Authors: E C Sheedy

One Tough Cookie (26 page)

“No joke. Book a flight. Laine Derek will have you picked up and taken straight to Derek’s home in Mayfair. Security knows you’re coming in as a guest. And it’s best you stay clear of Laine. She’ll ask questions. The woman is a tiger when it comes to her father’s security.”

“No problem. I prefer my tigers in my gas tank—or better yet, my bed.”

“Funny.”

“I take it she doesn’t know what her father does when he isn’t making billions for Derek Industries.”

“No. And it’s your job to keep it that way.”

Jesus! He tossed a wad of hundreds on the ‘counted’ side of the bed, and ran a hand through his wet, tangled hair.

He’d been with Raven Force for eight years, run ops from the seething East-bloc to war-infested Africa, but he’d never received an assassination order before. Abort mega weapons deals and kill the bad guys, sure... and get their money—that was the best part. But terminate the man who masterminded Raven Force? A man whose brilliant, Byzantine plots had saved thousands of lives—and taken down dozens of murdering warlords?

This order had to be bullshit. Had to be. “You sure about this, Holister?”

Tanner heard a hard breath come down the line. “He specifically asked for you—says you ‘don’t blink.’ So get your ass to London ASAP.” Pause. “And clean up before arrival, okay? Suit. Tie. The works. The Dereks don’t do casual.”

“Oh goody, a shopping spree.”

Holister ignored the joke. “And remember this is what Derek wants. This is his plan. And whatever that man wants, he gets.”

“Even to choosing his own time and place to die.” Tanner rubbed his jumpy gut.

Silence, a full five seconds of it, then a hard exhale. “Yeah, even that.”

Tanner took just as long to answer. “Shit,” he said, because there was nothing else to say. But a lot to think about. Like why in hell Derek asked for him. You owe the man, Cross, maybe this is his way of calling in the debt. And like it or not, this was an order.

When Holister hung up, Tanner stared at the phone, working to get his thoughts in a line that made sense.

He didn’t know what was worse, being ordered to kill Joe Derek, or seeing Laine again.

He picked up his beer from the floor beside the bed and took a long pull. Hell, chances were good she wouldn’t even remember him.

Meet EC Sheedy

EC Sheedy, who writes as Carole Dean, lives in British Columbia. She is an island dweller—and loves it. Every morning she wakes to the ever changing sounds and colors of the ocean outside her window. Whatever its mood, summer calm or winter storm, she finds it the perfect background for writing romance. She lives with her husband of many years and a Rhodesian Ridgeback who has convinced them both he is a person in dog's clothing.

You can visit EC Sheedy at www.ecsheedy.com.

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