Bound By Temptation (9 page)

“I appreciate the help, honestly I do,” she said, hurrying across the smoky green, diamond shaped tile to the sink. “But I can take care of the dishes myself. It’s the big stuff I needed help with.”

Russo’s dark head turned. A black, shuttered gaze scanned her face before dropping to her hands, which Tag had insisted on medicating and re-bandaging before they’d left for her house. “You should wait a few days before getting them wet.”

He sounded like Lucas, which reminded her. “Where’d everyone disappear to?”

“They’re around.” Apparently dismissing the discussion, Russo turned back to the sink.

Not much of a conversationalist, was he?

The roar of a lawn mower started up in her backyard. They were mowing her lawn too? She shifted to stare out the kitchen window above the sink. Well not all of them, just Lucas. Somehow that realization brought the sting of tears. Why, she had no clue. It hadn’t even occurred to her how hard it would be to take care of her yard. But Lucas had thought about it and done it for her. Somehow that simple act of kindness melted her heart.

Something brushed against her leg and she looked down to find Cuddles staring up at her with bright, excited eyes. The dog had certainly adapted remarkably well to her new life. She’d barely barked at the half dozen strange men she’d found herself surrounded by.

By the time the house was cleared, cleaned, swept and ready for habitation again, Emma was desperately in need of more pain meds. Lucas, once again, seemed aware of that fact before she was herself. Just as Emma was about to hobble into her bathroom and find the bottle of aspirin, Lucas showed up at her side with a glass of water and two white pills. His hot body toasted her right side, alleviating some of the pain from her aching muscles. With a sigh, she reached for the water and pills. After swallowing the meds, she offered him an appreciative smile.

“Thanks. For everything.” Her throat tightened. Her eyes started to burn. She was just tired, that’s all. The sting of tears had nothing to do with how quietly supportive he’d been all day and after she’d been such a bitch to him the day before. “I honestly can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you did for me today.”

The muscles of his face loosened and the flat, careful look in his eyes lightened beneath a smile. “My pleasure.” He stretched his back. “You don’t have much to sit on now. If you want to hit a furniture store, we can do that before dinner.”

A furniture store meant new furnishings, which didn’t work for her current budget. However, down the road, she’d check out some of the secondhand stores around town. She’d gotten a great deal on the loveseat Samantha was reupholstering, at Carmichaels. She’d try them first.

“The seating won’t be so sparse once Sam delivers the loveseat,” Emma said absently, soaking in his damp heat. He smelled of cut grass and sweat, neither of which should smell so intoxicating, yet somehow did. At least on Lucas.

“Delivers?” A hint of sharpness edged Lucas’s question. “The loveseat wasn’t here when your place was trashed?”

Emma shot him a puzzled look, but then the meaning behind his question registered. “No,” she said slowly. “I picked it up at a secondhand store months ago, I loved the bones of it,”—it had the high, arched sides and back of the Victorian era— “but the upholstery was stained, and torn, and simply awful. Sammy’s an upholsterer, so she offered to have it recovered as a house warming present.”

Lucas frowned. “Did you tell Rio about this?”

She shook her head, feeling like a fool. “I’ve had it for months, and Samantha’s had it a couple of weeks now. I’d forgotten about it.”

Could that really be what the intruders had been looking for? But after a second she shook her head again. The loveseat being the focus of the home invasion didn’t make sense. “Whoever ransacked my house was looking in some pretty small places—like behind picture frames and inside pots. Why bother, if they were after the loveseat?”

His frown eased. After a second, he shrugged and ran a hand down his face. “I don’t know, but it’s worth mentioning to Rio tonight at the barbeque.”

She pulled back in surprise. This was the first she’d heard of a barbeque.

“We’re just about done here. Tag took off to grab some burgers and beer. Milly and Mooch are headed to the dump with the truck. They’ll meet us back at the house,” Lucas said.

Okay…

“I wish you’d told me about this before now.” Emma straightened with enough of a snap to set her spine screaming. Maybe she should ease back on the sudden movements until the aspirin kicked in. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t give him a good lecture on neighborly etiquette. “The least I can do is feed you guys. After all, you spent the whole day helping me out.” She might not be up to cooking for six ravenous adult men, although a barbeque sounded like heaven, but— “I can at least pick up the tab!”

“You can pick up the tab next time.” He slung a casual arm over her shoulders and turned her around, shepherding her toward the front door. “Just relax and let us take care of you for now.”

She subsided, mostly because Lucas was an unmovable object when he was dead set on something. Besides, she could slip Tag the money for the food and beer when she paid him back for the new kitchen door he’d picked up and installed. They stepped out on the porch. Lucas waited for her to close and lock the front door. Emma concentrated on easing down the stairs without antagonizing her knees and back. Once the grass was beneath her feet, she relaxed and glanced up, ready to apologize for being so slow.

Only Lucas wasn’t paying her the slightest attention. He was too busy scanning both sides of the street, the houses across the road, the homes to their right and left, and the two elderly couples walking the side walk. He shot his taciturn lieutenant commander, who was leaning against Lucas’s Jeep, a questioning look.

Russo responded with a clipped nod, followed by his own quick scan of the street.

What the heck was going on?

Although he didn’t say a word or try to hustle her along, she sensed a sudden shift in Lucas’s attitude—he went from patient to restless, maybe even edgy. When they reached his Jeep, he waited for her to pick up Cuddles and then helped her into the passenger seat. After slamming the door, and he approached Russo. The two men spoke, a terse conversation full of frowns that concluded in seconds.

Too bad she couldn’t hear what they were saying; something told her it would be illuminating.

When Lucas climbed behind the wheel and Russo into the back seat, Emma twisted to stare at them. Another sudden movement, followed by another sharp twinge of punishment.

She waited for her breath to return. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Lucas said.

And that had been the most unconvincing response she’d ever heard from him.

“Russo’s car is still parked in front of my house,” she reminded him. “Why is he coming with us, instead of driving his own car over?” she paused, before adding flatly. “Something’s going on.”

The two men exchanged looks.

“We’re just taking precautions. Avoiding a rinse and repeat,” Lucas finally said, shooting her a reassuring look.

He meant a repeat of what had happened the morning before, when the men in the van had tried to kidnap her.

Cruel fingers sinking into her arms…dead eyes watching her struggle with a terrifying lack of sympathy.

A chill winnowed through her, sinking deep. She’d almost forgotten the incident. She’d felt so safe with Lucas beside her, she’d managed to shove the attempted kidnapping to the back of her mind.

“Do you think—” She twisted further in her seat to stare down the road they’d traveled. This time the jolt of pain felt removed, unimportant.

“No.” Lucas covered her tense, bandaged hand with his. “We just believe in being prepared.”

They were SEALs. And from what little she’d heard and read about this particular breed of men, they took precautions to the extreme. So it made sense that he’d have backup in the car with him—just in case.

So why didn’t she believe him?

Why was that little voice inside her, the one she’d learned to pay attention to years ago, whispering that there was more to their paranoia than simply being prepared?

L
ucas had barely pulled away
from Emma’s house when Dylan Hollister hit his phone up.

“Yeah?” He shifted in the driver’s seat, the leather squeaking beneath his jeans and sealed the cell to his ear so Emma wouldn’t catch the conversation—or at least Hollister’s half of it.

“You have a tail,” Hollister said laconically. “Black SUV. Tinted windows.”

Lucas wasn’t surprised. That vehicle had been hinky from the get-go, triggering all his reflexes. Besides, he could see the asshole in his rear view mirror.

Didn’t the bastard have any training? He should have backed off at least a half dozen car lengths, or better yet—tag teamed him with an associate. As it stood, the SUV stuck out like a big black thumb.

“I got him,” Lucas said.

From the skeptical looks Emma kept tossing his and Russo’s way, she hadn’t bought his earlier attempt at reassurance. Even though, at the time, everything he’d told her had been true. He and the boys
had
just been taking precautions—that’s what special operators did. And they hadn’t known for sure whether the guy in the SUV was after Emma.

They knew for sure now.

His cell phone crackled, the static was followed by Hollister’s voice. “What’s the plan?”

“A barbeque. My place. Watch our six and circle in from the north.”

“Copy.” The call ended.

“If you tell me that call was nothing,” Emma snapped, “I’m going to tell Cuddles to bite you.”

Lucas glanced down at the scruffy mutt curled in Emma’s lap just as the dog fixed her misaligned blue and brown eyes on him and bared her gums. He fought to keep a straight face, but a grin snuck out.

“You think that’s funny?”

“Sweetheart, she has no teeth, which kinda defeats the threat.”

She harrumphed. “I’m not kidding, Lucas. Nor am I a child.
What’s going on?
”

Given the escalating situation and the fact he was about to make alternative sleeping arrangements for her, he’d have to tell her what was happening eventually. Might as well take care of that now.

“We’re being followed.”

She went rigid beside him, her fingers knotting in Cuddles’s fur. “Followed? Are you sure?”

“Yeah. We’re sure,” Lucas told her.

He could hear the click in her throat as she swallowed. But then she coughed and straightened her shoulders. “By how many men?”

His chest tightening, he captured her hand, giving it a quick squeeze before letting go. She had guts. He’d give her that. She’d faced her fear head on.

“One.” He glanced in the rearview mirror. The SUV was still on their tail. Even closer now.

Suddenly she relaxed. “Just one?”

Her reaction was curious enough to catch his attention. He shot her an inquisitive look. Her face was as serene and unperturbed as her voice.

“Against the six of you?” she continued with lifted eyebrows. “One against six SEALs? Is he mentally challenged?” There was honest to Christ amusement in her voice.

From the back seat Russo barked out a laugh. “She has a point.”

Lucas shook his head, smiling. “Give the bastard some credit, he doesn’t
know
we’re SEALs.”

She snorted. “With one look he should
know
that tangling with you is a bad idea.”

Her faith in them lit a warm glow in his gut. From there the warmth mushroomed out, engulfing his entire body.

But she didn’t know everything…

He hesitated, glancing at her radiant, amused face. It was a shame to scuttle her confidence, but she needed to be prepared in case their strategy wandered into FUBAR territory.

“It’s doubtful he’ll try anything on his own. He’s probably a scout, sent to wait for you to show up and track you to where you’re staying.” Lucas glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

Although she’d stilled, she seemed more thoughtful than tense. “Okay. But you’re planning something, aren’t you?”

Russo caught Lucas’s gaze in the rearview mirror, caution heavy in his dark eyes. His L.C. wasn’t big on sharing strategy with civilians. But Emma wasn’t just a civilian. Their plan directly impacted her life. If they fucked up, it could end it. She had a right to know.

Which, come to think of it, had been her point the night before. Not the dying part, but the right to know part.

He frowned, checking the rearview mirror again. The black SUV was hanging in there. He slowed, took a right. The Vehicle—a Chevy Tahoe—navigated the turn right behind him. There was no doubt the bastard was following them. He was so fucking obvious; he’d be visible to a toddler. The real question was whether the bastard didn’t give a rat’s ass about being discovered, or whether he was really that inept.

“Lucas?” she said, her voice determined.

“Yeah?” He avoided Russo’s demanding gaze in the rearview mirror. “We’re going to set sentries and wait for them to come to us.”

A hard shove from behind drove his seat forward a good three inches. His L.C. was not happy.

“Maybe you should talk to Rio before you set this trap,” Emma offered tentatively.

Ah fuck
.

He grimaced, hoping like hell she wouldn’t get a wild hair and spill the beans to Rio. While Dante still associated with the teams, his loyalty was to the law now, as it should be. He wouldn’t stand aside and let them grab the bastards.

Russo muttered something nasty beneath his breath.

“Our best chance of finding out why these guys are after you is to draw them into a trap. We have the man power and training to do just that.”

“I know that.” She turned to stare at him, tension in the rigid line to her jaw, worry burning in her eyes. “But shouldn’t the cops be in on this?”

“So they can arrest the bastards only to have them lawyer up without telling us anything?” He paused, slowing the Jeep to take another right turn. “We need to find out what’s going on, Emma. You won’t be safe until we do. And there’s no guarantee the cops will get that information from them. The boys and I can—we will.”

Conflict worked the muscles of her face. “But won’t you get in trouble? There was something on the news a while back about some Navy SEALs facing charges for breaking some federal law that prevented them from acting as cops. Isn’t this the same thing?”

She was talking about Zane, Cosky, Rawls and Mac, and the backlash when they’d broken the Posse Comitatus Act. The ugly mess they’d been sucked into had hit all the news channels. A mixture of frustration and rage stirred. His teammates hadn’t deserved the assholery that had followed. Talk about getting fucked over for doing the right thing. He sought out Russo’s gaze in the mirror and saw the same disgusted fury burning in his L.C.’s black eyes.

“No. It’s not the same thing.” He kept his voice quiet, confident. “We won’t take premeditated action; we’ll be
reacting
to a home invasion, protecting our lives and property. There may be an investigation, but nothing will come of it.”

He glanced in the rear view mirror, grimacing at the dry expression on Russo’s face. Had Mackenzie and Zane thought the same thing?

“I see.” She was silent for several heartbeats, before releasing a big, shaky breath. “So we’re just going to wait for them to attack you?”

He held the smile inside but satisfaction rose. She’d just aligned herself with him. “That’s about the size of it. You’ll need to stay the night with Chris Quay and Lynden Racine.”

For the first time unease touched her face. “Why can’t I stay with you?”

“Because if our plan goes south, I want you safe. Which means off the premises.” He shot her a reassuring look. “You’ll be safe with Quay and Racy.”

“Let me guess, they’re SEALs too.” Her tone was dry, rather than admiring.

“They used to be.” He left it at that. If they wanted her to know more, they would fill her in themselves.

Silence rode with them for the next mile. They’d almost arrived at their destination, when Emma suddenly twisted to study Lucas’s face.

“Didn’t you say Officer Addario is coming to the barbeque,” she asked, her eyebrows rising.

“I did.”

“Why in the world did you invite him? He’ll know something’s going on.”

Lucas grunted. “Not if we handle things right.”

She shook her head, which apparently wasn’t strong enough to convey her skepticism, because she added an eye roll. “I knew something was going on, and I’m not nearly as suspicious as your buddy.”

Fair point. He frowned, before shrugging the disquiet off.

The upcoming barbeque was key to their strategy. It gave them a reason to congregate. It gave everyone a reason for coming and going as they traded sentry duty. It gave the bastards following Emma a good look at where she was staying, while she was safely surrounded by bodyguards.

The only downside was Rio. Once those assholes tailing Emma made their move, everything that took place prior to their attack would come under scrutiny. The fact he’d thrown a barbeque wouldn’t go unnoticed. Rio would know the instant he heard about the shindig that something fishy had gone on. Addario had always been invited to the SEAL community’s get-togethers. The fact Lucas had talked to him earlier that day, without mentioning or inviting him to the event. would raise a huge, red flag.

For their strategy to play out as planned, they’d had to invite Rio.

They just had to make damn certain they didn’t throw the game into Addario’s court.

* * *

E
mma gingerly stretched
, catching her breath at the whitewash of pain that flashed down her spine and into her legs. She was about due for another batch of pain pills.

A quartet of male voices shouted in laughter across the cement patio, next to the smoking barbeque. She inhaled the rich, greasy scent of cooking meat as she relaxed back into the recliner’s leather embrace. She’d already laid waste to one of Tag’s thick, juicy hamburgers, sneaking pieces to Cuddles, who’d taken to hiding beneath the footrest of the recliner. But the delicious, tempting scent permeating the air was luring her toward a second helping, even though her belly was full and her body lazy.

With an effortless leap, Cuddles jumped onto Emma’s lap. After a nervous glance toward the horde of men clustered around the patio, she curled up and laid down.

Where were the women? Didn’t any of these guys have girlfriends? Wives? Significant others? In the past there had been women along with the men at Lucas’s barbeques. Why not this time? Maybe it had something to do with the fact this party was an elaborate ruse, and the men weren’t actually here for socializing but for setting a trap. She’d have to ask him, when he returned to her side. He’d been busy playing host, shifting from group to group, with periodic checks on her, over the past hour.

But before his attention had been captured by his hostly duties—or more likely, strategic planning with the rest of his team—he’d dragged the huge, comfortable living room recliner onto the patio. For her. He’d gone to all that trouble
for her
. To make sure she had a cushy place to sit, rather than the hard, plastic chairs spread throughout the patio.

Once again he’d keyed into her wellbeing and silently taken steps to make her as comfortable as possible. He’d taken care of her. Again. Like he had when he’d arranged the clean-up for her house, and when he'd mowed her lawn, and when he appeared by her side with a couple of pain killers and a glass of water. Or like early this evening, when he handed her a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, rather than a beer.

He’d remembered her favorite wine, and had Tag pick up some bottles.

Something about that stung her eyes.

In a sense, even this trap he’d set for her stalkers was his way of taking care of her. Protecting her.

Everything he’d done, over the past twenty-four hours, had been intended to keep her either comfortable or safe. She frowned. Something in that realization niggled at her, but before she had a chance to chase it down, Lucas dropped into the plastic chair beside her recliner.

“How you doing?” he asked, raising his voice to combat the conversational roar surrounding them. He handed her a pair of white pills and a glass water.

He must be keeping a pretty close eye on her, because he always seemed to know when the stiffness and muscle spasms started back up.

“I’m good,” she yelled back, which caused poor Cuddles to jolt and jump off her lap. After tossing the pills back and washing them down, she patted the side of the recliner, encouraging Cuddles to jump back up. Once the dog was settled in her lap again, she caught and held Lucas’s sharp gaze. “Thank you,” she mouthed.

He shrugged, looking uncomfortable, and lifted the bottle of Coors to his mouth. As he tipped his head back and took a long pull, the muscles of his neck flexed. The strongest impulse shook her—to press her lips to that strong throat and taste him. Her breast instantly heated, her nipples pebbling.

Seeking a distraction, she glanced over the two dozen or so men milling about the porch. They sat or stood—beer bottles in hand—in clusters of three to eight. The guys sure liked their beer and brand didn’t seem to matter. As each of Lucas’s friends arrived, they added a case or half case to the bottles chilling in the cooler. She’d seen a good dozen brands in various masculine hands.