BILLIONAIRE BIKERS: 3 MC Romance Books (48 page)

BOOK: BILLIONAIRE BIKERS: 3 MC Romance Books
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At that moment, her seatmate returned, and Lucas was forced to vacate.

“Well, Audra, brief but lovely.”

# # #

As he returned to his business class seat, he finally pulled out the envelope he had been given just before he left. They had made arrangements so he would not have a seatmate, allowing him to study the materials without anyone looking over his shoulder.

All he knew was that he was picking up a new assignment and was told to take the person somewhere out of the way. He had thought about taking them into the middle of the city because it was more anonymous, but while it might be a little safer for the witness, it would be much more difficult for him to keep tabs on the individual. Besides, he was due for a little vacation, and this was as close as he was going to get to it.

He had time before the plane pulled up to the gate, just enough time to run through the preliminaries. He could at least see who he was meeting and where. They would allow him to deplane first, so he would want to know where he was going as soon as he exited.

He opened the file and ran his finger across the bold headings, skimming for information: Female, age 20, witness to a murder by the San Martes cartel. He was surprised they weren’t sending them somewhere farther away than California; but, at least he had chosen a place in the foothills of the Sierra Nevadas, a little tourist area where somebody from a drug cartel would stand out like sore thumb. This would be a piece of cake.

He flipped back to see the meet-up instructions and was puzzled because he was supposed to meet her at the same gate where he was coming in. Would he be meeting someone else who was bringing her to him? That hadn’t been his understanding.

At last, he flipped to the back of the folder where her picture was filed. He froze. There she was, looking back at him with the same raven hair, light eyes, and full mouth.
Audra!
The jump in his stomach was immediately followed by, “What the fuck have I done?”

 

 

2

 

As he stood at the gate waiting for her, he adopted his Secret Service-type look: dark shades, standing feet slightly apart, hands crossed in front of him. Of course, there was no point in the disguise, but he had to do something to make her take him seriously.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! How in the hell was he going to be around this woman who completely intoxicated him? As much as he hated it, he knew the routine.
Steel nuts
was what it would take—that and a steel heart.

She came out of the gate looking around, seeing only him. She looked away immediately, but couldn’t keep from laughing underneath her breath. Why was he looking all bodyguard-ish?

As soon as those words passed through her mind, she was horrified. She jerked her head back toward him then looked around once more to make sure there wasn’t anyone else.

She was not going to make this easy on him. He motioned her toward him, and she sauntered over.

“I really, really don’t have time, nor do I want to,” she said.

“Want to what?” asked Lucas.

“Have a quickie,” Audra responded.

“Okay,” he said, “game’s over.”

“Huh?” she asked.

“You know what this is about.”

“I do. You want me. Get over yourself.”

She saw his jaw tighten, and he looked around, surveying the area.

“Okay, Miss Donahue.”

She looked at him with mock surprise. “How do you know my last name?”

“Knock it off,” he said, grabbing her arm and steering her past the entrance to a waiting car.

“But my luggage!” she said.

“We’ll buy everything new when we get where we’re going.”

“Wait! How do I know you’re the good guy?”

He flashed his badge.

“Right. Onward, Mr. Dillon.”

“Very funny. Marshal Roberts, thank you.”

She saluted him as he opened the door, shielding her head with his hand as she ducked through it. In the street, he looked at their surroundings then climbed in beside her.

She sank back into the corner of the car and just looked at him while he looked straight ahead. He was still wearing his dark glasses.

“So, as if I haven’t had enough loss, you’re taking the last of my things away from me?”

“You were told not to carry anything of value. Did you?”

“No.”

“Then, it shouldn’t be a big loss.”

It had stopped being funny now, and she began to contemplate the ramifications of it all. .

“So, where are we going?”

“You’ll know when we get there—if I allow you to.”


If
you
allow
me?”

“Yes. One of the very first things you will have to learn is not to take liberties. You’ll do as I say.”

“Whoa!” she guffawed. “That’s a good one.
Me
take liberties? I’ll do as you say, huh? Does that include being your sex slave?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Darn.”

He removed his shades and turned toward her.

“Miss Donahue, we have had a very unfortunate and unpleasant beginning and for that I apologize. However, we have to get everything back on the right foot.”

She just continued to stare at him.
Unfortunate? Yes. Unpleasant? Not at all.
In fact, she was miffed at his choice of words.

From the airport, they went into the city. Leaving the car behind, they took the rapid transit beneath the bay to Oakland where a privately-owned vehicle awaited.

“Why all the vehicle switching?” she asked.

“To disorient and, hopefully, lose anyone who might be on to us.”

At the first rest stop, they came to—once they were on the highway—he went in and changed his clothes into something casual. “To blend in,” he said.

They drove the remaining 70-some-odd miles to Stockton without saying a word.

“Hungry?” he said at last.

“Yes, and I have to pee.”

“I see. Alright, then.”

They took the next exit. Although they passed restaurant after restaurant, he kept going until they were in the heart of the city. They finally stopped at one of those eclectic restaurant chains.

“Jeez, I hope I can make it to the restroom.”

“I have to go with you.”

“What?”

“I will stand outside, but I do have to accompany you to the restroom.”

“Whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes.

She didn’t dally this time, not wanting him to come in after her. He was waiting outside the door in a casual stance. She was glad he wasn’t still looking all U.S. Marshal now. They could blend fairly well as just another couple.

Just another couple
, she thought.
Quite the irony.

“So where are we going, really?” she asked as they ate pancakes and steak.

“I really can’t discuss it, but it’s a favorite place of mine—some place that gives me a little peace of mind.”

She liked the sound of that.

Once they were back in the car, he seemed a little more relaxed, but his jaw was still set.

“Look, can I break the ice here?” she asked.

He shrugged. “You can try.”

“I know we have to make this work somehow. We’re going to be together for a long time. For what it’s worth, I’m not usually out to be the slutty little temptress.”

“You could have fooled me.”

“Okay, I deserve that; but, I will behave. I will mind my own business. By the way, what will my business be?”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t just sit around and read my Kindle for however long it takes till they call us back.”

“Do crossword puzzles.”             

“Hey! Look at me. I’m young! I’m alive! I want to do stuff.”

He looked at her, and she couldn’t help note that he appraised her from face to calves. “Yes, you are very, very fortunate to be alive, and I’m trying to keep you that way.”

She had no rejoinder for that. She watched the road ahead, marveling at the flat grasslands giving way to the uprising hills dotted green and gold.

# # #

“So where are we, exactly,” she asked, “besides somewhere about a hundred miles east of San Francisco?”

“Gold country,” he replied.

“Gold country?”

“Yes. You know, 1849. Gold rush and all that.”

“This is where it happened?”

“This is where it started.”

“Right here?”

“Well, no. Sutter’s Mill was north and east of here, but it spread quickly all throughout the area.”

She marveled at the hills on all sides. “So is it all gone?”

He smiled subtly. “No. They say there’s still a lot of gold up here, but now the cost of mining it has outstripped what they could get in return.”

“Yay, inflation! So, it costs too much money to produce the stuff that backs the money?”

“Well, U.S. currency hasn’t adhered to a gold standard for a long time.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Not since the Great Depression.”

“What? Why? How does it work then? You mean all those bills are just worthless pieces of paper?”

“Well, they’re not worth gold, but they’re not worthless. You get something in exchange for them, right?”

“Yes, but….”

“Never mind. Don’t let it bother your pretty little head.”

“My pretty little…?” she started, indignantly.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m just saying that economics is complex and that you likely wouldn’t care if I explained it.”

She fumed for a few moments before she asked, “So there’s still gold up there?”

“Yeah. In fact, one of the main tourist attractions up here is panning for gold.”

“No doubt.”

“I once knew a guy who showed me an Altoids box full of little nuggets. He said he lived at the bottom of a hill, underneath a sheer drop, and after every significant rain, he could go out in his driveway and just pick up the nuggets out of the gravel in his driveway.”

“Get out!”

“Seriously. He told me he had put his four kids through college with the money he got for them.”

“Sheesh.”

There was silence for a few minutes while she looked out the side mirror next to her window for the fortieth time.

“Did you know that the same car has been following us since that town where we ate dinner?”

“Stockton? Yes, I am aware of that.”

“Are we in danger?”

He laughed. “No. They’re my relief.”

“Relief?”

“You didn’t think I was going to put up with you by myself 24/7, did you? Two other guys are meeting us in Angels Camp.”

“Angels Camp? As in Mark Twain’s Angels Camp?”

“The very one. I’m surprised you know that reference.”

She shrugged. “I read
Jumping Frog
in 7
th
grade.”

“Didn’t we all? Yes, they hold the Calaveras County Jumping Frog Contest there every year.”

“I had the impression that it was a pretty small town.”

“It is.”

“Oh,” she said and then paused before she said, “Two other guys, huh? How’s that going to work?”

“In 8 hour shifts, I suppose.”

“So you mean one of you is going to be outside my door around the clock?”

“That’s how it works.”

“Why aren’t you all together?”

“I’m the senior man, so I do all the planning. I came up from Tucson with you. These guys are out of Sacramento. They fell in with us in Stockton.”

“Well, that explains why you made me wait another 20 minutes to pee when I was already at the bursting point. But why didn’t they join us at the café?”

“It was just best in a place like Stockton that we not all be seen together. You and I can appear like any couple out there; but, three guys with you would be too obvious if someone were looking for you.”

“And we have to assume they are, right?”

“That’s what this detail is all about.”

As they drove into Angels Camp, right past the Jumping Frog Motel, she started to giggle. “It’s just…just….”

“Just what?”

“Too cute for words.”

He rolled his eyes. “Does that mean you like it?”

“Uh, no. It’s a cow town.”

“You came here from a cow town.”

She gave him a look of mock dismay. “But it was a BIG cow town.”

“You’ll get used to it. It’s small and safe.”

In a few minutes, they wound through the streets to an older residential area and pulled up to a huge multi-gabled house. It was two stories tall, and the number of dormers across the top indicated to Audra that the house might contain as many as eight bedrooms.

“Honey, we’re home,” he said, as he opened his door to get out. “Don’t mind me if I don’t open your door for you.”

She got out and looked around at the landscape surrounding the house, tall oaks and a stand of Italian cypress. A large brick wall, at least eight feet high, went down both sides of the house and presumably across the back as well, creating an impediment for any would-be intruders or even casual observers. A sign indicated,
The Nestor House
, which was apparently on the historic registry.

“So this is home-sweet-home?”

“However long it takes.”

Just then the second car pulled up, and two men got out.

Lucas walked over to meet them, and they stood talking briefly.  He motioned Audra over to him.

“Audra, this is Deputy Lon Brighton and Deputy Bill Taylor.”

“Hello,” she said awkwardly.

“Ma’am,” Deputy Taylor nodded. “You can just call me Bill.”

He is cute—for an older guy. He looks like he might have been dangerous at one time, but he is maybe a little mellower now.

Brighton nodded to her.

He’s handsome, but not heart-stopping gorgeous like Lucas.

A woman wearing a white apron came to the door and opened it.

“Looks like we’re ready,” Lucas said. He turned and nodded toward Audra who started toward the door.

“You don’t need your bag?”

“Oh, I assumed….”

“I’m not the bellhop.”

“Right. Sorry, Marshal Roberts.”

She retrieved her carry-on bag from the back seat, and they entered the house. She was surprised by the interior but didn’t know why she should be. Everything about the town said historical preservation, and this house was certainly no exception. Floral-patterned wallpaper, huge antique wood furniture—sideboards, cupboards, chairs, tables, everything. It reminded her of a life-sized version of the dollhouse she had as a child.

BOOK: BILLIONAIRE BIKERS: 3 MC Romance Books
13.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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