A Darker Shade of Dead (31 page)

“The MPs in Washington put him on a plane bound for Fort Bragg. He'll be arriving shortly. Some of our guys are going out to meet the plane and escort him back here.”

“Perfect.” Matt felt an immense sense of satisfaction. At least they'd managed to get Chester. That was a coup in Matt's book. Now they had to build the case that would sink him for good. Chester couldn't be allowed to wriggle out of this one.

“You haven't heard the best part yet.” Sandra's eyes shone with excitement.

“Tell me,” Matt smiled; her mood was contagious. Or maybe he just felt this happy sensation anytime he was near her. He'd heard love could do that kind of thing, though he'd never experienced it himself before.

“He had a briefcase full of incriminating documents and a change of clothes in his overnight bag…alongside about a hundred thousand in cash and forged identity papers.”

Oh, Matt liked the sound of that. Apparently, Chester had made a big part of their case for them. The admiral wouldn't be going free anytime soon. Not if Matt had anything to say about it.

Their mission at Fort Bragg was nearing completion. With the capture of Rodriguez, there was a good chance they'd effectively ended the zombie problem that had plagued the base for so long. Of course, the threat still existed of the technology being sold to a foreign power. If Rodriguez was to be believed, there was someone else pulling the strings, orchestrating the show from afar.

Matt knew he'd have to track that person down and end this once and for all before his mission was complete. They had a lot of investigative work ahead of them to pick up the trail and find the puppeteer who was running this farce, whoever he or she turned out to be. The immediate danger of zombies at Bragg was probably over, which meant they could, and most likely would, relocate to wherever the clues led.

Matt's mood was one of immense satisfaction, tinged with renewed conviction. He would track down everyone involved in this sinister plot. He'd taken on this mission and had every intention of seeing it through to the end. Only now, he'd be doing so with Sandra by his side.

Something he couldn't have foreseen when he'd first taken on the job, Sandra had become a beautiful complication in his life. One he wouldn't trade for the world. She completed him in the most basic of ways.

He grabbed her and hugged her close, laying a kiss on her that held all his joy and triumph. She returned it with love.

His heart melted all over again. Would he never get enough of this beautiful, sensitive, adventurous woman? She was his match in every way. The perfect mate to his independent spirit. He knew they didn't have time for more and backed away, letting her go by slow degrees.

“Have I told you how much I love you today, Sandy?”

“I believe you just did.” She grinned up at him, her eyes still a little dazed from their kiss.

He loved that look. He'd keep it on her face at all times, if he had to spend the rest of his life perfecting the skill.

“Let's blow this popcorn stand. I want to be alone with you.”

“Can we do that?” She looked around the room in surprise. “I mean, there's a lot to do.”

“Don't I know it. But I think we can steal a few minutes for ourselves. We deserve it. And hell, I'm the boss. RHIP, sweetheart. Rank, most definitely, has its privileges.”

He tugged her by the waist, moving her toward the door at the end of the open office area. It led to his new private office. The one with that memorable leather wing chair and the over-stuffed couch.

She gasped when she realized where he was leading her, but didn't protest too loudly.

“Tell me something, doc. Do you make house calls?” He tilted his head and looked speculatively toward the open door to his private domain. “Or in this case, office calls?”

The grin on her face was all the answer he needed, but she leaned in and kissed him for good measure. She then stepped out of his arms to precede him into the room with a slight sway in her hips that was clear invitation.

“You know I do, Commander.” The saucy wink she sent him over her shoulder made his heart race in anticipation.

He followed her into the office and kicked the door closed.

They had a lot to do, but it could wait. Loving his woman would come first, last, always…and forever.

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“H
ello?”

Katie froze at the sound of the familiar male voice. Then her head whipped around. The main door was open, but the metal security screen was closed and locked. It would be hard for people to see inside and impossible for anyone to break it down, but, oh boy, could she see out.

It couldn't be. It couldn't be. It couldn't be.

She repeated the refrain as she stared at the outline on the other side of the steel screen. Dark hair, broad shoulders, and relaxed stance. She'd know that body anywhere.

That would teach her to want fresh air. If the stifling heat hadn't bothered her, she'd be hiding in the storage closet and ignoring him right about now.

“Can you hear me?” He looked right at her as he said it. Clearly he knew she was there. Could see her, despite the promises in the sales brochure about the door providing protection and privacy. It didn't seem to be doing either at the moment.

With wet hands dripping on the floor beside her sneakers, she stood there. “Uh…”

“Not sure if you can see me.” He waved his hand. “We met at the Armstrong-Windsor wedding.”

Met?
Now there was an interesting word for what they did. “Oh, I know who you are.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Eric chuckled in a rich open tone that vibrated down to her feet.

She could hear the amusement in his voice. Figuring out how to take it was the bigger issue. She rubbed her hands on the towel hanging out of the waistband of her khaki shorts and adjusted her white tee to make sure everything that should be covered was. “What are you doing here?”

“I can explain if you'll let me come inside.”

Talk about a stupid option. “No.”

After a beat of silence, he spoke up. “Really?”

He sounded stunned at the idea of being turned down. Apparently the big, important man didn't like it when people disagreed with him.

That realization was enough to make her brain reboot. While running held some appeal, it wasn't very practical. They lived on an island, after all. And she needed to know how he'd tracked her down. “I mean, why do you want to come in?”

She could see his broad shoulders through the thick safety mesh and the way he balanced his hands on his lean hips. He was a man in control of his surroundings, even though this part of town didn't fit him at all. He wore tailored suits and walked into a fancy high-rise office every day.

Many of the folks in the Kalihi neighborhood never ventured near the expensive restaurants and exclusive communities around the island. This was a working-class area with an increasing crime rate, older and lined with warehouses, a little rough. A place where words like “redevelopment” were thrown around but never brought to fruition. In other words, not the place where one would expect to find Eric Kimura.

“I wanted to talk with you,” he explained.

She'd been afraid he would say that. “Okay.”

He pressed his face close to the screen. “And people are starting to wonder why I'm screaming into a door, so could we take this inside?”

Last thing she needed was for him to be mugged. She tried to imagine explaining that bit of news to the cops…and to Cara.

“I'm coming.” Katie rushed over, jangling the keys in her hand as she tried to find the one for the top deadbolt. “Here we go.”

Eric didn't hesitate. The second she opened the screen, he pushed his way in and closed the solid door behind him. The controlling move should have made her nervous. Instead, she was strangely intrigued. Hunting her down took some work. Stepping into this neighborhood at five o'clock, which probably qualified as the middle of his workday, created a bit of mystery. Clearly he wanted to find her. Now he had.

He held out his hand. “Eric Kimura.”

She stared at his long fingers before sliding her palm inside his. “Oh.”

The corner of his mouth kicked up. “But you knew that, right?”

“Pretty much.” The feel of that smooth skin against hers brought a rush of heat to her cheeks. She looked down at their joined hands, wondering at what point long turned to
too long
and she had to let go. “I watch the news now and then.”

“Ah, yes. Not always the most flattering place to pick up information about me, but not a surprise.” He frowned as if the notoriety didn't sit all that well with him. “So, do you have a name?”

“I figured you knew it since you tracked me here and all.”

“I have my sources but the exact name was tougher.”

Yeah, he had something all right
. “Katie Long.”

“The caterer.”

Looked like he didn't quite know everything. She dropped his hand and backed up a step. No need for them to be this close, sucking up all the air in the room, when there was a big No-Eric zone right behind her. “Her assistant and sister. I'm surprised you went to the trouble to find me.”

His head tilted to the side. The wide-eyed look made him look younger, less imposing, if only for a few seconds. “Why?”

This qualified as the strangest morning-after type conversation she'd ever had. “I guess this is the part where I say I've never done that at a wedding before.”

He nodded. “For the record, me either.”

“And where I insist I'm not the kind of woman who engages in thirty-minute sex romps with strangers.” She actually wasn't but there was no way to sell that as a convincing story after the way they'd met.

“I'm not judging.”

Of course he was. Hell, she was. When she'd vowed to turn her life around, she'd promised the days of putting herself at risk were over. She wouldn't do dumb things or get involved with the wrong guys. Eric didn't appear to be a loser, but he was most definitely wrong. He was her assignment. She was supposed to keep a safe distance and being under him didn't cut it.

“Maybe just a little judging?” She held up two fingers and squeezed them together.

“Any name I call you would apply to me.”

“Very logical.”

“You weren't alone in that room.”

She tried very hard not to conjure up a visual image of his hands up her skirt. “Oh, I know.”

“I admit, that sort of thing isn't a weekly occurrence for me.”

She laughed. The contrast between the serious way his brows came together and the humor in his tone did her in. He might be good at sex, but he wasn't all that comfortable with the way they'd met.

That made two of them.

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H
er mind was a blank. What had she been dreaming about?

Her face suddenly flooded with heat when she remembered. She'd been dreaming of a sexy, very naked, male god, worshipping at his feet like a horny woman who hadn't been laid in over a year. That wasn't true. She'd actually had sex eleven and a half months ago.

Except the man she'd drooled about in her dreams might very well be a corpse right now. Her heart began to pound.

Had Ms. Abernathy buried the body? Did the housekeeper know that would make her an accessory? Darcy grimaced when she thought about sharing a cell with her. Not that she disliked the housekeeper. She'd been almost as much of a mother to Darcy as her adoptive mother. Hmm, and bossy, now that she thought about it. But still, she didn't want Ms. Abernathy to go to prison because she was being overprotective.

Darcy flung the cover aside and jumped out of bed, glancing at the clock. It was barely six. She rushed toward the closet, but stopped at the French doors that led to her balcony. Her room was directly across from the guest house. If something had happened to Surlock during the night, she would be able to tell from her room—maybe.

She opened the double doors and rushed out onto the balcony, then stumbled to a stop. The swimming pool was between her room and the guest house. Surlock stood on the diving board, his arms raised. The sun peeked over the horizon, casting everything in a hazy early morning light. There was enough light that she could see him, though.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. The man was truly magnificent, and very naked. Right now, she didn't really mind that he disliked clothes. Boy, did she not mind!

His muscles weren't so big that he looked deformed. No, they were just right. His chest was broad with just a sprinkling of dark hair. Her gaze dropped lower. Nice. Very nice.

A burning need grew inside her. For just a moment, she wondered what it would feel like to lie naked in his arms, to have his body pressed against hers. The ache inside her grew until she trembled with need. Her last few dates had been losers. She had a feeling Surlock would be good in bed. He would know how to please a woman.

Her hands curled into fists, nails biting into her palms as she stifled the groan that threatened to explode from her. She needed good sex. Maybe Surlock was a gift from the sex gods and she was meant to have him. It could happen. Before she could get too far into her fantasy, he dove into the water, causing barely a ripple.

She leaned over the balcony. Nice ass. Firm. Hmm, with a tattoo on the upper right cheek. Or a birthmark. Odd, she had a birthmark in the same place. She squinted her eyes, but he was too far away for her to tell exactly what it was. What were the odds it would be the same as her birthmark? She quickly dismissed the thought as she lost herself watching him swim the length of the pool.

The muscles in his back tightened and relaxed as he reached forward in the water. He swam to the end of the pool, then turned and swam back. His movements were those of a professional.

Maybe that was what he was—a swimmer.

Yeah, right, he'd been running around naked in the woods looking for a pool. With a wolf at his side.

What if he'd been raised by wolves? He'd growled at Dr. Wilson. Surlock did come across as a little wild, untamed. A fantasy formed in her mind. Surlock was Tarzan of the wolves, and he was looking for a woman he could steal away and take back to his den.

She shook her head. Ridiculous. Besides, since she had hit him over the head, Darcy kind of doubted she would be in the running as someone he would whisk away. The thought of spending time lying in his arms was nice, though.

Surlock popped out of the water, levering himself to the side of the pool, slinging his wet hair out of his face. He sat there for a moment, catching his breath, before getting to his feet. Rather than go immediately back to the guest house, he looked up, their gazes locking, as though he'd known she watched him the whole time. He seemed quite unconcerned he was naked.

He didn't smile or wave. Not even a nod. He only stared at her for a long moment, his gaze slipping down her body, caressing her with his eyes, causing goose bumps to pop up on her arms. For a brief moment, something passed between them. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him.