Beneath the Secrets: Part One (11 page)

“No.”

“I can point out things you wouldn’t see right away.”

“I’m not putting you in danger.”

Kara felt like she was in the Twilight Zone. A few hours ago, she was worried he’d want to kill her. Now, she was convincing him she didn’t need to be protected. This was just…odd. “I thought you weren’t letting me out of your sight? I could still run.”

“You won’t.”

“Are you 100% sure?”

His lips thinned. “Fine, you can ride along, but you’re staying in the truck.”

“Fine, but that won’t keep me from running. You’ll need me by your side.”

“I’ll cuff you to the wheel.”

Her eyes went wide. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.” He didn’t give her time to ask if he even had a set of cuffs, before he ordered, “Get dressed. We have a stop before we go to the pier.”

“What stop?”
 

“Your place.”

Kara blanched. “My place?”
 

“That’s right. I’m moving in. That way you are in my sights all the time.”

“No. You can’t.” He couldn’t. This was bad.

“I am.” He rounded the corner to the hallway, disappearing out of her view, and she could hear him doing something with his bag.
 

Kara’s mind raced for a way out of this, but she was coming up blank. Blake had already seen beneath her story and while she was smart enough to have nothing damaging lying around her place—she was too well trained for that—it didn’t matter. Blake would see the facade of a real life in her fluffy decor and use it to unwrap the truth. He’d confirm what he suspected, that her life as she’d put it on paper was fiction.
 

“Hop to it,” he said, reappearing and tugging a shirt the rest of the way down his chest, and over his rippling, spectacular abs. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I live in a tiny studio. You won’t like it.”

His eyes danced with mischief and heat. “All the better to get to know you in.”

“What if I don’t want you to stay with me?”
 

“Sorry, darlin’.” He scooped up his socks. “This time if you drug me and I pass out it’s going to be in your bed.”

***

Blake pulled up to a parking meter behind Kara’s car as she parked, and glanced at her apartment directly to his left, which was more a wooden house broken into small units and framed by two more just like it. Kara killed her lights and he quickly dialed Kyle for the second time since leaving the hotel ten minutes before.
 

The instant Kyle answered, he said, “You had to park in front and under a streetlight? Thanks for making it impossible for me not to be seen.”

“If your job was easy,” Blake said, unzipping his bag to remove the plastic bag holding a glass Kara had used in the hotel, “you wouldn’t like it.”

Kyle started to grumble and Kara got out of her car. Blake hung up on him, setting the bag with the glass on the seat and hoping they’d get a match on her identity. He snatched up his duffle and the pizza boxes, then climbed out of the truck, feeling tension coil in his gut. Not only did he have Kara to figure out—and yes, protect because he couldn’t fight the feeling he needed to—he was damn worried about this drug. A substance like that could be a terrorist weapon, and Blake couldn’t pretend it didn’t exist just to achieve his own agenda. He had to find the source of that drug and destroy it. If he couldn’t, no matter how much he didn’t want to get his old club involved, he was going to have to bring in the ATF.
 

He met Kara at the hood of his truck and he didn’t miss the nervous look on her face, but she shivered against the year-round chilly San Francisco night air and quickly headed toward the door. “Home sweet mansion,” she said when she’d unlocked the apartment and flipped a light on the inner wall.
 

Blake stepped inside the warm entryway, and glanced up a flight of stairs that seemed to lead directly to a dimly lit living area. Kara flipped the lock into place and he followed her to the next level.
 

At the top, Blake found himself standing inside a small studio with light hardwood floors, a living area with one red leather couch and a chair, and to its right, a canopy bed. Kara’s canopy bed, where he would be sleeping with her. The wild, wicked things he could do to her in that bed heated his blood, as it would most men, but for reasons unknown to him, his chest tightened with emotion right along with his groin.
 

Kara delicately cleared her throat. “Let me take that pizza. You’ll be glad you brought it. I don’t have much in the fridge.”

“I’ll fix that tomorrow.”

Kara wet her lips, reminding him of how soft they were pressed to his, and looking nervous in the process. He didn’t think she got nervous often. “Right,” she said. “Of course.” She rushed off to the small kitchen opposite the living area and he let his bag drop to the ground, taking in the room.There were pictures of San Francisco and little trinkets on a table and bookshelf, but not one personal item. It looked like one of the places they would set up as part of a cover.
 

Kara returned and motioned to a partitioned wall near the bed. “I’ll change so we can get out of here.”
 

Blake watched her disappear around the makeshift wall, her shadow reflecting from behind it, a teasing silhouette of her undressing. He ground his teeth against the tightening of his groin. Kara wasn’t what she seemed, but she awakened something inside him, something he’d thought died with Whitney, something more than passion. The raw, seeping wound inside him, dark with emotion, was still there, but there was more now. There was…hope.
 

Grimacing, he ran a rough hand through his hair and turned away from the screen. If he fell for this woman and she burned him, he wasn’t sure he had it in him to get back up again. He wasn’t going to fall for her. He’d protect her. That was it.
 

Blake drew a deep breath and turned right back around again, proving to himself this woman did not have him by the throat, just the balls and he could pry her hand off those. His gaze went to her silhouette, the shadows outlining her naked body as she reached for a pair of pants. Blake’s cock went instantly rock hard and his control, the control he’d claimed to own so fully, threatened to snap. After a moment of fighting it, he decided to embrace what he was feeling and make sure she did, too. He stalked across the room and around the panel, the sweet, feminine scent of Kara slamming into him almost as fiercely as her creamy-white naked body.
 

She gasped as he drew her into an embrace, his mouth closing down on hers, commanding her to give herself to him, his tongue seducing hers into a response. Her body softened almost instantly, and it turned him on, and then pissed him off. She was good at turning him on. Too good.
 

He pressed her against the wall, twined his fingers into the dark silk of her hair, and forced her gaze to his. “It would be better for you to tell me who you are now, on your own.”

“I’m Kara,” she panted. “I’ve always been Kara.”

“End the game here and now,” he growled. “Don’t make me do it for you.”

“You think this is a game to me? This has never been anything further from a game to me.”

“What do you call secrets and lies? A game. A dangerous game. You have nothing personal here, not even a picture of your mother.”

“If I have her picture, that makes her important to me. There are people, like Ignacio, that might decide that means she’s worth hurting.”

“And yet you told Mendez and Richter.”

“I did what I had to and a public announcement isn’t required.”

He glared at her, probed her eyes. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

She sucked in a breath, a tormented look flashing in her eyes. “No. If I did, I wouldn’t be here.”

More of the game, but beneath it was real pain and it spoke to him. He knew it, understood it, and owned it with far more gusto than he wished to claim. And he wanted to own her. It was a barbaric thought, but he owned it for that, and for where it came from. If he owned her, he’d take her someplace far away from here, and keep her safe. He was damn near desperate to keep her safe and he knew why, he knew the past was messing with him, he knew he couldn’t escape it, or the guilt over Whitney’s death that ate him alive.
 

Bitterness ripped through him and acid burned in that open wound that was a cavern inside him. His mouth came down on Kara’s again, rough with anger, at his loss, at Kara for making him care enough to be here right now, ready to bury himself in her, not some nameless woman who didn’t give a shit about him. Who wouldn’t be around to worry over the next day.
 

His tongue delved deep into the warm, sweet recesses of Kara’s mouth, his hands sliding over her breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples. A haze of lust and desire overcame him, fed into her, and she responded, touching him. He lost himself in the rush of heat over his skin, the silk of her floral-scented hair on his face. He didn’t remember how his pants got down or how the condom ended up over his shaft. There was only the sizzle, the touches, the taste of her on his tongue, and the moment he lifted her leg and watched the lines and shadows of desire on her beautiful face as he pressed deep inside her.

Blake framed her face, staring down at her. “Fuck me here and now, and like this, a million times over. But don’t fuck me outside of this.”

“Blake—”

He kissed her, hard, punishing, because he knew he wasn’t looking for a promise she wouldn’t keep, but he had one to give her, one he would keep. He tore his mouth from hers, and stared down at her. “You’re in over your head and I’m going to keep you safe. The only person who is ever going to kill you is me, and I plan to do it with pleasure.” He drove into her and went to work, keeping his vow.
 

Chapter Ten

Kara was a whirlwind of emotions as Blake parked the truck in the hotel garage they’d left earlier, to be near the pier. There was something happening between them, something she wasn’t going to want to walk away from. She kept telling herself it was her using him to hide from the heartache she feared her mission was going to bring to her. But if that were true, it was only true because deep in her soul, she connected with Blake. She felt his pain, too. To believe he was one of them tore her apart. Yet she had every reason to believe he was, and nothing but what he made her feel to believe otherwise.
 

Blake reached under his leather jacket and gave her gun back. Her gaze lifted to his at the sign of trust that reached so much further than her purse he’d already returned. “You stay in the truck and lock the door,” Blake ordered. “But use that if you need to.”

“Why not let me introduce you to Ignacio?”

“I don’t want you attached to this. I can introduce myself.”

“Blake—”

He leaned in and kissed her. “You might be playing with your life, Kara, but I’m not.”
 

She grabbed his arm. “Don’t get killed. I’m not done with you yet.”

His lips lifted. “Sweetheart, I’m not done with you either and I don’t die easily. You’ll figure that out soon enough.”

He was out of the truck before she could stop him and knocking on the window to tell her to lock up. She did as he wanted and sat there, watching him saunter away, relieved he’d had someone drop weapons at her door. He’d armed himself to the hilt. Oh, how a day changed things. She went from him being a threat to her worried about the threat to him.
 

“He’s still a threat, Kara,” she whispered, warning herself not to forget something so important.
 

She spent the next twenty minutes reminding herself of that fact, and that twenty minutes turned to forty. She was nervous. What if something had happened to Blake because of her information?
 

Kara ran her hands down her black jeans, trying to contain her nervous energy. She’d had enough of the sitting-duck routine. She grabbed her purse, and slid the gun inside. She found a piece of paper in her purse and left Blake her cell number. Next she snatched the truck key and put it in her black leather jacket, for easy access if she needed to get out of here quickly.
 

Once she was out of the truck, she headed toward a building she’d found that offered good coverage for photos just across the street. Five minutes later, she’d squatted behind a wall and removed her binoculars to check out the pier and hopefully locate Blake.
 

Scanning, she found the pier and her blood ran cold to see it empty. Something was not right. Something was—

“Hola, Kara,” came a familiar male voice that made her blood run cold.

Kara glanced up to find Ignacio standing above her with a gun in his hand. Blake might not be able to keep that promise he’d made earlier. Ignacio wouldn’t hesitate to kill her, and there would be no pleasure involved.