He shook his head. “Come on. I’ll take you back.”
Excitement pulsed through her. Could it really be this easy? He was offering to take her to where Gonzalez was holding her sister. She took a slow, deep breath, trying to remain calm. “All right, I guess. This place is boring anyway. You’ll have to drive though. This tequila’s already gone straight to my head.”
He gave her a quizzical look. “Drive?”
Shoot. What had she done? She was being too specific, which could ruin everything since she didn’t have a clue where Gonzalez’s compound was. Why would he balk at the word
drive?
Was the compound so close they could walk there? Or was it so far away they would have to fly, or take a boat? She wasn’t sure what to say.
The transmitter crackled in her ear. “Play up how much you drank. He’s getting suspicious.”
She grinned and lifted her drink again. “What? You don’t think I could do it? Drive to the compound?” She giggled, trying to make him think she thought the idea was ridiculous, too.
“You really are wasted.” He pulled the drink away from her and shoved it out of her reach. “Come on. My boat’s out back. I’ll try to sneak you into the compound before all hell breaks loose.”
“Okay, walk outside with him but stay close to the restaurant,” Nick’s voice whispered in her ear. “Try to get him to tell you where the compound is. If he doesn’t, ditch him and go back inside to wait for Gonzalez.”
She slid off the bar stool. She immediately had to clutch the table for support when her feet wobbled in her outrageously unstable stilettos.
The man with her cursed and grabbed her arm, steadying her. He obviously thought she was too drunk to walk, because he held her close and guided her out of the bar.
“We’re with you,” Nick’s voice whispered. “But you’re too close to him. Put some distance between the two of you. And under no circumstances are you to get anywhere near his boat. Make an excuse. Say you have to go to the bathroom, whatever it takes. We’ll follow his boat when he leaves and see where he goes. With any luck, that will give us the location of the compound where Lily is. Now back away. You’re still too close.”
With any luck? Meaning if she didn’t get on the boat, this might all be for nothing and they might not find Lily? Heather frowned, but did as Nick had told her. She pulled away from the man beside her.
“I can walk,” she said, slurring her words again. “Just lead the way. Um, where are we going again?” She threw the last part in, hoping he’d say the name of the island where the compound was, if indeed it was on another island, which she assumed because of him saying they would take his boat to get there.
“To the compound,” he said.
Her hopes plummeted as the boats sitting at the dock came into view. If she couldn’t get him to give her the location, she’d gained nothing. What if they lost him once he took the boat out? What if Gonzalez didn’t show, and this was her only shot?
“I know, I know,” she said, forcing another giggle. “But where is that again? I can’t seem to keep it straight in my head.” She tapped her temple and wobbled on her heels, this time on purpose.
He ignored her question.
“Go back to the restaurant,” Nick hissed in her ear.
Heather kept walking.
When they reached the stranger’s boat, he held out his hand to help her. “Come on.”
She should have backed away. She should have told him she had to go to the ladies’ room as Nick had suggested. But she hesitated. This man knew where Lily was.
“Why are you still standing there?” Nick whispered. “Go back inside the restaurant.”
“Hurry up,” the stranger said, waving his hand for her to step over the side of the boat. “I’m telling you, if Gonzalez figures out you managed to leave without him knowing, it’s not just you who’s in trouble. It’s me and the other guys who are supposed to be guarding the place.”
“Don’t you dare,” Nick’s furious voice whispered in her ear, as if he’d just realized she was seriously considering getting into the boat. “Get out of there,” he demanded.
She glanced down at the man’s hand in front of her. If she stepped into that boat, she’d see her sister again. Or would she? What if this was a trick? But if she didn’t, she was back at the beginning, no closer to finding her twin than she’d been on day one. How much more time did Lily have if she wasn’t rescued? A week? A day? An hour?
“Heather.” Nick’s voice was a low growl. “Condition number two.”
She stiffened her spine. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I have to do this.”
“What?” The man’s brows lowered in confusion.
“Nothing.” She smiled and took his hand.
Nick cursed in her ear. He sounded out of breath, as if he was on the move.
Heather stepped over the side of the boat, and all hell broke loose.
Chapter Eleven
The hand holding Heather’s went slack. The man in front of her crumpled to the floor of the boat. Behind him stood the man Dante had shown her a picture of earlier, to make sure she’d recognize him.
Gonzalez.
In his hand was the gun he’d used like a hammer to knock the other man unconscious.
Heather stood frozen, staring into the eyes of the man who’d taken her sister. Gonzalez started to raise his gun. A man suddenly lunged from the shadows beside the boat and launched himself at Gonzalez, slamming into him, propelling both of them over the side and into the water. The splash sent up a plume of water that would have drenched Heather if someone hadn’t grabbed her and pulled her back.
Like ants pouring out of an anthill, a dozen DEA agents converged onto the docks from their hiding places behind bushes, boats and even the cars parked near the dock. Two agents standing at the water’s edge discarded their jackets and guns and jumped into the water where Gonzalez and the other man had disappeared.
“Miss Bannon, this way, please.” The man who’d pulled Heather out of the boat tugged her backward. The big white
DEA
letters on his jacket reassured Heather that he really was an agent and wasn’t one of Gonzalez’s men, but the fact that he wasn’t Nick had her stomach clenching with dread. Where was Nick? Had something happened to him? She replayed the last few moments in her memory.
The man who’d taken her to the boat crumpling to the floor.
Gonzalez standing behind him with a gun in his hand.
Another man launching himself at Gonzalez.
A very familiar-looking man.
Heather’s gaze flew back to the boat and the crowd of men standing there.
“Please tell me that wasn’t Agent Nick Morgan who went into the water with Gonzalez.”
“Well, yes, ma’am, it was.”
She tugged out of the man’s grasp and ran toward the water’s edge. Or at least, that was her plan. She’d only gone about five feet when her right heel wobbled, she lost her balance and she went sprawling onto the asphalt.
Her mind had just enough time to register that her miniskirt was hiked up around her hips before someone hauled her to her feet and tugged her skirt back into place. From the sounds of the cursing in her ear, she knew exactly who’d come to her rescue this time.
Nick.
She was so relieved that he was okay that she didn’t even care that he was yelling at her in front of everyone for being so stupid and foolishly risking her life. And she didn’t care that he was dripping wet. All she cared about was that he wasn’t dead.
She threw her arms around his waist and held him tight. “Thank God you’re okay.”
He stiffened and grabbed her arms, forcing her back. He grabbed one of the agents nearby. “Higgins, get Miss Bannon back to the hotel. Take another agent with you and try to keep her from causing any more trouble until I get back.”
“Yes, sir.” Higgins motioned another agent over. “Miss Bannon, come with us, please.”
Without another word, Nick stalked off and joined the group of men surrounding a very wet, very angry-looking Gonzalez, who’d been fished out of the water.
Heather wanted to jump into the water herself, or maybe throw one of those DEA flak jackets over her head, anything to shut herself away from the other agents giving her curious looks. They’d seen her hugging Nick. And they’d seen him push her away. He’d treated her like a stranger and spoke to her as if she were a recalcitrant child. Perhaps if she were a child, or a stranger, he’d at least have asked if she was okay. Instead, he’d been too busy putting as much distance between them as he could, as quickly as he could.
As if she didn’t even matter.
“Miss Bannon?” Higgins gave her a quizzical look. “Are you okay?”
His kind question and gentle voice had her tearing up. Why couldn’t Nick have shown some compassion, an ounce of caring, instead of being so disgusted with her? She didn’t have cocaine in her hair this time, but he’d still treated her as if she had the plague.
In front of everyone.
She gave Higgins a tight smile. “I’m fine. I’m ready to go. Thank you.”
He nodded and led her toward a waiting car. She kept her head up, her back straight, refusing to let Nick have the satisfaction of thinking his treatment of her mattered. It was all her fault, really. She’d forgotten about condition number one. The words Nick had said to her at the police station couldn’t have been more clear when he’d listed his first condition for agreeing to help her.
We’re through, finished. There is no “us” anymore. And there never will be.
She’d been in total agreement at the time, right after she’d gotten out of jail. She’d wanted nothing to do with him, either. But just being near him the past few days had reminded her how much she was attracted to him, how much she admired him for the work he did, how much he cared about helping other people. Seeing the lighter side of him with his brother and sister-in-law at the tattoo parlor had reminded her how warm and loving he could be, a side of him she’d enjoyed so much when they first met, but which she’d seen so little of in the past few days.
How could she have allowed herself to fall for him again only to be rejected again? He didn’t want her. He didn’t care about her. All he cared about was his job and appearances.
She wouldn’t forget again.
* * *
T
HE
SOUND
OF
voices woke Heather. She bolted up in bed, blinking to focus in the dimly lit hotel room as she clutched the covers to her chest. Her pulse was pounding so hard she could hear it echoing in her ears.
The low murmur of a deep male voice sounded again, and Heather slumped with relief. Nick. He was in the main room of their hotel suite, talking to the two agents guarding her. A few moments later, she heard the sound of a door closing. The other agents must have left.
She glanced at the bedside clock. Two in the morning. Good grief. What had Nick been doing out this late? Had he helped interview Gonzalez? That thought had her fully awake. If he’d spoken to Gonzalez, he might know where her sister was. The DEA could be on their way right now to rescue her. She fervently hoped so.
She shoved the covers back and hopped out of bed right as her bedroom door flew open. She gasped and pressed her hand to her throat before her mind registered that it was Nick standing in the doorway.
She drew in a shaky breath. “You scared me.” She lowered her hand to her side, grateful the only light in the room was from the moonlight filtering in through the blinds. She was only wearing a T-shirt and panties, and after Nick’s treatment of her back at the dock had reminded her about condition number one, she wasn’t exactly comfortable parading around in her underwear.
“Did you find out anything from Gonzalez? Do you know where my sister is?” She reached for the light blanket at the foot of the bed to wrap around herself.
Nick stalked toward the bed, stopping just short of touching her. The tightness of his jaw and the way his eyes narrowed dangerously had Heather’s survival instincts screaming at her to run. She resisted the cowardly urge because she knew Nick would never hurt her—not physically, anyway—and her pride had taken too much of a beating already tonight. She wasn’t about to let him bully her.
He leaned down toward her, obviously trying to use his size and strength to intimidate her.
It was working.
“What were you thinking?” he bit out, his voice a tight rasp. He grabbed her arms and lightly shook her. “What were you thinking when you stepped onto that boat?”
His shaking her and talking to her in that condescending, sarcastic tone was the proverbial last straw. She was through with his conditions, through with him bullying her, through with him ordering her around. She picked up her feet and dropped right out of his arms. She twisted and threw all her weight at the back of his knees.
He crashed to the floor like a rock.
Heather crouched beside him, ready to lecture him on manners, but the sight of big, tough Nick lying flat on his back, blinking up at her with such a look of astonishment on his face, tugged at her funny bone. A giggle burst between her lips.
Nick’s eyes narrowed in warning.
Another giggle escaped. Heather clasped her hand over her mouth, but it was hopeless. She started laughing so hard tears streamed down her face.
“Oh, oh, my gosh.” She wiped her tears. “The look on your face when you...” She laughed again, so hard her stomach hurt. She clutched at her middle, drawing big gasping breaths between laughs.
Nick grabbed her and suddenly
she
was the one flat on her back. He covered her body with his. “Stop laughing,” he growled.
“I’m...trying,” she wheezed between giggles. The memory of his shocked look triggered another round of laughter.
Suddenly his mouth was on hers. The crazy man must have thought he could stop her laughter by kissing her.
He was right.
The feel of his lips molding hers stopped her midgiggle, and suddenly all she wanted to do was kiss him back. She poured every ounce of frustration, hunger, even anger into that kiss. She wanted him, desperately, had wanted him for so long. And even though she knew it was probably a mistake, that she’d hate herself for it later, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, letting him know in every way she could that she wanted this.
He responded to her surrender like a starving man at a banquet. He peppered her with kisses, ran his tongue across her skin, suckled her until she cried out with pleasure. In a whisper of cloth her shirt was gone. A quick tug and her panties disappeared, too. Nick pushed himself off her for the briefest of moments as he tugged off his clothes. And then he was back, his naked skin heating hers, the light matting of hair on his chest scraping across her breasts, his arousal prodding her belly.
She shivered with wanting, longing for him to hurry and make her his. She couldn’t bear the pleasure-pain of his wandering hands and sweltering kisses much longer.
“Nick, please...” she breathed against his neck.
Her urgency was matched by his. He pressed another quick kiss against her lips, then pulled back.
“Give me a minute. I’ll be right back.”
Suddenly, he was gone, leaving her lying there, wondering why he’d run out of the room. But then he was back, and at the sound of a foil packet tearing open, her face turned warm. He was putting on a condom.
And then he was lifting and carrying her to the bed. He pushed her back against the mattress, doing sinful things to her neck, making her want him even more than she ever thought possible.
He suddenly grabbed her hips and pushed himself inside her in a long, deep stroke.
She cried out from the pleasure washing through her. Nick rasped her name and began to move again, building the tension inside her, higher and higher. He praised her, telling her how beautiful she was, how much he wanted her, as he stretched and filled her, bringing her closer and closer to the peak.
When she thought she was about to explode from the pleasure, he slowed his strokes and leaned down and kissed her again. He feathered his hands across her hypersensitive skin, learning every curve. Whenever he found a particularly sensitive spot, and her breath caught, he would pause and lavish her with more attention, as if to wring out every ounce of pleasure he could.
He shuddered, and Heather knew he was close. He kissed her again, then reached down between them, stroking her with his fingers as he thrust harder and faster into her. Heather drew her knees up, shouting his name as her climax washed over her, exploding through her body in a wave of pleasure so intense tears ran down her face.
Nick pushed fully into her, filling her, saying her name as he stiffened against her in his own climax. He shuddered again, collapsing on top of her for the barest of moments, then rolling to the side with her clasped tightly in his arms, as if reluctant to let her go.
As they lay together on the bed, their chests heaving from exertion, his hands stroking her bare back, she realized she’d never felt so complete as when she was in his arms. He couldn’t have made love to her the way he had if he didn’t care about her. He’d only yelled at her on the docks because he was worried about her. She knew that now.
She fell asleep with a smile on her face.
* * *
H
EATHER
’
S
DEEP
,
EVEN
breathing told Nick she’d fallen asleep.
He continued to hold her and stroke the velvet-soft skin on her back. As his own skin cooled and the blood began pumping to his brain again, he realized what a terrible mistake he’d just made, in so many ways.
When he’d opened the door to her room, he hadn’t meant to go on the offensive. He’d planned their conversation on the drive back from DEA headquarters. He was going to sit her down and calmly remind her how dangerous this mission was. He was going to remind her they’d had to be extra careful because her barely there outfit wouldn’t allow her to wear a bullet-resistant vest. He was going to remind her how crucial condition two was, that he’d set that condition out of concern for her safety, not because he wanted to boss her around.
But then he’d stepped into their hotel suite and had relived every agonizing moment of the encounter with Gonzalez as he briefed the two agents protecting Heather. He was furious with himself for agreeing to a plan that had put her in danger. A week ago, he wouldn’t have even considered it. But after being with Heather these past few days, after seeing how deeply she cared about her sister, he’d realized she would be devastated if Lily died, and she’d never forgive him if he hadn’t done everything he could to save her. He’d selfishly allowed his emotions to rule his head and had gone along with a far too dangerous plan.
Remembering Heather’s blatant disregard for her own safety, how she’d been only a few feet from that sick, twisted psychopath, how he’d had a gun in his hand and could have easily killed her, all of that had his nerves stretched taut. When the agents stepped out of the suite, he’d been on the edge of desperation to assure himself that Heather was okay. He’d run to her room and had thrown the door open.