Secure Target (Elite Operators) (6 page)

Lacey was on the other side, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lacey repeated desperately, shading her eyes with her hand. “I thought you were in the other room.”

“Uh, it’s okay,” Bronnik said haltingly, his voice gruff. “Give me five minutes.”

She shut the door and practically ran back to the bed, climbed up and sat cross-legged. She grabbed the TV remote and switched on the morning news, but despite staring at the screen, all she could see in her mind was Bronnik.

She figured he was in shape, but she hadn’t counted on his body being the stuff of fantasies. Trim and toned, not too bulky, with a smattering of golden hair across a firm chest, a tantalizingly low-slung tan line, because of course it would be summer in the southern hemisphere, and while the towel had concealed the most intimate part of him, she’d nonetheless caught a glimpse of a narrow hipbone and the tight curve of his rear.

She clamped her hands over her eyes at the memory, trying to shove it out of her mind.

The door to the bathroom opened and Bronnik stepped out, freshly shaven and barefoot, in jeans and a blue button-down shirt.

“It’s all yours,” he said, and Lacey rushed inside, closing the door behind her as musky shaving-cream-and-shampoo-scented steam enveloped her.

When Lacey emerged from the bathroom she found that Bronnik and Thando had been joined by Detective Harris and another man she hadn’t met, who was in his early forties, swarthy, and had a thatch of thick, dark hair. The four were gathered around the small, round table the room offered, which was laid with an array of coffee, bagels and doughnuts.

“Have a seat.” Harris leapt up from his chair, but she waved him back down as she grabbed a bagel and coffee and flopped onto the bed.

“Lacey, this is Agent Carver from the FBI. He’ll be assisting us today,” Thando explained, and she returned Carver’s nodded greeting.

“The plan for today”—Bronnik began, and immediately Lacey thought of the line where his golden, tanned skin became a little lighter. She was sure her blush must be lighting up the room, but he continued, seemingly unaware—“is to be as visible as possible. Hardy’s already taken a shot at me, so we know he’s eager to get me out of the equation. Thando, Detective Harris and Agent Carver will be trailing us all day, in the hope that when he puts his head above the parapet, so to speak, they can take him down.”

“And if he does take another shot, as you put it?” she piped up. “What then?”

His expression was eerily calm. “We hope I’m faster.”

“And why you? Why isn’t he equally as keen to eliminate Thando?”

“She asks good questions,” Carver remarked, and Harris smiled.

Bronnik looked to his partner, who said, “In our last encounter with Hardy, Bronnik shot and wounded him. We think the hit was to the thigh, but we’re not sure—we haven’t seen him to get visual confirmation of his injury.”

Lacey thought again of the video clip she’d seen last night, of Bronnik hoisting that enormous automatic weapon. The image was so at odds with a man who spent enough time on the beach to have a tan line from his board shorts. She met his gaze for a long, steady moment, hoping in vain to reconcile the two and make sense of this dangerous man.

“Okay,” she confirmed finally, dropping her eyes, having resolved absolutely nothing. “Where to first?”

“The mall,” Thando supplied. “On the pretense that perhaps you need to pick up a few things for your extended period in protective custody.”

“So, are we doing the marriage thing still? Because if we run into anyone I know, they’ll never believe it.”

“Why not?” Bronnik asked.

Because I’ve never had anything even resembling a relationship. Because I’m too plain and provincial to be interesting to someone from so far away. Because no one would ever believe I could catch and keep a man as good-looking as you.
“This is a small town. All my friends know I’m not seeing anyone.”

As Bronnik regarded her steadily, Thando replied, “That’s just the cover story for the hotel, in case Hardy was trying to find you from the guest records. Wear the rings out through the lobby, but don’t worry about it after that.”

“If we do come across anyone you know, you can tell them I’m your cousin. Or your boyfriend. Maybe we met on the Internet. It’s up to you.” Bronnik shrugged.

“Whatever you think you can say with the most conviction,” Agent Carver added.

“All right then.” Lacey turned to Bronnik, unable to stop the wry smile that tugged at her lips. “You can be my Internet boyfriend.”

Chapter Five

Two stores and just over an hour later, Lacey felt like she was on the worst date of her life, except she couldn’t plead a headache and make her way home.

Bronnik had hovered around her as she’d made her way through the aisles of a department store. Sometimes he drifted ahead, motioning for her to stop if he thought he saw something. At other times she almost lost track of him, he lagged so far behind, and then when he’d completed his surveillance without result he jogged to catch up, scowling at the distance she’d put between them. When she suggested they move to another shop he just shrugged, barely looking at her in his haste to rush ahead and check the area outside the store’s entrance.

After five minutes in the second location didn’t promise anything different, she whirled on him with an exasperated sigh.

“Bronnik, I’m sorry, but you’re driving me crazy. If moving through big stores is going to be too difficult for you, maybe we should just go sit in a cafe.”

If his surprise wasn’t genuine, he was one hell of an actor. “What are you talking about? I’m fine. Carry on shopping.”

She let her eyes fall shut for a brief second as she reined in her temper.
He’s trying to save your life
, she reminded herself.
He’s here to keep you safe
.

“I don’t actually need to buy anything, and it’s obvious that you’re not enjoying this. Let’s get a coffee, or go for a walk instead.”

A flash of sulkiness marred his handsome face for barely a heartbeat before his features took on the cold, detached smoothness that was more familiar. “I thought I was doing well,” he remarked with a hint of petulance. “But if you’d rather walk around, that’s all right with me.”

“I would. And if you could try to look normal? Like my companion as opposed to my Secret Service bodyguard? That would be a huge help.”

As soon as the words left her mouth she realized how harsh she sounded, but it was too late. He fell into step beside her, his silence stony and complete. With a roll of her eyes she led them down the wide, second-floor walkway, trying to pace herself to make their stroll last—the mall was not very large.

For eleven o’clock on a snowy Wednesday morning, the mall was more crowded than she expected. She wondered if her fellow shoppers were taking care of all of the errands they’d skipped during the bad weather yesterday, or if it only took an afternoon cooped up indoors to make people seek out any excuse to leave the house.

She tried to imagine a different reality, one in which their cover story was true, that she really had fallen in love with a tall, sexy blond, and that he was so enamored of her that he was willing to fly thousands of miles to visit her in her no-frills, typically Midwestern hometown. He’d surprise her with a proposal on his last night in town, and the tearful parting at the airport would be redeemed by a hasty but sincere courthouse marriage a few months later. They’d move into a bigger house, he’d get a construction job while he waited for a place in the police academy, and before long they’d be hanging a “Baby’s First Christmas” ornament on a light-strewn tree.

As they passed store after store of affordable, practical and decidedly unglamorous offerings, Lacey almost laughed out loud at the image of this lethally skilled man with his exotic accent weaving his way through the crowd pushing a stroller, or comparing the prices of garden hoses while she picked out a new microwave.

The man was a trained killing machine. She’d seen it herself. It would take a special woman to tame him, and she very much doubted that a dental receptionist from Kansas could do the job.

Even with that in mind, his hand hung by her side, and she had to fight a strong, strange instinct to take it, as though they really were a couple, and as though this really was her life.

If she hadn’t been daydreaming, it might have occurred to her that they probably shouldn’t walk past the cell phone kiosk where she knew an ex-high school classmate worked. Then again, as she saw Tilly’s eyes light up with nosy curiosity from a few paces away, she wondered if on some subconscious level she hadn’t led them there on purpose.

“Lacey!” Tilly shrieked, as though she was unbelievably delighted they’d run into each other. “How have you been?”

“I’m fine,” Lacey replied politely. Tilly had a brother the same age as her middle brother Harlen, and when they got to high school Tilly made sure everyone was aware that Lacey was the little sister of that nasty piece of work who’d gotten a poor innocent girl pregnant and then dropped her like she was nothing. In their small school that was all it took to keep Lacey firmly on the social black list, and that Tilly herself had gotten pregnant their junior year hadn’t provided much consolation.

Bronnik eyed Tilly warily as she leaned way over the counter of the kiosk to extend her hand—and to give him an up-close view of what was stored inside her low-cut top.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Tilly Slater.”

“Bronnik Mason.” He gave her hand a brisk shake. “I’m Lacey’s fiancé.”

Suddenly Tilly’s jaw was on its way toward the floor, and her own was racing it there.

“We’re shopping for her ring today,” he continued easily. “I was in such a hurry to propose, I couldn’t stand waiting to find the right one.” He slipped his arm across her back and hugged her tightly to his side in what was becoming a familiar gesture.

“How sweet.” Tilly’s voice was shrill with tension. “And where is it you’re from? England?”

“South Africa,” Lacey supplied, sliding her own arm around his narrow waist. His proximity, the warm, solid, secure feel of him, made her feel powerful. She knew he would back her up, no matter what she said or did now. “I may be moving there.”

“Well, how interesting.” She could practically feel Tilly’s fingers itching to grab her phone and call everyone she still knew from high school—which was probably a lot of people—to spread the word that Harlen Cross’s little sister had gotten herself a man.

“Anyway, we’d better get going. It was nice to meet you.” Bronnik smiled, and its effect on Tilly couldn’t have been more apparent if she’d fainted on the spot. He steered Lacey away, his arm draped over her shoulder.

“She’s watching us,” he murmured after a few steps.

“Probably. She’s a notorious gossip.”

“I mean I can see her.” He nodded to a mirrored panel in a light fixture on the distant, high ceiling. “She’s watching us walk away.”

She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she found a reason to bump into us again this morning. She—”

Suddenly he swung her to face him, pulling her close against his chest. His face was blank and inscrutable as he raised his palm to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over the line of her jaw. Bewildered, she opened her mouth to protest, and that was when he pressed his lips to hers.

Lacey’s heart was beating so fast, her head swimming with shock and confusion, that she worried she might pass out. But as the kiss slowly moved from gentle to insistent, the dizziness was replaced by a simmering liquid heat that seemed to wash over her, filling her rib cage. His hands tightened on her waist as she pressed her palms against his chest, savoring the contrast between the soft cotton material of his shirt and the unyielding muscle beneath.

As her surroundings faded from her consciousness she parted her lips slightly, eager to invite him deeper, to encourage him to explore. Her nipples grew taut against his chest and an urgent, burning desire began to pool at the apex of her thighs.

Bronnik broke away as abruptly as he’d begun, and the cool draft of air that flowed between their parted faces struck her like a slap. When she opened her eyes his expression was strange, sitting somewhere between smug and bemused.

He brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, the tender gesture made casual and friendly in his hands. “I can’t stand a gossip,” he told her flatly. Then he took her hand in his and tugged her down the hall.

Lacey followed him, mute and obedient, as she bit back a rush of hot, humiliated tears.

Only after they’d made their way to the escalator and down to the ground level, with Lacey staring resolutely at the floor, did Bronnik realize he’d made a mistake.

He’d thought it was a cheeky, rakish ploy, stealing a kiss to piss off someone Lacey obviously didn’t like. He’d been suppressing his burgeoning lust for her all morning, compartmentalizing it deep within himself and willfully keeping his thoughts professional. When the opportunity presented itself he’d acted on impulse, without considering the potential consequences.

He hadn’t expected that the kiss would throw wide the doors of his desire. And he certainly hadn’t expected that Lacey would respond in kind.