Dangerous to Know (37 page)

“Yeah, well, I schooled him, didn't I?” she shot back.

“You did. Your dad and brother aren't the only ones with grit.”

Mercer was smiling at her now, the expression one of approval. It warmed her because she knew without a doubt he wasn't a man to hand out praise to the undeserving. Or unworthy. The feeling spreading through her was great because it was something she'd earned.

“So, when are you going to stop trying to crawl back into the shell of your old life?”

The question brought her up short. “I'm not sure what you're getting at.”

He unfolded his arms and closed the distance between them, slowly stalking her. Her insides twisted, but she stood her ground and it felt damn good.

“I was sitting out in the kitchen, giving you space … like a nice guy.”

She wrinkled her nose at the phrase. Mercer chuckled. “Yeah, that's when Vitus hit me upside the head with a richly deserved ass kick.” The amusement faded from his face. His eyes filled with yearning. It reached out across the space between them, feeling like a live current connected to the swirling need driving her insane. Everything was so incredibly impossible and yet pathetically simple.

“You don't want a nice guy, baby.”

I don't.

The admission was just there, bubbling up from inside her. She looked away because she was pretty certain he'd read it right off her face.

“And I love the way you come out of your shell for me,” he continued, his voice deepening, becoming husky.

Sexy beyond belief.

He was reaching for her, his fingertips stroking across her jaw and lifting her face so their gazes could fuse again.

The connection was restored. Full-strength current surged between them, making her feel like she was coming fully alive. It was fucking intense and she gritted her teeth to avoid purring.

“Where's my bitch?” he demanded.

She shook off his touch, rising to the challenge in his voice. “Be careful what you wish for, Mercer.”

He opened his arms wide. “Hit me with your best shot, baby. I'll let you know if I'm impressed.”

“Oh, you will be,” she warned, sticking her finger out and poking him in the chest. “I can handle you, Mr. Special Agent Man. Untamed or not. Don't think you're going to steamroll over me. I am not a good little girl.”

“You're sitting in your room like one.”

Her eyes narrowed. He was smirking at her. Expectation surged through her veins as she recognized the look in his eyes. He was lowering his attention to her lips, making ready to kiss her. She wanted him to. Craved the connection and the mind-numbing reaction she knew would follow.

But that was letting him take control.

She stepped back. He raised an eyebrow in question.

“You're not going to kiss me senseless.”

He bared his teeth at her. “Yes I am.”

She stepped back and shook her head. His eyes brightened, practically glowing with anticipation. Her belly twisted in response, a surge of confidence flooding her as she drank in the way she made him look so hungry.

Her.

She did that.

To him.

That's right …

It was a heady feeling, an aphrodisiac.

“I want you naked,” she declared. “Stripped down to skin.”

“Is that a fact?” he asked smoothly. “What makes you think I'm going to jump?”

It was her turn to flash him a grin. “You wanted a bitch. Well, that means I'm going to be mouthy. Very mouthy.”

He offered her a sound that was half grunt, half chuckle. It was very male and loaded with promise. Her clit started throbbing in response, the heat surging up from her core as he backed up and ripped his shirt off.

“Like this, baby?”

She nodded, making a little sound of enjoyment under her breath. “But it could be so much better.”

“Let me see if I can improve my performance…” He kicked his shoes free and popped the waistband button on his jeans.

Her mouth went dry, her attention on his fingers as he worked the buttons on his fly. Time slowed down, her heart accelerating. He finished and his cock sprang into sight, already swollen. She reached for it, curling her fingers around the stiff staff and enjoying the slide of his soft skin against her palm.

But he pulled back, leaving her with only the sight of him again.

“Not enough, is it, Zoe?” he asked as he shucked his jeans completely. “Just watching isn't enough.”

“No. It's not.” She didn't really think about her response. It was pure reaction.

As always.

She reached down to grasp the bottom of her tunic top and pull it up her body. When she cleared her head, she caught sight of Mercer watching her. Every inch of him was hard. Every detail still striking her as untamed.

But he was looking at her.

She let her thoughts scatter, let all the reasons just dissipate into a vapor as passion filled her. He was her haven. His embrace the place she needed to be to prove herself and take solace. It was explosive and the embers kept her warm when they were both spent.

Fuck tomorrow.

She was living in the moment.

*   *   *

Kagan felt his company arrive. The veteran agent didn't look up because he didn't need to. Servat settled down near him, scanning the area in front of them.

“You're looking for me,” Servat said.

Kagan nodded. “And you know why.”

Servat was silent for a long moment. A gust of wind blew a scattering of dried leaves past his feet.

“We all have orders,” Servat said.

“Who told you about Tyler?”

Kagan's poise slipped just a bit, exposing his temper.

“You weren't really going to leave him chained to that table,” Servat said, defending himself.

Kagan turned to look at him. “Who?”

Servat held his tongue for a long moment. “General Presson.”

Kagan pressed his lips into a hard line.

“It's a complication,” Servat continued. “Tyler is being moved out of your sphere of activity. Your orders still stand.”

Kagan got up and strolled away. A car slid up to the curb and he opened the door and got in. The people moving down the sidewalk never took much notice of him.

Kagan had devoted his life to preserving their way of living.

And he had a feeling that fight was about to get very complicated.

*   *   *

“Daddy's home!”

Zoe lifted her head, hitting Mercer in the chin. He grunted, his arms tightening out of reflex around her. She pushed against him as she heard her father's footfalls coming down the hallway.

She was suddenly feeling seventeen.

“My dad…”

“Is home,” her father announced in a booming voice.

Colonel Bryan Magnus stood in the doorway, still in his fatigues. Mercer was wide awake now but he held her still, only moving to tug the comforter up to cover her shoulder. Her father had planted himself in the doorway, slowly tugging his glasses off as he caught Mercer with a razor-sharp look.

“Morning, sir.”

Her father pegged Mercer with a hard look. “Get some shorts on, son. You're burning daylight and I need some coffee.”

Her dad winked at her before turning neatly on his heel and letting the bedroom door close.

Zoe groaned.

Mercer chuckled. He was already out of bed and stepping into his jeans. She lifted her face from the bed and shot him a look.

“My dad is going—”

“To bust my balls,” Mercer finished for her.

“Ah, pretty much,” she agreed.

He shrugged into a T-shirt and winked at her. “I'm looking forward to it.”

Zoe pushed herself up and onto her knees. “You are?”

He leaned over and pressed a hard kiss against her lips. “Sure am.” His eyes flashed a warning at her. “Because as soon as I get him on my side, I'm going to drag you down to the courthouse.”

“I didn't say I was going to marry you.”

Mercer stopped with his hand on the doorknob. He turned and gave her a wink. “Why do you think I need your dad on my side? He's got to hold the shotgun. While I hold on to you.”

“Mercer…”

She ended up staring at the closed bedroom door and laughing.

At herself.

*   *   *

“Who's my fluffy baby…”

Saxon and Mercer turned around slowly. Mercer pulled his shades off his face as he stared at her father in dumbfounded shock.

Zoe smothered her amusement behind her hand.

“Sweet little birdie…”

Her father was cradling Harley like an infant. The scarlet-winged macaw was lying contently on his back in her father's arms with most of his feathers fluffed up.

“That's wrong,” Saxon said.

“What's wrong about it?” her father demanded as he rocked Harley gently. The parrot had his beak open, looking for all the world like he was the happiest creature alive. “Don't tell me my little girl didn't explain that Harley is her baby brother?”

Mercer cut her a look. “The hatch-day cake?”

“Yup,” Zoe answered. “From scratch. Every year.”

Her father rolled Harley over so that the parrot was perched on his hand. The bird started nuzzling him under his chin as he rubbed him. “No store-bought cakes for family members in this house.”

Saxon reached out and patted Mercer on the shoulder. “She's all yours. This family is completely crazy. And those birds live forever. You're going to be dealing with it when you're sixty.”

“Maybe I haven't agreed to be his,” Zoe said.

“Harley, Daddy needs to put you down so he can get his shotgun.”

“That's not funny, Dad.”

Mercer winked at her. “Yes it is. Real funny, because I get to watch you be pushed around for a change.”

Mercer dropped his arms around her from behind, kissing her temple before nuzzling her neck.

“You know you're going to marry me.”

“Do I?” she asked as she melted against him. “Why?”

“Because I love you.”

She was pretty sure she was wearing a smile. It still felt strange, the lack of tension, the feeling of him against her when none of the odds had favored them.

Mercer leaned down and whispered in her ear. “I love you, Zoe Magnus. So marry me and I'll help you bake that cake for Harley.”

“You've got a deal.”

But she was the one who had gotten the real deal.

The golden-ticket type.

*   *   *

“They'll come for you next,” Saxon said.

Kagan nodded. He was looking at his computer screen, a
NO MATCH FOUND
message flashing on it.

No match found for one Tyler Martin.

No service record. No shield number. No arrest record.

Nothing.

“This runs deep,” Kagan said at last. “Better make sure your ass is covered. Double time.”

He doubted there was any way to avoid the storm that was coming. Someone had come for Tyler all right. A someone with mighty deep connections. In its way, it was interesting to note. A strangely fascinating type of puzzle that he enjoyed because he couldn't figure it out.

But that was also his Achilles' heel.

A man who knew too much was a liability.

No one liked having those around.

In this case, whoever was on the other end of getting Tyler released was going to try to clean the slate. He knew it because that would be his own next move.

So he'd just have to make sure he was a harder target to hit.

 

Read on for an excerpt from
Dawn Ryder
's upcoming novel

DARE YOU TO RUN

Coming soon from St. Martin's Paperbacks

 

 

He was home.

Damascus felt him. Call that what you may, but she was sure she felt his presence registering on her skin. The air in the house fairly crackled as she felt him drawing closer. She sat still, keeping her chin up and her hands on her knees. Her breath was caught in her throat as she caught the first sight of him, just a quarter of his face as he looked around the doorframe and down the barrel of his handgun. He had his finger on the trigger, his left hand cupping the butt of it. His bare forearms allowed her to see the definition that proved he was just as hard and deadly as she recalled.

She bit her lower lip to keep from talking, her composure flying to pieces like it was being hit by a tornado. All the resolve and self-discipline she'd spent the last three years cultivating were being ripped away in chunks and strips by this sheer force of nature. He finished checking the house before coming back to stare at her. She felt his glare, felt like it was burning away the layers of the façade she'd built after realizing she had to leave him.

“You wanted my attention?” he asked at last, his voice a low rumble that suited the nearly dark room. The only light was coming from a red light. It had turned on the moment she entered the room, allowing her to see without killing her night vision.

“Actually, that's my line,” she said as she stood. He'd stopped across the room from her, the gun tucked against his center, behind his belt.

His brows lowered. “I don't follow.”

“Well, your brother is trailing me,” she countered. “Don't bother to deny it. You bugged my dragonfly, didn't you?”

Surprise widened his eyes. It was a momentary loss of control, one he masked quickly but not before she saw it.

“I knew it,” she said. “That was a low thing to do. The dragonfly belonged to my grandmother. It's important to me.”

Which was why he'd used it, she realized that as the words were sailing out of her mouth like some sort of plea for an apology. What the hell was wrong with her? Vitus sure wouldn't be sparing much empathy for her bruised feelings.

“I did place a bug in the dragonfly.” He lifted a finger and pointed at her. “As a safeguard, when you were my responsibility. I haven't used it since.”