The Perfect Hostage (A Super Agent Novella) (Entangled Edge) (2 page)

Chapter Two

John Quick was hot.

So hot, in fact, Lucie nearly dropped the tray of punch-filled champagne glasses when he entered the great room without even knocking.

Lucie’s sister, Zara, all big belly and goofy smile, sat forward on the sofa and yelled, “John! You made it.”

A fire crackled in the large stone fireplace. Her father and Agent Saunders, the FBI agent who’d been so kind to Lucie and her sister after their ordeal with the terrorist, Alexandrov Dmitri, last year, stood in front of the fireplace discussing stock options and gold futures.

Zara’s mother sat on the sofa next to her daughter, the two of them surrounded by aunts, nieces, and cousins talking about strollers and applying for private schools.

Lucie, kept at arm’s length all day by everyone but Zara, had been passing out the nonalcoholic punch and holding back an eye roll. The baby wasn’t even born yet and the Morgan clan was in an uproar over which private school the kid would attend. Agent Saunders, sensing Lucie’s exasperation, had winked at her and grinned. He was good like that…making her feel at ease in uncomfortable situations. He’d rescued her from plenty of those after the kidnapping when she’d had to recount what happened over and over to various government agencies.

A good guy, just like John…the man she daydreamed about on an hourly basis now standing in the entryway, trailing in snow and staring straight at her.

Some of the women giggled behind their hands. Her father’s face fell. Regardless that John was a hero, her father didn’t like him. On the two occasions the men had spoken, John had refused to talk about his family, his education, or his job history—the very cornerstones of the Morgan family. Everything her father held dear. From that point on, he’d made no secret that he thought John was using Lucie to get to the Morgan money.

John didn’t seem to care what anyone thought. He wore camouflage pants, a knit hat with a hole in it, and cowboy boots. His jaw was covered with a couple days’ worth of stubble, his long hair peeked out from the hat, and he was carrying a six-pack of beer with a red bow on top.

Framed by the open door and surrounded by the rugged backdrop and falling snow, John looked completely at home. For a long moment, Lucie simply stood and soaked him in.

“Lawson!” Zara yelled at the top of her lungs. “John’s here.”

Behind Lucie, their father cleared his throat. Morgans did not yell.

While he’d fathered them both, Charles Morgan had never married Lucie’s mother, and Zara was the only Morgan who treated Lucie as blood relation. So while the head of the Morgan clan and his “legitimate” family claimed to accept Lucie as one of them, they hadn’t
really
accepted anything other than the fact Lucie was getting a big fat trust fund payout on Monday when she turned thirty. Few seemed happy about that.

Like turning thirty wasn’t daunting enough.

Zara struggled to get her pregnant self on her feet to greet John, and Lucie hastily set down the tray on the large glass coffee table. As she grabbed one of her sister’s hands, John strode across the wood floor, dropping snow as he went, and gently took Zara’s other hand. Together, the two of them helped her stand.

Zara, always amenable and outgoing, had become even more so during her pregnancy. Hormones, Lawson claimed. She threw her arms around John and hugged him hard. “We’re so glad you came.”

Lucie felt a spurt of jealousy. Not because Zara and John had become friends, but because her sister had no reservations when it came to saying and showing what she felt. Not even in front of the stuffy, no-public-displays-of-emotion family they belonged to.

John wasn’t a PDA type of guy either, but he accepted the hug with grace. Over Zara’s shoulder, he met Lucie’s stare with his brilliant blue eyes and an embarrassed smile raising the corners of his lips. “Lucie invited me. How could I say no?”

The sound of his deep voice with its slight Texas drawl, combined with that look, sent Lucie’s pulse into the red zone and her mind into the past. It had been nearly two months since the last time his full lips had teased her mouth into submission. Two months since that lazy drawl had laced his voice when he’d murmured in her ear, “I can’t wait to get that sweet little body of yours under me.”

She shivered. Yep, John Quick was hot.

A hot, sexy hero who’d saved her the previous year from Dmitri, and still invaded her dreams on a daily basis. With his long, lean frame, blue eyes, and sly smile, he regularly took center stage in her daydreams, her night dreams, and every spare second she wasn’t trying to fit into the Morgan family’s way of life.

There were dreams of him in nothing but his cowboy boots pounding her against the bedroom wall. Dreams of his strong arms holding her up as they had sweaty sex in the back of his truck. In the shower. On the kitchen table—

Another throat-clearing from behind her interrupted her lascivious thoughts. She blushed and John smiled for real. Did he know what she’d been thinking?

Plastering on her practiced Morgan face, she took his hand as he broke away from Zara’s embrace. “Everyone, this is John Quick, the man who rescued me last year. John, this is my family.”

Sort of.

John tensed and Lucie wondered if she’d said something wrong. Having grown up in France with a French mother, she often mixed up her words in English. Not as much now as when she’d first moved to America, but sometimes she didn’t understand the subtleties of American culture or slang. She said the wrong thing, implied the wrong meaning.

To the Morgan clan, it was another reason to dismiss her, and one of the reasons she stayed quiet around them. Once she got her trust fund, they’d realize she didn’t care about the money. She intended to give most of it away and the rest she would use to help out the kids at the ballet studio. What she wanted was a family.

Zara, coming to her rescue, patted John’s arm. “He and Lawson are both heroes, but they hate hearing it.”

Her father stepped forward, hand outstretched, even though he looked like he’d rather shake a rat’s tail. “John.”

No “good to see you” or “glad you could make it.” Just the briefest acknowledgment that sounded like a warning.

Agent Saunders also shook John’s hand. “It’s been a while.”

“Good to see you again, Matt,” he replied.

Oh, right. They knew each other. Agent Saunders probably knew more about John than she did, since they’d worked together. Lucie tamped down another spurt of jealousy as she told John, “Agent Saunders was in New York for a meeting and was available to drive out to join us.”

The man smiled at her. “Kind of you to invite me, Lucie. It’s good to see you and Zara and your family under such enjoyable circumstances. The party is a nice getaway for me, and I’m glad I could make it.”

At that moment, Zara’s own hero entered the room. Lawson and John embraced, slapping each other on the back. “About time you arrived, Johnnie boy. I was starting to think you’d chickened out.”

John smiled but it resembled more of a sneer. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, man.”

Liar. He and Lawson exchanged some kind of nonverbal message and Lucie bit the inside of her bottom lip.

John didn’t want to be here.

I should have known he wouldn’t want to come.

But she’d needed him. Needed to talk to him. He was so committed to Pegasus, their relationship had never had a chance to develop. John had told her he didn’t like commitments, that they were doomed before they started because of his job, and yet, it was the only thing she thought about these days. A relationship. With a man who didn’t care who she was or what her last name was. A relationship with John.

And that’s why she’d invited him.

That and the sex dreams.

Getting him to the cabin wasn’t just about Zara and Lawson’s baby. Or having John meet her family. If things went her way, Lucie was going to kidnap him for the weekend. She had everything planned, right down to making Lawson swear on a bible that John wouldn’t get called for a mission. Although John had insisted he didn’t want a relationship, Lawson had told her he was just scared.

Well, she was scared, too. Relationships were difficult and painful and sometimes even self-destructive. But they could be healthy and fun as well. Good things, including friendships and closer ties to family, could come out of tragic events and unfortunate past circumstances. She had to persuade John that not only could he have a loving, long-term relationship, but that he deserved one.

Reaching for the beer gift, she let her fingers linger over his as they touched. “We should put that in the fridge, yes?”

He let her take the six-pack and shrugged off his coat. Grabbing Lucie by the hand, he leaned in and gave her fingers a slight squeeze. “
Oui
,” he answered in her native tongue, all traces of his Texas accent disappearing. His gaze rambled over her dress, down to her shoes. “Let’s put them on some ice.”

Her pulse jumped. Ice. Good idea. The things he could do to her with an ice cube…

Ice cube…kitchen…kitchen table.

Oh, yeah, the kitchen table was definitely on her list of fantasies to act out this weekend. As was the hot tub, and the shower, and…

John tilted his head slightly, as if he were reading her carnal thoughts.

Keeping a straight face, she tugged him toward the kitchen at the back of the cabin. “Come with me. You can help me with the cake.”

Cake. Frosting.
John lying on the kitchen table with frosting all over his body…

Blushing, Lucie put her head down as she walked past her father and smiled.

God. Why was she so nervous? Zara and Lawson had primed her for this moment with John, but now that she’d led him into the expansive chef’s kitchen, where they could be alone, she felt like an actor with stage fright.

Removing a bottle of beer from the carton, she toyed with it before placing it in the refrigerator. “You never told me you speak French.”

John leaned on the center island, his gaze taking in the Viking appliances, marble countertops, and catered food covering every surface. “I can’t. I’m only fluent in terrorist and hostage negotiations.”

She’d witnessed that firsthand. She still had nightmares where John and Lawson didn’t show up at Dmitri’s compound in time, and she and Zara died. “You didn’t like it when I introduced you to the family.”

He met her eyes, crossed his arms over his chest. “It wasn’t that. My job is classified. I don’t tell people what I do for a living.”

Way to go, Luce.

“
J’ai fait une gaffe
.” She looked away and slid another bottle onto the shelf. “I made a mistake.”

Reaching for a shrimp cup, he shrugged. “Your family already knows about Zara’s and Law’s jobs. They had to in the aftermath of the kidnapping. Guess it’s not a big deal.”

But it was. She could tell. Outside the large window above the kitchen sink, she caught sight of a red truck. “Did you drive all the way from D.C.?”

Another shrug. “I have some time off. Driving clears my head.”

Lawson had told her John was on a forced vacation after getting in that morning from his latest mission. She didn’t understand why anyone would have to be forced to take time off work, but apparently, his last two missions had gone badly and John was unhappy. Stressed out.
Making poor decisions
, Lawson had said. He needed time away from the job.

A perfect reason to kidnap him and keep him at the cabin all weekend. She had several stress-reducers in mind.

Had he thought about her at all when he was away?

“I am staying here for the weekend.” She placed the last bottles of beer into the fridge and shut the door before leaning against it. “You could stay with me. Clear your head here.”

The casual air he’d been projecting disappeared even though nothing about his body changed. He studied her, those blue eyes intense. Penetrating. “Crowded in with the rest of the family?”

“They’re leaving.” Soon, too, by the way they’d been acting. Fine with her. Now that John was here, she would happily ship them all out. “It would be only you and me.”

The penetrating stare turned warm. Not warm,
hot
.

Look out, kitchen table
.

She was sure he was going to say yes. Then he crossed his arms again. “I’m on call for Pegasus. I should get back to D.C.”

Lawson had warned her John would do this. Resist. Thing was, Lucie knew what she wanted. So many things became clear after seeing the inside of a terrorist compound. After being drugged and used as bait. After nearly losing your one and only sister, and nearly dying alongside her.

You never knew when some terrorist was going to come along and screw up your life. All the plans she’d had for the future had taken on new meaning. Living for today became more important.

As the French would say, she needed to bite life with full teeth.

Which was why she was trying so hard with her American family. Her mother back in Paris had recently given Lucie her blessing to reach out to Charles and move to Arlington to be near Zara. After her ordeal with Dmitri, Lucie longed to be part of this family more than anything in the world. To belong with them. Share her secrets with them. Forge new relationships.

So far, she had the last name and a trust fund. She was still working on the belonging part.

The only other thing she wanted was John. “It’s my birthday.” And he would be her present.
If
she pulled this off. “On Monday.”

His brows went up and he looked chagrined. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have gotten you something.”

Time to take that bite out of life
.

Pushing away from the fridge, she gave him a return look she hoped conveyed what she was planning as she walked over and stood in front of him. Uncrossing his arms, she gripped them tightly and wrapped them around her waist, pressing her breasts and hips against him. “All I want is you. For the weekend.”

His body, so tense it practically vibrated, shifted to accommodate her. The hot look returned to his eyes. He rested his hands on her hips and searched her face. For what, she wasn’t sure.