Dance Away, Danger (12 page)

Brenna froze.
Stupid, stupid!
Would he point the nasty gun in her direction? Slowly, she peeked toward the living room.

Jason Gage remained on the couch with his eyes closed.

She closed the distance to the counter with the phone. Quickly, before she could change her mind, she dialed. “911, what’s your emergency?”

If Gage was telling the truth, she’d be responsible for handing him over to the people trying to frame him.

“What’s your emergency, please?”

Brenna disconnected.

“Thank you.” Gage’s deep voice drifted over her shoulder.

She jerked around. “I was—”

“Calling the police. I know, but something stopped you.”

“I started thinking about—”

He held up his hand and shook his head. “Don’t tell me. They’ll send someone to check on you. I’ve got to go.”

“You can’t.”

One bushy eyebrow rose.

“Your injury.” She motioned to his arm.

“I’ll live. I’ve got to get in touch with my sister.”

Crap. Should she tell him his sister had been kidnapped? He stuffed his gun into his pocket and started toward her. “Thanks for your help.” Sweat beaded on his upper lip and across his cheeks. Whatever color he’d had disappeared a little more with each step he took.

She stopped him right next to her. “You’re too sick.”

The lines framing his mouth deepened. “They’re not going to find me in your house.”

His big, broken body buckled.

Brenna wrapped her arms around his middle and shoved her shoulder into his armpit.

Through the kitchen windows, beams of light bounced into her driveway. A black and white police car braked with a screech of tires. Brenna twisted toward the door. “Damn.”

“Make a choice, sweet cheeks.” His warm breath stirred the wisps of her hair by her ear.

An impossible decision. Either way, Brenna was screwed.

****

“What’s it going to be?” Jason stared at the woman, his captive, and waited. Inside, his blood thrummed, his nerves itched to get him moving, but his gunshot wound wouldn’t let him fight like he usually did.

His life hung in the hands of one small, fragile babe.

And that truth hurt more than the bullet hole in his shoulder.

“Get to the couch.” She helped him lie down and tossed the afghan over him. “Face the back and pull the blanket up close to your face.”

Someone knocked.

She crossed the room. The door creaked open. “Can I help you, Officer?” Brenna’s sweet voice held the tiniest shake.

A male voice explained something to her, but Jason couldn’t hear the specifics. Didn’t matter. He knew when she called 911 and hung up, they’d send a car. Even if she appeared fine and acted normal and told him nothing was wrong, the officer would still demand to come through the house.

He should’ve gone out the back entrance when she picked up the phone.

“No, there’s no problem. The neighbor’s dog knocked over my garbage can and scared the hell out of me, that’s all.”

More mumbles from the policeman.

“Sure, you can come through and check.”

Jason swore in his head.

“Just don’t wake my boyfriend. He’s sick with the flu.”

“Don’t worry, ma’am. We’ll be quick, and he won’t even know we’re here.” Heavy footsteps approached him.’’

He rolled onto his bad shoulder. Mind-numbing pain flashed through his body and swirled the meager contents of his stomach. If the cop lifted the blanket, he’d see blood on his shirt. Damn, had Brenna tossed out the bandages and other garbage she’d used to try to save his shoulder?

Heavy booted steps shuffled through the house. His senses kicked in, and the hairs on his arms ticked up when one of the officers approached the couch.

“He’s been sick for days. A big pain in the ass, really, but he finally fell asleep about an hour ago. It’s a great relief for me, and....”

Brenna rambled on.
Shut up!

But he didn’t need to worry. The policemen came through the room, didn’t disturb him, and left. Brenna closed the door, and he cursed his good luck. Despite his narrow escape, he owed the woman big time.

****

Brenna returned to her
guest
and knelt on the side of the couch. “They’re gone.”

“Thank you. Those are simple words for such a huge sacrifice, but it’s all you’ll get for the time being.” He struggled to roll over. “What made you do it?”

“Not sure.” If there was even a slight possibility he told the truth, she couldn’t be responsible for delivering him over to the very people who wanted him dead. “Justice, maybe.”

He studied her, those aquamarine eyes reaching deep into her soul and searching for the details behind her choice.

“Why did you get into my car at the gas station?”

“I needed to get out of my own. They’d put out an APB for it, and I’d never have gotten away.”

“Why are they after you?”

“It’s complicated.” He clenched his jaw, as if another wave of pain shuffled through him.

“I bet.” Reaching behind her, she grabbed the facecloth from the bowl of water on the coffee table and wrung it out. Brenna placed the cloth on his forehead.

“It’s dangerous.”

“I have no doubt, but you’ve already brought me in. I deserve to hear what I could be facing.”

His lips remained closed.

Maybe she’d made the wrong choice.

“You owe me, mister.”

“My partner’s crooked. He found out I’m gathering evidence against him, and framing me is his way of trying to save his ass.”

Knots churned in her belly. He deserved to know about his sister. She glanced down at the floor.

“What is it?” He reached over, tucked a finger under her chin, and forced her to look at him..

“I need to tell you something you’re not going to want to hear.”

“Go ahead.”

“It’s your sister. They think she’s been kidnapped.”

A flash of pain rushed through his features and disappeared, replaced with cold steel. “I’ve got to go.” He tossed off the blanket and groaned.

With more courage than she thought lived within her, she said, “You can’t.” In addition to his gunshot wound, her antibiotics hadn’t worked, and his body was on fire. What if he’d caught an infection? What if he died on her couch?

“Brenna, she’s my little sister. I have to help her.”

“You can barely stand on your own two feet. You’ll be no good to her.”

Once, twice, he opened his mouth to argue with her, but no words escaped. Instead, he gawked at the TV. “Did the news mention a guy named Matt Rylan?”

“Yeah. He’s the one they think took her.”

His body relaxed. “Thank you, Hammer.”

“You know him?”

“I’m the one who sent him to her. I knew my partner would use my sister to get to me if he could, so I asked Matt to keep her safe until I’m out of trouble.”

“Is he a cop, too?”

“No.” Jason scrunched his forehead. “I’m not sure what he does, to be honest.”

Brenna frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“He was in the military with me a lifetime ago, and we haven’t seen each other in a while.”

He made less sense the more he talked. “But you trusted your sister’s life to him?”

“Absolutely.”

The high fever ravaged his mind and his body. “You need to rest, or you’ll never regain your strength.” She urged him to lie down and tossed the blanket over him again. If he didn’t recover, she wouldn’t be able to get rid of him. If she couldn’t get rid of him, she’d end up smack dab in the middle of another disaster with no way to save herself.

Chapter Seven

Matt glared at the chipped ceiling and cursed himself for the thousandth time in the last few hours.

Returning from the store the afternoon before to find Tessa sound asleep, he’d watched the news, gazed at the snowfall from the latest storm, and studied Jason’s notes.

When the words blurred, he stretched out beside her, careful to leave plenty of room between them, and how was he rewarded? Cursed with her sweet body sprawled across him. Her arm wrapped around his waist, her leg settled perfectly between his, she set his blood aflame. Her soft curves molded to his body.

He had enough trouble trying not to think of her as a woman. After such torture, how was he supposed to put her out of his mind?

Sunlight streamed through the blinds, and dust particles danced on the beams. Matt leaned down to study Tessa’s face. A faint dusting of freckles covered the bridge of her nose. A little color had returned to her skin through the night, the anguish of her crazy world no longer contorting her delicate features.

At once, he forced his brain cells onto the cold snow outside, how frigid the temperature would be, and how uncomfortable he’d be lying in the snowdrifts.

Dammit.
That wasn’t working to cool his raging hard-on.

She needed a protector, not a lover. If he got any more involved, she’d expect more from him than he’d be willing to give. No woman had laid claim to his heart before. He had no intention of offering it. The sooner they found Jason and Matt beat the crap out of Walgren, the sooner he could return to his uncomplicated, solitary life.

But really, what did Tessa expect of him? She expected him to use his military training to keep her alive. She was a dance teacher, not a soldier. She’d pushed her fears aside and jumped into the fray. His sisters would have complained about the shabby motel room without recognizing the sacrifices he had made for them. Tessa hadn’t complained about anything, had even apologized for ruining his vacation. She worked with Matt a hundred percent of the time. Truth be told, he kind of liked that.

Tessa stirred, her breath flapping the fabric on his arm, her fingers fondling his abs.

Holy hell, if he didn’t get into heaven after lying next to her all night and keeping his hands to himself then nothing could save his soul.

Her eyes fluttered open. She tensed for a fraction of a second then bolted upright. And off him.

Matt wasn’t sure whether to be thankful or mourn the loss. “Morning,” he said, and yet the word felt wrong. Too formal for the closeness they’d shared through the night.

Cherry-red stained her cheeks. “I’m sorry for using you as my pillow.” She tucked a curl behind her ear.

“There are worse things in life.” He allowed one corner of his mouth to curve up.

Her gaze latched onto his. A sliver of gold weaved inside her emeralds. Her cheeks bloomed brighter as she moved away, her wild hair shielding her.

No, she wasn’t thinking about sleep any more than he was. The other side of his lips inched up. Man, she was adorable when she was embarrassed.

Still, he refused to toy with her emotions for his own amusement. She was too good a woman.

Matt got off the bed and started for the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Tessa set her feet on the floor. A whirlwind of emotion strode through her chest, her soul, yet numbness claimed her head. Forty-eight hours before, she had been getting ready for errands and work. This morning she was holed up in a cheap motel with a fugitive. And she’d woken up practically on top of him.
Good grief!
Not that it wasn’t glorious to have a man’s hard body to snuggle against, especially Matt’s. Indeed, she hadn’t wanted to let go. What would it be like to wake up to him every morning? What would she be willing to sacrifice to find out?

Absolutely nothing. It had been a long six months since she ended her last relationship after it started getting too intense, but she wasn’t in the market for a relationship with Matt. She didn’t need him. She just craved the physical comfort his body could provide.

Her brain had to mull over their survival instead of the whirl of emotions Matt’s constant presence evoked. What could she do to get them out of their current mess?

Through the walls, she could hear the water running as it probably slid along the contours of his abdominal muscles and his hard-packed thighs.

She shook the erotic images from her brain. With a deep breath in, she set her arms out in a yoga pose. “Jason, think of Jason,” she whispered as her mantra.

Back to business. She hit the power button on the TV to catch the latest news on them and dug into one of the brown paper bags piled on the table. The heating pipes popped and crackled, and warm air hissed out of the vents again.

The clack-clacking of plastic wheels rolled over cement outside. A shadow moved by the window, hovered by their door.

Tessa swore softly. Her body tensing, she dropped the package of doughnuts she’d grabbed.

Metal jingled outside. Water still sprayed out of the showerhead in the bathroom behind her.

She’d have to defend Matt, and protect herself. Where was that gun he’d made her practice with? She scanned the room for the duffel bag. If it wasn’t on one of the tables, it would be in there. Would she remember how to use it?

The person outside raised an arm, then cupped both hands on the glass, maybe trying to peer in past the blinds?

Tessa rushed to the bag. She knelt down and fished through it. Within seconds, she pulled one of the weapons free.

A light knock jolted her.

Tessa peered at the entrance. Harnessing all her courage, she stood and tiptoed to the door. She trembled with the weight responsibility.

Another knock.

She inched closer.

The handle rattled.

Panic sucked her breath away. She peered at the bathroom. Shower still going. Crap. She really was on her own.

She could be strong enough to do what she had to in order to keep Matt and her safe. On her tiptoes, she peeked out the peephole to see a short, round woman with a maid’s uniform and an overly burdened cart.

Tessa pressed her back against the door. “Come later, please!”

“Sorry!” came the muffled voice. Wheels rumbled again as the lady moved away.

Tessa’s knees threatened to give way beneath her. “Relax, relax,” she whispered.

“Tess?” Matt rushed out of the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel, and froze. His gaze settled on the gun she held. “What’s wrong?” Steel laced his voice.

The sight of him, so thick with muscle, so worried for her, calmed her. And stirred to life every ounce of femininity buried deep within her.

She dropped to her knees before the duffel bag. “Nothing. It’s okay.” Reverently, she replaced the gun and prayed she never had to pick it up again. “Housekeeping.”
Get a grip, Tessa
.

A thick, white scar covered a section of his pecs behind a smattering of dark brown hair.

Tessa swallowed. Had it come from that clash in Afghanistan he’d told her about, when he’d risked his life for those little girls trapped in one of the enemy’s houses? When he’d almost lost his battle to survive…. She braced her palm on the floor to steady herself.

“Tessa.” Quicker than a pirouette, he closed the distance between them, the white towel shifting position at his lean hips.

“Huh?” His face swam before her eyes. The clean, fresh scent of his skin invaded her senses, her pores, her mind.

What was wrong with her? So he was hot. Big deal. Hot guys were no longer allowed to hijack her brain function.

“Hey.” He grabbed her arms and guided her to her unstable feet.

She stared at his face. Only his face. The color of the stubble along his cheeks and chin was much lighter than she’d first thought, more of a caramel than the deep dark color of his hair.

“It’s okay. You’re all right.” The calloused pad of one thumb skimmed along her cheek.

Delicious warmth radiated from him and stole her breath.

“You did great. You did exactly what you needed to. I knew you could do it.” She witnessed hunger, swift and consuming, in his eyes.

Her chest tightened with anticipation. Would he kiss her again? Her lips parted while her palms flattened against his chest. The rough, masculine feel of his skin unleashed desire deep in her belly.

So easily Tessa could surrender to him and everything his touch, his words did to her. He challenged her to challenge herself. She craved him.

As he kissed her, sweet tingles washed through her.

The pressure of Matt’s tongue at the seam of her lips tugged away all coherent thought. Why not live for the moment and enjoy the torturous pleasure his body gave hers?

Her lips surrendered to him even as her hips gently toyed with his growing erection. Tessa shuddered with the feel of him in her mouth, between her legs. She shifted her legs apart to bring him closer to her core. Matt slid one hand to her bottom and lifted her nearer. His hips rocked slowly into her and weakened her knees. She traced the scars on his chest, but Matt cupped her breasts and her arms collapsed to her sides.

While his mouth made love to hers, he taunted and teased her nipples into tightened buds. Delicious swirls of tension swarmed away from his fingertips, through her and straight into her core.

She arched into his touch, needing to explore all the sensations his body promised her.

Promised. Promises.

Tessa stilled. “Stop.”

Instantly, he released her. “What’s wrong?”

“Jason’s out there somewhere. We have to help him. This,” she motioned between them, “doesn’t help.” It only stole her common sense and she’d vowed never to surrender again to another man so completely, even one whose body felt so right entwined with hers. That decision had never been challenged before.

“You’re right.” Matt scrubbed his hands over his face. “Give me a few minutes to finish up in the bathroom, and then you can get in there. We’ll head out as soon as you’re ready.”

“Where to?”

“Somewhere we can see what’s on Jason’s CD and do some more research on all the people we’re sure are involved, so far.”

****

Matt returned to the bathroom and set his palms on the edge of the counter. He needed to start thinking with the correct head. Tessa had been right to stop them, but releasing her had been one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. The way she melted against him, all soft curves and eagerness to explore the bond they’d created between them. If she hadn’t stopped them, he was sure he would’ve taken her to bed. He simply didn’t have the strength to resist her.

But he didn’t bond and he respected Tessa too much to pretend he did.

“She’s not your type, remember?” he mumbled to his reflection in the mirror. She was meant for romance, marriage, kids, and grandkids. He, by contrast, engaged in casual relationships for as long as they were beneficial. He wasn’t in the market for a family of his own. After the disaster of the Rylan clan and the horrendous responsibility he’d been slammed with while still a boy, he knew he wanted to be alone. He deserved to be free.

Yet the memory of how she pushed her soft curves into him as her body begged for his touch threatened to break him apart. And no longer did helping Tessa feel like a burden. She expected his best effort, but she was not afraid to toss her own two cents into the discussion. Tessa’s willingness to rise to the challenges being thrown at her made him
want
to do whatever he could for her. She was beautiful and trusting and so good for his battered soul.

Damn.

A buttload of “what ifs” and “but, waits” still stewed within him, but Matt didn’t have time to evaluate them. Nor did he want to. He and Tessa had too much work to do to help Jason. Hell, to help themselves even. He finished dressing and emerged from the bathroom.

Tessa faced the window.

“I’m done,” he said.

She pinched one of her earlobes as she twirled to face him.

Uh-oh.
He’d seen her do that a few times, usually right before an argument. She pinched the other earlobe.

He cringed. “What’re you thinking?”

“I have another suggestion.”

“I’m listening.” He folded his arms across his chest. So help him if she brought up contacting Whittaker again.

“Let me call Internal Affairs.”

“No.”

“Matt, the department specializes in dealing with crooked cops.”

“Yes, and they think you’ve been kidnapped and I’m a criminal.” He shook his head. “It’s not a good idea, not until we have more solid evidence.” Not a good idea? Try insane. The walls closed around him. Energy pulsed through his body, itched beneath his skin.

Tessa grabbed his arm. “My point is,” she began softly, “if I can convince IA you’re not at fault, it could be your ticket back to your own life.”