Elite Metal-ARE-epub (97 page)

Unable to contain his lust, he lowered his head and skimmed his lips down the curve of her neck to the fleshy spot at the junction of her shoulder. He bit down gently, just barely teething her flesh, and she released a hitched breath. Her head fell back against his chest, and he buried his nose in her fragrant hair.

He let the hand that had remained on her hip ride the slope of her waist to her lower belly. If they hadn’t been surrounded by a dozen warm bodies, he would have taken a fistful of her skirt and jerked it high around her waist so he could finally touch her in the place he most wanted to explore. Still cupping her breast with his other hand, he brushed his lips against her ear and whispered, “Poppy.”

She stiffened in his embrace and confirmed what he had suspected about her identity.

Very slowly, almost as if she feared what she would discover, she turned her head and shifted her body. Their gazes clashed through the ornately decorated masks. He wanted to laugh when he noticed hers was a mirror image of his, right down to sparkling silver detail painted onto the matte black background.

“You!” she hissed accusingly.

“Me,” he replied with a teasing grin.

With a rough shove and a shockingly hard jab to his ribs with her pointy elbow, Poppy escaped his hold in a whirl of emerald silk. She strode away from him, her high heels taking her across the stained concrete floor with surprising speed. Wincing at the throbbing pain in his side, he chased after her, no longer caring who saw him or what they thought.

Come hell or high water, he was going to catch Poppy Jones.

Chapter Three

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

This isn’t happening. This is a bad dream.

Desperate to escape the humiliation awaiting her, Poppy darted away from the tantalizingly erotic scene toward the hallway lined with private rooms. She had walked the perimeter of the converted factory upon her arrival so she was able to find the hallway quickly. Though she wanted to run, she didn’t dare do anything so reckless. There were too many curious eyes and eavesdropping ears.

I’m not supposed to be here—and
he
is definitely not supposed to be here. What is going on? How did he get here? How?

Just as she stepped through the plastic curtain and into the ominously dark hallway, a pair of big, strong hands grasped her shoulders. A powerful arm curled around her waist, and a rough palm closed over her mouth, the touch gentle but warning. Even without glancing back, she knew it was him.

Silver.

With the finesse she expected from the world’s best thief, he hauled her bodily off the ground and into the nearest unoccupied room. In the blackness engulfing them, she held her breath and clutched at the arm wrapped around her waist. She heard the snap of the lock sliding into place.

A second later, Silver whirled her around and pressed her back to the door. She dropped her gold clutch. He removed her mask and his, then tossed them aside before slapping the wall in search of a light switch. When he found it, there was an audible snap as the poorly insulated electricity sparked to life and lit up the naked bulb hanging from the ceiling in what appeared to be a mock interrogation room.

Silver’s beard nearly made her heart stop and then she gasped when he began to frisk her. “What are you doing?”

He raised his head at her demanding tone. “Are you wearing a wire?”

“Are you
insane
?”

“Are you?” he shot back. With his hands clamped on her waist, he leaned into her and asked, “What the hell are you doing here, Poppy?”

“What are
you
doing here?” Avoiding his question, she turned it right back around on him. “You’re supposed to be in New Orleans.”

“And you’re supposed to be recovering from the flu,” he reminded her. “Unless that was a lie.”

“What?” She didn’t miss the slight micro-expression of hurt flashing across his face at the mere mention of her lying to him. How would he react when he discovered her connection to Warbucks or their boss’s true identity? How would he react when he learned the second team leader still hadn’t asked for him?

Her chest tightened painfully at the very thought of having to tell him that while he had been risking his life again and again for Elite Metal only Steele had come forward to request his addition to the team. There was plenty of grumbling about why the rest didn’t want him. Sometimes she wanted to whack the men upside the head with heavy files and spill all the secrets she had been holding in for months and months. If they only knew what Silver had done for them…

“I did have the flu, but I’m recovered now.”

He planted both hands on the door on either side of her head, pinning her in place, and intently studied her face. “Why are you here tonight, Poppy?”

“Why are
you
here?”

“I’m on a job.”

She blinked with confusion. “No, you aren’t. I made sure the schedules were clear. Everyone is on leave this week.”

Silver narrowed his eyes. “Are you playing covert agent, Poppy? Is that what this is? Did you send the team on vacation so you wouldn’t have to worry about anyone snooping on you?”

She swallowed anxiously. “It’s not like that. Not exactly,” she defended feebly.

“Tell me what it’s like, Poppy.
Exactly.
”

His no-nonsense tone convinced her to come clean. Lowering her voice, she lifted on tiptoes and brought her cheek close to his so she could whisper her plans. “One of the main money men for Red Wolf is coming here tonight. We’ve been tracking him for months, but he’s wily. We started a project four months ago, but it was abandoned when Warbucks decided there were better places to focus our resources.”

“Let me guess,” he interrupted. “You decided to keep the project rolling quietly on the side?”

“Something like that,” she conceded. “I was the contact with the mark. We shared a rather…intense…online friendship. He’s a valuable target, and I couldn’t stand the thought of walking away from the promise of such good intel. So tonight we’re supposed to meet in real life.”

He tilted his head to the side and seemed completely at a loss. “I have a hard time believing our mysterious employer thought sending the team’s secretary into the field to tangle with a terrorist was a killer idea.”

She swatted his arm. “I am not a secretary!”

“You’re sure as hell not a soldier or a trained agent.”

“No,” she admitted quietly, “but I know how to defend myself. I’ve had years of training in hand-to-hand combat and firearms.”

“Training in a safe environment does not equal training in a live-fire operation, Poppy.” He swore under his breath. “You don’t even have backup, do you?”

She glanced away, unable to meet his irritated gaze. Then, finally working up the courage to look at him, she stubbornly pushed out her chin. “I’ve got you.”

“Yes, you do.”

Suddenly she doubted he was talking about backup. “But I didn’t ask for your help.”

“No, you didn’t.” He didn’t sound very happy about that. “I was contacted via coded message this morning in New Orleans. I found my orders and equipment at two different drop sites. Six hours later, I was here in Houston.”

“Warbucks,” she said with a sigh. “He’s the only one with the security clearance to track you. He’s the only one who could have gotten a message to you that quickly.”

“So I take it he doesn’t approve of this little game you’re playing?”

“It’s not a game, Silver.”

“Really? Because, from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve bitten off more than you can chew and the boss sent me here to get you out before it all goes to hell.”

“Silver, please, don’t take me out of here.” Although she ranked higher than him in the organization, he was bigger and stronger and infinitely more skilled. Pleading with him, she placed her hand against his chest and marveled at the heat and strength beneath her fingertips. “I can do this.”

“I don’t doubt your tenacity, but I’m concerned about the endgame here.” He covered her hand with his. With a rough expulsion of breath, he ordered, “Tell me your plan, Poppy.”

Certain she only had one chance to get this right, she calmly laid out the facts. “The mark runs a complicated series of shell corporations and money laundering schemes through his private equity firm. We’ve been tracking him for more than a year and discovered that he enjoys spending time on a social networking site geared toward fetishes and certain lifestyles.”

“I see. Let me guess. You volunteered to draw him in like a honey pot?”

“Sort of,” she admitted. She wasn’t about to tell him that the morning she had stood over him while he was tied to that chair had flipped a switch inside her brain. “I have a rapport with him. He trusts me.”

“Yes, but what does he have that we need?”

“He knows the ins and outs of the way Red Wolf gathers his funds, but we’ve never been able to get our hands on his records because he keeps them off the grid. He stores the records in his penthouse safe, but he takes the decryption key with him everywhere.”

“So what’s your plan? You going to pickpocket him?”

“I only need the flash drive he carries for a few seconds. My phone will scan and copy the contents within seconds of plugging in into the port.”

Silver made a grumbling noise. “That’s risky, Poppy. Picking pockets is easy enough on the streets, but a guy carrying all the evidence of his dirty deeds on him? He’s going to be extremely vigilant about touch.”

“Unless he’s tied to a chair and blindfolded,” she replied matter-of-factly.

His eyes widened fractionally. “That’s your plan? You’re going to seduce and steal from him?”

“Yes.” She sensed he had a huge problem with it.

“You don’t strike me as the type of woman who does casual sex. Are you really prepared for the emotional baggage that comes with fucking a mark?”

He sounded as if he spoke from experience. She decided to ignore the pang of jealousy twisting like a knife in her chest.
He’s not your man. He can have sex with any woman he likes for whatever reason he chooses.
“I don’t plan to sleep with him.”

“Does he know that?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t bear to meet his gaze as she explained, “He doesn’t need
that
.”

Silver snorted. “Every man needs
that
.”

“Not this one,” she countered. “He has different needs.”

“And you know this because?’

Now she
really
couldn’t meet his questioning gaze. “We…role-played…online.”

“I see.” He seemed to grind out the words between clenched teeth. “On the company dime?”

“Um… No. It was at home. On my own time.”

Silver combed his long fingers through her dyed locks. “Red hair?”

“What?” She was thrown by the swift change in direction.

“The mark? He likes red hair?”

“Yes.”

“And kink?”

She nodded weakly. “Yes.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I saw you watching that couple with the chair. Were you thinking about me? About the morning you had me trussed up and at your mercy in that warehouse?”

How did he know? Glad for the shadows that covered them, she prayed he couldn’t see the heat rushing to her face and turning her skin pink. A frisson of white-hot delight rocked her core when he fisted a handful of her hair and tilted her head back. He peered down at her, his expression a mixture of exasperation and awe. “What the hell am I going to do with you?”

A dozen different ideas came to mind, each one naughtier and sexier than the last. As if sharing her thoughts, Silver’s mouth slanted with a sinful grin. He nuzzled her face and murmured, “Show me.”

“Wh-what?”

Silver pushed off the door and slowly backed away from her. He dropped down onto the rickety wooden chair in the center of the room. It squealed under his weight and protested the juvenile way he leaned back and balanced on two legs. Beckoning her forward with waving hands, he said, “Use me. Pretend I’m the mark.”

“Henry,” she whispered. “His name is Henry.”

“I don’t care about his name. I care about keeping you alive.” Gone was the sexy playfulness. He was dead serious now. “Prove to me that you can pull off this job—or else I’m tossing you over my shoulder and carting you out of here.”

She couldn’t decide which eventuality excited her more, the chance to finally indulge the fantasies that had tormented her since their first meeting or being thrown over his shoulder like some prize. “All right.”

He patted his thighs. “Come on, Irish Spring. Wow me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

“And I wish that little hint of your Irish accent wasn’t so damned adorable but it is.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not adorable.”

“It really is.” With a curious tone, he asked, “Why do you hide it?”

“I don’t hide it. I came to the States as a young child, after my parents died, and my accent naturally changed.” She didn’t tell him that her accent only slipped when she was angry or around him. She really didn’t want to think about why that was.

His smile faded. “I’m sorry, Poppy. That must have been very hard for you.”

She mentally batted away the surge of emotions and memories that arose from that far, locked off corner of her mind. “It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make it any less traumatic for the little girl you once were.”

“No,” she eventually conceded. “But I had a very kind and loving guardian who gave me a wonderful life.”

“An uncle? An aunt? Cousin? Grandparent?”

“Uncle,” she clarified.

“Married?”

“Lifelong bachelor.”

“Lifelong
rich
bachelor,” he guessed correctly.

“Yes,” she confirmed. Was he working it out for himself? Was he piecing together the few clues he possessed and coming up with the right answer?

Hoping to cut him off before he got too nosy about her past and her present, she pointed at his chest. “Take off your jacket.”

“What?”