to buckle.

“Fine,” she agreed. “What's my part?”

Her firm poise earned her a flicker of respect in his eyes, but his expression never softened.

“Get back to your place, wait for Mercer. We'll see if you can find a way to convince me you aren't in on the transfer. Let's see if your dad's buddy makes a try at connecting with you.”

Part of her really hoped so.

Part of her was horrified at the very real possibility that Tim was a traitor. That knowledge was going to shred her dad. Her too. A lifetime of trust was going up in smoke as she realized that Tim was very likely guilty. That, or some wacko had access to her house. Both left her feeling like she needed to kill someone.

“If your team is watching me so closely, I don't need Mercer along for the ride,” she argued.

“If you're telling the truth and you aren't in on this, you damn well need me watching your back, Zoe, because you can't prove anything if you're dead.” Mercer stepped between her and Saxon. She caught a glimpse of Saxon rolling his eyes before the team leader turned his back on them, making it clear he'd made his decision.

“I don't need you.”

But she was too damn aware of Mercer, which was just another point in favor of leaving him behind. Arousal warmed her skin even as her memory offered up the feeling of his gun against her neck.

Nitwit …

“Yes you do.” Hard, curt, and without a shred of mercy, his words didn't draw any attention from his team members, either. They seemed perfectly willing to let the drama unfold without any involvement.

She'd be an idiot to expect help from any of them. Their jobs were to gather enough evidence to send her to prison. She refused to allow that to happen. She was her father's daughter, after all. Her daddy had raised her to be tough, and she wasn't going to disappoint him.

But thinking of her father made her recall Harley. The parrot was quiet, which was never a good sign. He hated his carrier, too, so the silence had her sweeping the room in search of him.

Mercer grabbed her arm and brought her around to face him again. Surprise registered on his face. “What's wrong?”

His question brought the other team members' gazes to her, but Zoe wasn't interested in their concern.

“Where's Harley?” She pointed at Mercer. “If you hurt my dad's parrot, he'll make you wish you were dead. Harley is never quiet in his carrier.” She rolled her shoulder and dropped her arm on the other side of his hand to break his grip. Yeah, she was her father's girl, all right, and knew a thing or two about handling herself. Fury appeared on Mercer's face the moment he recognized what she was doing. The knowledge came too late to keep her from gaining her freedom.

“You know, never mind worrying about my father … Harley is my responsibility while he's gone. I'll kick your lying ass myself if there is even one feather out of place on that bird.”

She turned and began to cross the room, looking for the carrier.

“I put the bird in there … he's fine. How much trouble can a parrot be anyway?” Greer pointed her through the doorway to another room, an amused look on his face. Zoe ground her teeth but froze in the doorway, her temper evaporating the second she got a look at Harley.

“More trouble than you think,” she muttered.

Her father's prized parrot was busy destroying Mercer's leather jacket. Harley purred as he chewed on a sleeve, which already sported too many punctures and tears to count. She looked back at Greer.

“You forgot to check the door latch. Macaw parrots are very intelligent. One that's Harley's age will check to make sure the door is locked.”

His eyes narrowed but Mercer had followed her and let out a growl. The sound brought the rest of the team forward to investigate. Zoe hurried ahead of them, scooping Harley up. Mercer yanked his jacket out of the parrot's grasp, earning a squawk of outrage. The tattered sleeve made her laugh. Harley had made good use of his free time.

“Gee, for a team of guys who seem to think themselves so on top of details, I've got to say. I'm less than impressed.”

She ran a soothing hand down Harley's back. Her father's pet wasn't appeased. He let out another screech and clicked his beak at the jacket.

Mercer aimed a deadly look at the bird. “This is a custom-made jacket. It's going to be a bitch to replace.”

Yeah, he wasn't a normal size. Not with those shoulders …

Not anywhere else, either …

Zoe shook her head but heat still touched her cheeks.

“I like the bird,” Saxon said.

Mercer turned and growled at Saxon. The team leader was sporting a genuine grin for once, but his eyes glittered with warning.

“I bet I'd like him even better with barbecue sauce.”

 

CHAPTER THREE

“The rush job will cost you.”

Zoe made a sound that wasn't really a word but the window repair guy grinned, smelling a larger commission. He sniffed a few times and made a show of inspecting the window framing. “Might be bent…”

“Can you get the job done or not?”

Mercer appeared on the other side of the kitchen, keeping to the shadows but sending the repairman a look that meant business. The workman instantly abandoned his lazy mode of operation. “Sure can, got the glass on my truck.”

“I need it in my kitchen. Name your price or we'll call the next service in the directory.”

The repairman turned and scribbled across a work order. Zoe reached for it but he took it to Mercer, leaving her nursing her pride. The second Mercer signed it, the guy was out the door.

“I didn't need your help to get the house fixed.”

Mercer still had his sunglasses on, preventing her from seeing what emotion was in his eyes.

“You needed my help, and you need more of it, Zoe.” There was a hard edge on his tone.

“Not a chance. I'll be happy to show you and your buddies the error of your ways without a shred of assistance from you.”

One dark eyebrow arched above the gold rim of the shades. He moved toward her, sending prickles of sensation across her skin. It was the way he moved; she was intently aware of it. She noticed things about his body that normally didn't register.

“I get that, Zoe.” He didn't stop at a normal distance but pressed her up against the hallway wall. The night breeze was coming through the window that lacked glass to keep it out, but it didn't cool off her cheeks. “What are you planning to do the next time bullets start flying?”

She flattened her hands against his chest and pushed but gained only a tiny grin for her effort. “I'll improvise.”

“You'll end up bleeding out on your own floor,” he told her gravely. “You need me.”

“Shut up.” She tried to punctuate her comment with a stiff knee to his groin but he blocked it expertly. He hooked her ankle with his foot and pulled her right leg across the floor so he could press his thigh between hers.

“You only get one crotch shot, baby.”

She struggled, failing to master the urge despite knowing damn well he had her pinned. His hold wasn't painful but she could feel the iron strength.

“Don't count on that.”

His eyes narrowed. She reached up and yanked the shades off his face. It was the only way she could strike out against him, but it backfired because she got a glimpse of his eyes. Hunger was brightening them, battling against the suspicion. She felt an answering tug at her own insides.

How can I? The guy should nauseate me. I've been an assignment. Where the hell is my pride? The attraction should be fizzling out as my temper strangles it.

“You haven't proven you have the right to be mad, Zoe. I'm here to help you do that.”

She shoved at his chest again. “Just because they drill confidence into you during special ops training doesn't mean you've become infallible. You're wrong about my family.”

“Maybe.” His voice deepened into the tone she recalled too well from more intimate moments. “But that would only double my confidence in the fact that you need me watching your back. Whoever is guilty is nearby and has every reason to take you out to cover his tracks. I didn't show up without a reason, Zoe—an evidence trail led me to your doorstep. Like it or not, you need to trust me.”

“Not a chance in hell of that happening.”

Fury flickered in his eyes. “Your father should have taught you that adjusting to the situation is key to survival. Liking me isn't necessary.”

The workmen came back through the front door. Mercer stepped back, freeing her, but not before she noticed something in his expression that hinted at misgiving.

Good! I hope guilt is chewing a hole in your gut.

She turned her back on him, knowing without a doubt she couldn't handle seeing any hint of true concern for her in his eyes. She'd be sunk if she did. Her heart would end up on her sleeve in a matter of hours.

Someone else knocked on the open front door. “Deli delivery.”

Zoe started through the doorway but a hard grip on her arm jerked her back a pace.

“We need to discuss the rules, Zoe, because you're going to get yourself killed if you try taking point without a weapon. Don't trust anyone. We're here as bait, baby. Try not to get eaten.”

He whispered against her ear, holding her against him. It earned them a smug look from the two workmen struggling to replace the kitchen window. She dug her elbow into his ribs but he captured her wrist with the hand that was draped around her back. He held her for only a moment, but it felt like the longest few seconds of her life. She was keenly aware of him, the way he smelled, the way his grip felt against her skin. There was a flicker of arousal in his eyes that unleashed a curl of lust in her clit.

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