Relentless (5 page)

“Understood.”

Dec came over to take a look at the laptop. “So? What's cooking in Tehrazzi's sick little world now?”

“Depends who you ask,” Luke said, tapping a few keys to bring up a new screen. “This is a blog the company's been following. Word is they think a sleeper cell here in Vancouver was activated by a larger cell in Montreal on direct word from Tehrazzi. They're still looking into possible connections.”

Rhys glanced over at him, his mind stuck on part of the blog entry he'd just read.
The American female doctor who survived her captivity in Afghanistan will soon taste the fires of Allah's retribution
. Scary shit. “Sam involved with any of the analysis?”

“Not since coming stateside. She's already torn up because of leaving the laptop behind for Tehrazzi's people, and with Neveah and the rest of us involved... She's too close to everything. The Agency's denied her security clearance.”

Rhys exchanged a knowing glance with him. Like that was going to stop Sam, one of the most brilliant computer geeks in the world? Being denied access by the CIA would only slow her down a bit.

Rhys bet her staying in Boston with his parents had as much to do with taking her mind off the situation as it did with planning the wedding. Ben wouldn't want her involved any more than she was already. “What kind of threat are we talking about here?”

Luke leaned his shoulder against the wall. “Could be anything. Chemical, biological maybe.”

Rhys's stomach tightened. “For real?” Nasty, nasty shit.

“Anthrax, botulism, and nitrogen fertilizer are the most feasible possibilities, but it could be anything. Weapons are tougher to come by up here because the laws are stricter, but it doesn't mean they're not out there.”

Yeah, especially if someone had a law enforcement, military or gang-related background. “Police and CSIS have any leads yet?”

“We're following up on some right now,” Nate said from near the French doors. “The CIA, FBI and Homeland Security folks have all been alerted and are working with CSIS. We get whatever filters down from them.”

Bureaucracy was a beautiful thing. Too bad that tangle of red tape always cost lives.

Luke straightened and looked at Dec, then Rhys. “Nate and I've already gone over the basics of what we need for security at each venue. My paramount concern is that we not take any possibility of a threat lightly. If something doesn't feel right, check it out, and I'll deal with any toes we step on later. Whatever we find, it goes no further than our team.” His dark eyes held a fierce gleam, and Rhys felt the strength of his resolve. “No one finds out about us, and no one at any of the venues gets any clue that we're there in a security capacity until after the fact. Understood?”

“Roger that,” Dec replied as Rhys nodded.

Luke's shoulders seemed to lower a few inches. “Okay then. Let's get to work.”

Vancouver International Airport

Neveah followed the stream of passengers up the Jetway to the gate with a buzz of excitement in her stomach. The lounge was full of people waiting to board the plane she'd just come off, so she found an out-of-the-way spot to set down her carry-on luggage and glance around for the man she was supposed to meet.

Standing in the middle of the busy terminal made her nervous. Her eyes automatically scanned the crowd for possible threats. It was something she couldn't control, and by now did it without thinking. After what she'd gone through, it probably would never go away.

At first she couldn't spot anyone that might be looking for her, but then an attractive middle-aged man started toward her and gave a friendly wave. He didn't appear threatening in any way, so she smiled back politely and picked up her bag.

“Doctor Adams?” he asked when he got within earshot.

“Yes. You must be Nate.” She offered her hand and shook his firmly, maintaining eye contact. A firm handshake was important to her because it conveyed confidence. No matter how nervous she was, she always made sure she projected an image of strength. It had served her well during her years as a resident surgeon. “Thank you for coming to meet me, though it was unnecessary.”

“Not at all,” he said easily, taking the bag from her over her protest, “and why don't we leave the issue of necessity up to the powers that be.”

He meant Luke, of course. He'd sent her an e-mail saying Nate would meet her. She detested being treated like a helpless female, but since Nate was the security expert, she bit her tongue and followed him through the terminal and down an escalator to the luggage carousels. He strode straight over to number four and set her bag down. She couldn't hold back any longer. “So. Any new developments you can share with me?”

Nate's deep brown eyes twinkled. “Luke said you were a tough cookie.”

Good, because she was. “I'd like to know what's happening.” She waited for him to answer.

“I'm just here as a favor to an old friend, and as a precaution. I understand you went through a lot in Afghanistan, and my job is to make sure you feel safe while you're here.”

She had to smile at his charm. “I appreciate the gesture.” Not that she needed it. Unless a credible threat against her existed that she didn't know about, she was quite capable of taking care of herself. Above all, she was determined to live as normal a life as possible. “I have a... friend that worked with Luke, and he's supposed to be coming into town. His name's Rhys Sinclair— do you know if he's in yet?”

“Why don't you ask him yourself,” came a baritone rumble behind her.

Nev whipped around and found Rhys smiling at her. A beautiful six-and-a-half-foot wall of muscle encased in snug jeans and a black leather jacket. “H-hi.”

Her voice sounded all breathy and feminine, even to her own ears. The blood rushed to her face while she struggled to contain her reaction to seeing him. Every cell in her body demanded she rush over and wrap her arms around him, but that would make her look like a deranged nutcase, so she stayed put and tried not to gawk. God, she was near tears just from the sight of him.

“Well,” Nate said dryly, “I'll leave you in Mr. Sinclair's capable hands.” He handed her a card, which she took distractedly. “That's my cell number. If you need anything, call me, but I'll be in touch.”

“Thanks.” She barely noticed him leave, her eyes all for Rhys.

His rare smile warmed his hard navy gaze and softened the harsh landscape of his face. “Hi.”

Her throat was too tight to speak, so she smiled back. Inside her suddenly too-small ribcage, her heart pounded like a drum. He towered over her. The sheer size and breadth of him took her breath away as she scanned starved eyes over him.

He'd always been jacked, but now he was
huge
. Not so big that he was muscle-bound, but built like a heavyweight fighter in prime condition.

The skull-trim looked good on him. His healed surgical scars would be barely noticeable once his thick black hair grew in again. Remembering what should have been a mortal wound as she and Ben fought to staunch the flow of blood streaming from his skull, her eyes followed every line of those marks. Then lower, over the dark pink burn scars that covered the back of his neck. She knew they extended over his right shoulder and halfway down his thoracic spine. After his brain surgery, she'd dressed the burns herself.

The sting of tears had her blinking hard, and a wave of embarrassment washed over her. Damn, the first time she'd seen him since he'd come out of the coma, and she was about to cry like a loser.

“Do I look that bad?” he asked, and before she could get herself together, gathered her close for a hug.

“No, you don't look bad.” He looked wonderful. Hard to believe the last time she'd seen him his right parietal bone had been hinged open with his brain swollen out of his skull like a football beneath the loose surgical dressings. They'd had to turn him every two hours to make sure he didn't develop pressure sores, all the while keeping him off his back so the burns could heal. She'd imagined holding him like this a thousand times.

Oh, he felt incredible. Hard muscle and enveloping heat stole into her bones, making her legs go weak. The subtle, dark spice of his cologne wrapped around her, warm sandalwood and sharp evergreen. Electric currents zinged along her skin from each point of contact they made. Fighting her devastating response to him, she bit back a moan and locked her knees.

Her throat spasmed with the need to cry as she wound her arms tighter around his neck. More than anything in the world she wanted to just hang on, simply close her eyes and savor the feel of him, warm and strong and healthy against her. But after a moment he pulled back to look down at her.

“It's good to see you,” he said, gaze roving over her face. He couldn't have missed the sheen of tears despite her efforts to stem them, but he didn't embarrass her by saying anything.

“You too.” Her voice sounded strangled. She'd thought she'd been prepared to see him face to face but obviously she wasn't, and being caught off guard like this had her on the verge of falling apart. It alarmed her that he affected her this powerfully with his mere presence.

“You all right?”

“Yes.” God, she must seem like such a head case. “I'm just surprised to see you, that's all. I didn't think I would until Saturday.” That would have given her more than enough time to get herself together.

“I was hoping it would be a good surprise.”

“It is.” The best one she'd had in years.

A half-smile curved his lips. “Let's go get your luggage, then I'll take you to your hotel.”

“You don't have to. I'm used to traveling by myself.”

He met her eyes. “I want to. And you're not on your own anymore.”

The words sent a flare of warmth though her veins, then he slid a protective arm around her waist and guided her through the throng of passengers milling around.

Nev followed him without argument, something else that shocked her. If anyone else had tried to be proprietary and invade her personal space like this, she'd push away and make it clear she hated being manhandled. But somehow with Rhys it made her feel safe and protected. Through her emerald cashmere sweater, the heat of his big hand singed the curve of her waist. His forearm was hard as an iron bar across her lower back. Everything female in her gave a delirious sigh.

No matter how she tried to steel herself against it, his touch radiated all over her body. It stunned her. Never in her life had she reacted so strongly to anyone, let alone with such intense physical awareness.

If she was going to make it through the weekend with her heart intact, she'd better damn well find a way to get a grip on her delinquent endocrine system. Her ovaries could stop flooding her body with primitive female hormones anytime, thanks very much.

Once Rhys pulled her suitcase off the carousel, he hefted it like it weighed no more than a sack of flour, though she could barely tow it behind her on its wheels. With that steadying hand on her back, he ushered her outside into the crisp autumn air. She took a deep breath, catching the faint scent of exhaust fumes. She'd always wanted to visit Vancouver. Too bad she wouldn't be seeing much of it, with the conference and all.

Rhys took her to a shiny black Escalade parked at the curb and opened her door before helping her in, then put her luggage in the trunk. He came around to the driver's side and paused a moment or two, looking for something, but then popped the door and climbed behind the wheel. He did a quick survey of the dashboard, and a sinking feeling in her gut told her he was looking for something far more serious than an indicator light.

He must not have found anything that worried him, because he started the ignition and the big SUV's engine roared to life. He surprised her by glancing over with a smile.

“Check-in's not until four,” he said, putting the truck into drive and pulling away from the curb. “Got any plans or commitments for this afternoon?”

“No, I'm free.” The only thing she'd planned was falling into her bed and staring out the window until she got a call saying her friend Mike had arrived from LA. “But I thought check-in was at three?”

“At the Pan Pacific, yeah. But you're not staying there.”

“What?”

“You're booked at the Fairmont Waterfront, across the street.”

She gaped at him. Had he actually had the audacity to change her reservation without her consent or knowledge? Apparently he had. “Why did you do that?”

“Not me. Luke.”

Like that was supposed to make it okay? “Fine, why did
Luke
put me in another hotel?”

“He's just looking after you.”

Her heart tripped. “You said there was nothing for me to worry about.”

“Right.”

He seemed completely at ease. Was he telling her the truth? She leaned against the back rest and fought back the worry burning its way through her annoyance. “Am I still Neveah Adams?”

The side of his mouth quirked upward. “Not at the Waterfront.”

Why was she not surprised? She licked her lips, studying his profile. “Seriously, Rhys, am I in danger?”

He shook his head. “It's just Luke's way of letting you know you're being taken care of while you're here. That's all.”

Well, his way seemed pretty heavy-handed and only solidified her fear there might be a threat against her.

Rhys merged into traffic and flicked a glance in her direction. “How about we drop your suitcase at your hotel and then I take you out to see the city for awhile?”

That perked her up. Time alone with Rhys so she could get to know him better?
Sorry, Mike, but you might be eating solo tonight.
“Sure, sounds great, but I didn't pack any outdoor clothes.”

“No problem, we'll pick you up some.” He seemed utterly at home behind the wheel in a new city.

She had to admit she admired the way he drove. He'd only come in today, and yet he got on the bridge to Vancouver like he drove the route every day. Must come naturally to him after mastering land navigation skills in the service. Something to be said for a well traveled, confident man.

Whatever. Rhys would be sexy flossing his teeth, for God's sake. He really did have spectacular teeth, she thought, glancing down at his hands on the wheel. Gorgeous there, too—