Dangerous to Know (16 page)

“I should.”

Two little words had never impacted her so harshly before.

Fool.

“Well, fine by me,” she snapped.

She wanted to hurt him or at least insult him. But there was a flicker of heat in his eyes that stopped her from continuing. She recognized that flame. It wasn't something she might explain her way around, either. It touched her, deep down inside where instinct ruled. Arousal flared up in all the spots he'd made tingle so intensely.

She was a damn fool, all right.

“That part of the operation is over.” There was a hard certainty in his voice.

“Oh, great. Thanks for sharing that bit with me.”

He leaned over and hooked her around the waist with one solid arm. With a quick motion he had her secured against his body, not even a millimeter between them to help her maintain any level of composure. Her senses went into overdrive, soaking up every delightful sensation.

“You're welcome, Zoe.” He cupped her nape, not even granting her the freedom to turn away. She wanted to. The need to hide was strong.

But there was something else, too, enjoyment of his strength and the demand his imprisoning embrace conveyed. His confidence offered shelter from the fear of the unknown.

“And since we're past the business stage of this relationship, I'd like to enter into the next stage with very clear intentions.”

“I don't—”

His mouth cut her off, sealing her protest beneath a kiss that was as demanding as his embrace promised. She withered, unable to remain still. Pleasure ripped into her, shredding every reason she had to ignore how much she enjoyed his lips sliding across hers.

It was too pleasurable for rational thought …

She made a soft sound of protest, one she didn't fully understand, but it gained her no mercy. Instead his lips pressed hers to open, his tongue teasing her lower lip and sending enough delight across her nerve endings to draw a gasp from her.

Mercer took instant advantage, thrusting his tongue deep. She shivered, her passage heating and begging for a hard thrust, too. It was so deeply sexual, so intense, she gripped his jacket lapels, wanting him closer. There was too much sensation filling her to remain still and her hunger became consuming. She kissed him back, meeting his demand with high expectation. For a moment the kiss flared hot enough to be called a firestorm, their mouths moving in perfect rhythm.

“I'm here to stay, baby. Get used to me.”

Mercer captured a wrist and pulled her arm straight down. She heard a tiny click and felt the cold kiss of metal against her skin.

“Are you serious?”

Her thoughts were still muddled with arousal. She didn't want to think about anything beyond the need twisting inside her. But the guy had handcuffed her.

Mercer surveyed her with a determined glint in his eyes. “I'm making sure you don't do something stupid while I'm talking to Vitus.”

She looked down and stared at the set of handcuffs binding her to the iron headboard. The elegant swirls of leaves suddenly lost their serenity as she recognized just how solid it was.

“I'll be back,” he muttered on the way to the door.

“Stay gone, I don't need you back to mess with me. Just leave the key,” she insisted.

He turned around in a motion that instantly reminded her of how deadly he might be. For some reason she kept forgetting.

Like while he was kissing her …

“Where are you going to go, Zoe?” He came back toward her, stopping close enough for her to touch him. She wasn't sure if his aim was to intimidate her or challenge her. In any case, she wasn't taking it. She shot him a hard look, making it clear she wasn't backing down. Mercer didn't care for it. He braced his hands on the footrail of the bed.

“Who do you trust now, if not me? I don't need you sliding out the window because you get some notion into your head that the police are somehow your friends. Saxon's superior signed the order for us to move in on you. Remember that before you go thinking any branch of law enforcement is going to be interested in helping you clear your name.”

“That sounds like a bunch of bullshit designed to keep me clinging to you like a lost kitten.” She wasn't helping herself get free by asking, but there was something about his boldness that demanded she stand up to him with the same brass-balls attitude. “Regular cops aren't as insane as you and Saxon. They actually recognize a civilian when they see one. One call to my dad and I will be fine.”

His eyes flashed with warning.

“The information is moving through your computers. If the local cops dig up that trail, they might decide to charge you.”

“That's bullshit!”

“Is it?” His voice turned deadly calm. “If the guilty party disappears into the night, leaving your computer with evidence on it, what's to stop them from deciding you're guilty? We've got nothing on Tim and everything on you. If you and I were dead on that hallway floor, the report would have my name listed as your partner. Why do you think the bullets started flying the moment we were together?”

He might be right.

She hated him for it but … he might be right.

“What have you got then, Zoe?” he said, digging into her while she was undecided.

Zoe shut her mouth, desperately trying to think of a logical argument. She was trapped, a noose tightening around her neck. He had her. That was the long and short of it.

Mercer nodded. “You're pissed but you're not stupid. That's something I like about you, Zoe. Feeling emotion for you stirring inside me isn't something I like. You were my target and I won't apologize for how we met. It was my duty.”

“So take these things off me and let me take care of myself. Go back to your team and wait for the next set of orders that include whoring yourself out for the good of the team.”

He surprised her by grinning. “You care about me, too.”

“Not that … deeply.” It was the best denial she could manage without flat-out lying. It did bug her that he'd wormed his way into her bed on assignment, and the idea of him going to another target turned her stomach. “Should I trust you? I mean, really?” She detested how wounded she sounded. Where was her temper when she needed it?

He shrugged, leaning against the bedroom door instead of opening it. “Why don't you think about that while I'm gone. But I'll tell you this, Zoe: Your chances of beating this thing without me are pretty low.”

“Words like that lose their charm when coming on the heels of you handcuffing me.”

He grinned again, too damn smug for her taste. “Like I said, Zoe, your chances are better with me because I know how to play dirty, and the man responsible for selling intel is definitely playing for keeps. Go against him without me and you'll earn that toe tag he wants to tie on you. He's left enough of a trail on your email accounts to get the powers that be to believe you're the guilty party—and if you're dead, there won't be any argument. That's his plan. Don't doubt it.”

His lips pressed into a hard line, all traces of amusement fading from his eyes. “I enjoyed being in your bed, Zoe, and it goes deeper than the mission plan.”

He turned and pulled the door open while she was stunned into silence. She ended up staring at the closed door, still trying to think of a good retort. Sitting on the bed was the best she could do. The pain pills drew a suspicious look from her while she battled to decide what she wanted to believe.

Was Mercer someone she should trust? Or should she suspect Saxon of planning the sniper attack? One thing she'd noticed was that Saxon and his team were all deadly serious when it came to carrying out their mission.

Shooting at them wouldn't be too far a stretch. Not if it drove her back into Mercer's arms. Cultivated trust between them.

But that left her handcuffed and at the mercy of a man she didn't know.

Shit.

*   *   *

“Where is the Magnus girl?” Tyler asked the second Saxon picked up the phone.

Saxon was used to his superior's direct attitude when it came to calls. No greeting, just cut to the point. “Running from the bad guys.”

“I need her brought in.” Tyler laid down his order. “Immediately. I want that hard drive decoded. Use any means necessary to get her cooperation.”

The line went dead.

It was a coldhearted order. One Saxon wasn't unfamiliar with receiving. The game they were playing paid out in blood. So a lot of the time the only way to win was by spilling blood on the other side. Nothing was amiss or abnormal, and yet he leaned back in his chair trying to decide what was bugging him.

Tyler Martin had been his superior for years. Questioning the man went against the grain. But it was still there, chewing on his insides, combining with the scar that was left from the way Tyler had handled his brother Vitus.

That was a wound that still leaked resentment, as well as causing misgivings about Tyler's command style. Maybe that was all it was. A specter rising up from a situation Saxon felt was handled unfairly. If so, he'd have to get over it.

Life wasn't fair.

 

CHAPTER FOUR

“Do you know what you're doing?”

Vitus was leaning against the kitchen counter, his fingers wrapped around a mug of coffee. He still hadn't buttoned up his shirt, and his hair was only tucked partially behind his ears. He looked lazy, but anyone who knew the man understood the deadly power hidden beneath the blasé exterior. His hair was growing out, sort of a calendar, marking the amount of time he'd been off special assignment.

Mercer didn't care for how much he noticed that detail or how great an impact it made. Vitus had been one of the best and he'd been taken down for nothing more than one man's pride. Or maybe one woman's. It was still unclear whether it had been Congressman Jeb Ryland or his daughter Damascus who had wanted vengeance when their relationship soured. Frankly, Mercer didn't give a shit. Stripping a man like Vitus of his shield over a roll in the hay was low. Plenty of special assignments included them. Living on the edge drove people together in a quest to keep in touch with life.

A fact that also just might be influencing his own thinking, but he honestly didn't give a crap. He was sticking close to Zoe and that was the end of the discussion.

Mercer walked over to the coffeemaker and poured himself a measure before turning to face his buddy. “Tell me again, Vitus, why is it you haven't signed back on with Saxon?”

His words were slow and measured but they hit their mark perfectly.

“Because I don't like anyone telling me to ignore my gut instinct, especially when I'm right. It paid off. My target would have been dead without my action.” Vitus glared at him over the rim of his coffee mug before answering.

Mercer tilted his head. “Exactly. I'm feeling the same way right now. My gut says she's a mule; the evidence, on the other hand, is cloudy.”

“Which brought you to my door.”

Mercer stared his buddy straight in the eye. “If you want me gone, say so.”

“Or I could call my baby brother and turn you in before you screw up your performance record. I listened to my gut and lost my shield over it. Maybe I should prove I've learned my lesson.”

Mercer growled. “Don't disappoint me, Vitus. You're an asshole most of the time but I can't rightfully accuse you of being a dick. Which is why I call you a friend. I'd hate to be proven wrong on that count; friends are hard to come by. Besides, I'll take losing my shield over her blood on my hands.”

Vitus offered him a soft grunt. Mercer watched the man take a few more sips of coffee while he contemplated the situation. It was time for Mercer to think things through himself.

His neck was on the line, or it would be if he didn't call in soon.

“You're welcome to stay but my baby brother might remember you call me a friend.”

“I know.”

Vitus raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like you're counting on that.”

Mercer nodded. “Best place for me to call in from is your house. It will make falling off the grid a lot easier. Besides, when it comes to walking away clean, you're the master.”

“Yeah, well, the skill comes in handy from time to time.” There was still a trace of bitterness in Vitus's tone. A ghost left behind that was slowly eating away at one of the best agents Mercer knew. Jeb Ryland and his daughter could choke on their petty revenge. Vitus was a man without a cause now, and Damascus Ryland would be dead if it hadn't been for him.

“If you decide to drop off the grid, make sure you have a good reason, buddy.” Vitus gave him a hard look. “Make sure she's worth it. From where I'm standing, you don't look completely sure about what you believe.”

He rocked back on his heels for a moment. “You're right; I'm still on the fence,” Mercer admitted. “But my gut tells me she's innocent. I'm sure about one thing—I'm not willing to live with her blood on the pavement when I know I could do something to prevent it. This case stinks of bad brass.”

Vitus raised an eyebrow and took another sip from his coffee as he contemplated Mercer's words.

Then he tossed a cordless phone to him. “As I said, be very sure, buddy, because that feeling might be the only thing you're left with once it all washes out. That package you rolled in with didn't look like she was sure about you. That's something I'd advise you to think about. It's hell losing your position and then having the girl leave you, too.”

Vitus left the kitchen, his feet making only a faint sound before Mercer couldn't hear him at all.

Zoe didn't trust him.

It was the fact that it bothered him that kept him sipping coffee instead of dialing Saxon.

He wouldn't care about anyone who was a traitor.

That thought was solid and firmly rooted in his gut. Going after Zoe hadn't bothered him, but too many facts weren't adding up. He set the mug down and picked up the phone.