Men of Danger, Page 5

  “Thanks, Will,” Rick was saying. “Could you let me know what you find, as well?”

  “Sure thing. I’d suggest you get her out of here for a while. Get the doors fixed and install some additional security.”

  Hannah shook her head. She wasn’t going anywhere.

  “She’ll be at my place,” Rick stated.

  “No.” She tried to inject a mea sure of strength in her voice, but she heard it shake, heard the tremor in it herself.

  “Like hell.” Rick’s tone was gentle but firm. “You can’t stay here, Hannah, and you know it. You can come back tomorrow, do what you have to do. Tonight, you can stay at my place.”

  She didn’t want to leave.

  “I have to clean . . .” She could feel the tears building in her voice.

  She wanted to wipe away the embarrassment. She needed to hide her personal items, needed to get them out of sight.

  “It can wait until tomorrow.” His voice lowered. “The police officers will secure the doors for tonight and tomorrow I can come over with you and replace the doors.”

  “But . . .”

  “No buts. It can wait till tomorrow.”

  She felt like a child, uncertain, frightened. She couldn’t believe someone had done this to her. She couldn’t understand why they would want to.

  She let Rick draw her away from the bedroom, her eyes going once again to the toys that were laid out for the world to see.

  “This is so humiliating,” she whispered as they left the house, his hand at her back as he led her down the steps. “Why would anyone do that?”

  She wrapped her arms around herself, staring at the crowd outside her home, wondering how many of them knew what her room displayed. There were no secrets on a street with neighbors like hers. They were good people, kind, caring, and nosy as hell.

  Everyone probably knew she had toys and were speculating about them. Poor Miss Brookes. She couldn’t get a man so she bought toys instead.

  Shame flooded her face once again.

  And who would call her a whore? She had toys for a reason. She hadn’t even had a date in forever, let alone actual sex. Tonight was the closest she had come in years.

  “Come on.” Rick bundled her back into the truck before loping to the driver’s side and stepping in. Slamming the door behind him, he was pulling from the street within seconds and reaching across the console to grip her hand with his. “It’s going to be okay, Hannah.”

  She rubbed at her forehead with her free hand before staring out the window in confusion.

  “It doesn’t make sense,” she said again. “Why do that?” She turned to stare at him, unable to comprehend the reason behind such maliciousness.

  “We’ll find out why,” he stated, and she actually believed he might do it. He seemed more angry than she was. Anger hadn’t hit her yet, though. She was still in shock, uncertain and confused.

  Rick continued to stare out the windshield, glaring into the night. He had a feeling that what had happened tonight had nothing to do with Hannah, and everything to do with him.

  He should have stayed away from her last summer. Some instinct had warned him last summer that he was making a mistake. What if those two dates, seemingly innocent and going nowhere, had made her a target because of him?

  “We’ll figure it out, Hannah,” he promised her, feeling her hand tremble beneath his as he drove through the night to his ranch. “Until we do, I promise you’ll be safe.”

  He couldn’t let anything happen to her. Sienna had done enough to destroy his life; he wasn’t going to allow her ghost to finish him off.

  Making the turn up the paved road to his home several miles from the main road, he kept his gaze roving through the night, searching for anomalies, or anything out of the ordinary.

  He knew his home like the back of his hand. For several months after the militia had been disbanded he’d had a few problems on the ranch. Cattle that were killed senselessly, a few attempted break-ins, nothing serious. Harassments, little else.

  This wasn’t harassment. He would consider this war, and he would let the few remaining members of the terrorist group who hadn’t been arrested know it. Hannah wasn’t going to be a target for their revenge.

  “Here we are.” Using the automatic garage door opener, he pulled the truck inside and turned it off. Closing the doors from the control inside the truck, he opened his door and stepped out quickly to open Hannah’s.

  She already had her door open. Gripping her waist he helped her from the truck, realizing how small she was, how delicate, as he set her on her feet before him.

  He deactivated his alarm with the control on his key ring before opening the door and leading her into the kitchen.

  His security system was more advanced than most, installed by a team of agents so deep cover that most in the government didn’t know they existed. The men who had helped round up the militia two years before; one of them was still a resident of Alpine and married to the wife he’d had before his “death.”

  That one still amazed him.

  “Come on, I’ll get you something to wear and you can take a hot shower.” Gripping her hand he led her to his bedroom. “I’ll fix you some hot chocolate or something. That always helps Kent sleep.”

  Thank God he’d relented and allowed Mona to take his son camping with her. If someone was targeting him over the destruction of the militia two years before, then he didn’t want his son involved in it.

  “Rick, you don’t have to do this,” she protested as they entered the bedroom.

  At least he’d thought to make the bed this morning. The bedroom was in fairly good shape. There was dust on the furniture, the wood floors a little dull. He’d stacked his clothes on the dresser rather than putting them away after Mona had returned them to him.

  He didn’t always have time to clean house.

  Moving to the stack of clothes, he removed a t-shirt and brought it back to her.

  “This should be long enough for you.” His lips twitched with humor as he surveyed her. “You’re a short little thing, aren’t you?”

  For a second the fear evaporated from her eyes, to be replaced by a narrow-eyed warning.

  “No short jokes, please,” she ordered him with what he imagined was her “teacher voice.”

  “I wasn’t joking,” he assured her. “I was simply making an observation. You’re cute, though.”

  If anything, that steely glint in her eyes got brighter.

  “Great, I’m cute,” she muttered. “Puppies are cute. Squirrels are cute.”

  “You’re cuter?” He almost grinned as the pouty curve of her lip tightened.

  She had to look up at him. If he wanted to kiss her without straining his neck, then he’d have to grip the curves of her ass and lift her to him. He liked doing that. He liked the delicacy and feminine allure of her stature.

  “I’m not cute,” she bit out, obviously put out by the description. “Now where’s the bathroom? I need that shower.”

  He hid a grin as he turned and led her to the bathroom door. “You can take a nice, long Jacuzzi bath or a hot shower,” he said. “I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re done.”

  He left her alone, closed the door behind him, and blew out a breath.

  Hell, he wished he could stay. He’d like to sink into that big bathtub with her and wash her from head to toe. Or take her in the shower, watch the water stream around her as he lifted her to him and took her against the wall.

  He could feel beads of sweat popping out on his forehead at the thought. His cock pounded in approval. The blood rushed through his veins in excitement.

  So the night hadn’t ended as he had envisioned, but he could work with this. Before the night was out, he might even have her in his bed. That was even better.

  He could handle that. For one night, he assured himself. Just one night. One morning. To awaken beside a woman that wanted him. To greet the day with pleasure rather than an empty bed. A soft, passionate woman rather tha
n the memory of the dreams that haunted him at night.

  One night. That was it. Then things would go back to normal. Whether he wanted them to or not.

  CHAPTER 5

  HE SHOULD HAVE known better than to put that sexy, rounded little body in one of his T-shirts. He had quite a height advantage at six three, since she was barely five feet four. The T-shirt, he’d imagined, would fall nearly to her knees.

  There were things he hadn’t taken into account. Full, rounded breasts that lifted the shirt several inches, as it fell over the pert flesh and revealed the hardened points of tight little nipples beneath the loose fabric. Rounded hips that gave the material new shape and form, and gorgeous lightly tanned legs that he was damned sure would fit perfectly around his lower back if he was stretched between them.

  The sensual vision that emerged from his bedroom an hour later was properly covered, no question. The shirt reached below her thighs, not quite to her knees. Totally respectable. It covered more than some of the short dresses he’d seen other women wearing in town.

  But there was this line, almost invisible, between totally respectable and lushly sensual. Hannah was lushly sensual and she gave a whole new look to the dark T-shirt that he knew he would never wear again without a hard-on from the very thought of how she looked in it now.

  “I need to get back to the house in the morning,” she was saying as she pulled on another of his shirts, obviously one she had confiscated from his closet.

  The long-sleeved, button-front black shirt hung on her like a loose robe, but still, it did nothing to hide the lush little body beneath.

  “I’m off duty the next few days.” He managed to force the words past his lips. “I’ll take you myself.”

  She pushed her fingers through her hair and went over to the bar, lifting herself to the stool across from him and finally meeting his gaze.

  “That was so humiliating.” She sighed. “I bet everyone on that street knows exactly what was done. Length, width, and color of each toy I owned are probably being discussed and gossiped over as we speak.”

  His thighs tightened at the thought of the toys and their various uses. Hell, he couldn’t get the image of it out of his mind. Hannah spread out on the light lavender print of the quilt that covered her bed, her head thrown back, legs spread as she fucked herself with that dildo.

  Sweat popped out on his brow. His cock thickened to the point that he was in agony.

  “They’ll find something else to gossip over tomorrow.” He cleared his throat as he checked the coffeepot out of sheer desperation to see if the coffee had finished.

  Pouring both of them a cup, he placed hers in front of her along with a spoon before pushing the sugar and creamer toward her.

  “Thanks.” Her smile was a little absent as she fixed her coffee to taste.

  He sipped at his, barely tasting it as that image teased at his mind again.

  “Why would anyone want to just embarrass me?” She stirred her coffee before glancing up at him again. “Kindergarten teachers don’t exactly make enemies, you know. I could understand it if it were the high school. I mean, teenagers can be mischievous, but kindergarteners? When was the last time you heard of a five-year-old with the ability to do what was done tonight?”

  “Their parents perhaps?” He knew better, just as she did.

  She stared back at him knowingly. “Last summer, my car was egged just after that last date we had,” she said. “Little things happened that I brushed off as pranks by the local kids. They get a little bored sometimes.”

  He sipped his coffee as he watched her broodingly.

  “Now, it’s escalated,” she pointed out.

  “What else happened last year?” He put down his coffee and watched her intently. “And why didn’t you report it?”

  “As I said, I assumed it was the work of some bored teenagers. I never imagined anyone could actually want to frighten me. A car with egg on it, flowers unearthed from my garden, along the fence in the back. It was just little things.” She watched him closely. “This is because of you, isn’t it? Someone is trying to hurt you and they’re using me to do it.”

  She was smart, he had to give her credit for that, and suspicious. Just as suspicious as he was.

  “You didn’t tell Detective Dickerson about those events,” he stated. “Why not?”

  She looked down at the countertop as her nail rubbed against it for a long moment, before lifting her head.

  “I wanted to talk to you first. After what happened with Sienna’s brother tonight, I’ve pretty much pieced most of it together. I’d just like to know why.”

  How was he supposed to answer that one? Oh, sorry, Hannah baby, I think someone knows I blew my wife’s fucking head off when she tried to kill her best friend. She was a cocaine junkie and a killer.

  Yeah, he could see that one going over really well.

  “I’m not sure why,” he finally answered instead. “But I’ll find out.”

  He was lying to her. Hannah could feel it, she swore she could see the darkening of his eyes when he spoke, the betraying little tic of a muscle at his jaw.

  Why would he lie to her?

  “What happened when Sienna was kidnapped, Rick?” she asked instead. “The president of one of our largest banks, our mayor, your deputy, Galen Patrick— one of our biggest land owners— and a U.S. Marshal were killed that night along with Sienna. Some people say she was involved with them.”

  She had never been one to beat around the bush, and she wasn’t going to now. She had a pretty good feeling that tonight was going to end with her in his bed. She at least wanted to know what she was getting herself into.

  “I don’t know what she was involved in, Hannah,” he stated as he turned from her to refill his coffee cup. “She was kidnapped together with Sabella Malone. When the smoke cleared from the rescue attempt, Sienna was dead and a lot of men that everyone trusted were implicated.”

  “That was a perfect nonanswer if I’ve ever heard one,” she told him, realizing he wasn’t going to tell her anything. She pretty much had it figured out, though.

  Rick had been a part of that rescue attempt. Knowing him, he would have gone after his wife and her friend first. And everyone knew Sienna and Mike Conrad were a little too close. Rumors had been swirling about her and her flings for years; she was just surprised that Rick hadn’t suspected.

  Or had he?

  “Does it matter what she was involved in?” he asked her then. “Does that have anything to do with us?”

  She shook her head slowly. “If there was an ‘us,’ then it wouldn’t have anything to do with it.”

  “Oh, there’s definitely an ‘us,’” he growled as he moved around his bar, his expression shifting from emotionless to lusty in a heartbeat.

  Savage features were suddenly stark with the hunger that exploded in the air around them. Hannah stared at him in fascination as he swung the bar seat on its swivel base until he could push between her thighs.

  That easy. She was too easy, she thought distantly as his hand curved around her neck to hold her head in place as he lowered his head. She should protest somehow. She should do something except part her lips and consume him like chocolate.

  She couldn’t help it. He tasted of rich, dark coffee and hungry male. It was an aphrodisiac she didn’t want to resist. A drug like this could entrance every woman in the world and create addicts in no time.

  Pleasure suffused her from head to toe, wrapping along her nerve endings, as her arms lifted and curled around his neck, pulling him close to her.

  He held her tightly for long seconds before pulling back, and lifting her against him, his lips never leaving hers.

  His kisses were dizzying, intoxicating. She felt as though she were flying, twirling, in time and space as his head slanted and he deepened the kiss.

  Her rear met what she assumed was the top of the small island counter, allowing her to press herself tighter to him. His hips were wedged between her thighs, his coc
k, a hard thick wedge beneath his jeans, was pressed against the mound of her pussy, rubbing the material of her pan ties against her clit.

  There wasn’t enough clothing between them to protect her against the sensations. She wondered if there could ever be. Because nothing had ever been this good, this hot. Sexual intensity built inside her, wound through her system and centered in her womb, as he ground his cock against her, his hands gripping her hips, holding her to him.

  Arcs of sizzling sensation raced through her bloodstream as she moaned into the kiss. She wanted more, needed more, and yet she wanted other things, as well. She wanted to taste more than his lips. She wanted to feel more than his hard erection through his jeans. She wanted to feel it hot and bare, sinking inside her, stroking her to ecstasy.

  Skin to skin. That was what she wanted. His flesh stroking against hers, inside her. His lips all over her body, her lips all over his. She wanted to eat him like candy.

  She licked at his lips and moaned at the rich male taste of his kiss. She felt him nip hers, and nearly whimpered at the incredible pleasure that whipped through her at the stinging caress. A second later he licked over the curve, sending another heated caress through her senses.

  She had always known that Rick Grayson could affect her this way. That knowledge had just been there, for as long as she could remember, tempting her fantasies and her hunger.

  “Damn, I love your taste,” he growled as his lips moved from hers to her jaw, her neck, while sliding the shirt she’d borrowed off her shoulders.

  “Taste me some more,” she panted, lowering her arms to push them free of the material.

  His hands gripped the hem of her T-shirt, lifted it, and he drew back, pulled it over her head.

  Oh God.

  She was all but naked in front of him now. Her breasts were rising and falling rapidly, her nipples pebble hard and so sensitive that even the cool air of the room was a caress to them.

  “Sweet Lord have mercy,” he whispered as his hands lifted, his palms cupping the round curves, his thumb raking over the hard tips slowly, his gaze darkening as he stared at the flushed contours of her breasts.