Catch Me If You Can (Love's Command) (4 page)

“Dare, you’re a man that never makes commitments. Why wake up next to one woman, when you can wake up to three? Isn’t that your motto? And now you want to fuck up your chance at being a real member of this team—a team so elite it’s buried under so much red tape you could cover Rhode Island—all because of a woman.”

Heat hit the back of his neck, and he glanced out of the window to see Kylie coming toward them still. It was a shock to know he was embarrassed by his own words. What would she think of him? He shook his head at his thoughts. The decision was made. The Sentinels had offered him the job of a lifetime, an opportunity to be on an elite team, with missions rumored to be more dangerous than any on the planet, all with the goal of protecting not just the United States, but the world.

He’d trade it all for the woman who’d cared enough for one soldier to drag him to safety then come back to tend his wounds. Save his life.

She stopped at the busy intersection and waited for the cars rushing along the street, giving him time to drink in the sight of her. He’d remembered her face, or so he’d thought until now. Now he realized he’d not gotten the beauty of her lips right, or the angle of her cheekbones, or the way her wide-eyed gaze seemed to take in everything around her. Her ears were small and so damn cute. She turned slightly to the left, and an urge to stand behind her and bend so he could run his lips along the curve of her neck filled his head.

“Fuck!” he shouted, and was nearly out of the vehicle before he’d even registered the bearded Arab holding a gun to the base of her skull. In the distance, he heard Tazz on his left, but all he could focus on was the complete lack of fear on Kylie’s face. She looked like she almost welcomed the death waiting for her. He saw her eyes widen a second when he yelled her name, then she ducked, jabbed the guy with an elbow and twisted around. Dare stumbled into him. He dropped the guy to the sidewalk without meaning to, simply because she’d thrown him right at his feet.

“Shit, don’t move, don’t move!” he shouted, but she backed away with too-wide eyes, then pushed a woman at him and raced down the crowded street just as fast as she had at the airport. This time though, he wasn’t suffering from
whothehellisit
. He knew this woman. No way was he losing her—again. He kicked into action, years of running for his life and after men much bigger and faster than Kylie Chung, punching him into a fast dash.

After six years, baby, if you think you can dodge me again, you’re wrong.

He heard Tazz shout his name and turned to yell, “Get the guy, I’m on her.”

He turned back in time to see her make the corner then she was out of sight. He spotted her a second after he pushed his way through the crowded street market. She was fast, and more, she seemed to know how to weave in and out of the people spread out in the streets without getting caught up by them or the fruit and vegetable dealers laying their produce out everywhere.

A block later she took a left. He dodged down a side street filled with hanging laundry but fewer people and raced to the end, took a right and barreled smack into her. He grabbed her upper arms to keep her with him. Their eyes met. Hers were light, a hazel color with striations of darker brown that captivated him. Her cap had flown off and all her black hair had tumbled down around her shoulders.

He tried to think of what to say, but the only thing that came out was, “You left me.”

She blinked and tried to jerk out of his grip. He tightened his hands and made sure she stayed put. She let out an angry spate of Korean, or maybe Chinese, but he refused to let her go. Finally she blew her hair off her face with an angry puff and stopped trying to break his hold. He guessed she could have dislodged him with one of her quick moves if she wanted to badly enough, but for some reason she hadn’t.

“Look, I’m going to chase you if you do get away, so why not settle down, talk to me, and we can stop the running for a while, okay?”

His honesty seemed to make her frown.

“Why are you chasing me?”

Just when he would have smiled at her exasperated demand, gunshots ripped through the air. Pieces of the concrete wall behind her blew outward, spraying them both with debris. He tackled her down into a hunch under his arm and forced her behind the cars lining the street. Two more shots sounded. From the angle the bullets hit, Dare realized they weren’t necessarily aiming for them.

He shoved her up against a red BMW and chanced a look. Two men were stationed behind an overturned cart aiming for another vehicle where Tazz crouched half hidden behind the hood of the car. Tazz caught his eye and gave him the ‘okay’ signal then jerked his hand down and out, indicating he should move out.

More shots were fired at Tazz. He hunched down then returned fire, hitting one man and possibly the other.

People shouted and screamed, and Kylie tried to pull from Dare’s grip again. He hauled her close to his body and plowed his way through the throng like he was back on the football field, and ducked them both down behind a mid-sized van.

“You want to tell me who is shooting at you?” he asked.

Silence and a pissed off glare met his demand. She dropped down that silent-I-don’t-care-what-happens mask he’d seen earlier, shutting him out. He wasn’t allowing that.

“You don’t care if you live or die? Is that it?” he demanded. “I do. I’m not letting you get your head blown off because you’ve made some mistakes. Now, who is trying to kill you?” he demanded again, shaking her shoulders for emphasis.

After several seconds of sizing him up she shrugged and looked away, dismissing him for the second time in one day. Shit didn’t happen to him. People—especially smaller, fragile looking women—answered his questions without him even having to touch them.

Just when he’d reached his limit, she sighed heavily and murmured. “He wasn’t trying to kill me. He wanted something from me. And it looks to me like they are shooting at you guys.”

Kylie Chung was a beautiful woman, more captivating up close than she was from yards away. He still wasn’t letting her pass on that one. She’d had a gun to her head, for God’s sake.

“Maybe, but I wasn’t the one with a gun pointed at my skull, executioner style. Now, here’s what we’re going to do,” he said and pulled her attention back to his face with his forefinger under her chin. For some damn reason, it mattered to him that she saw him,
remembered
him. In the desert, he’d been busted up, his face swollen and cut up with shrapnel, but he’d counted on her recognizing him. “We’re going to circle around, and get in that vehicle—”

“No.” She shrugged his hand off, pushed at him and tried to stand. He tugged her back down to face him. He was bigger and he used it, ninja moves or not, she wasn’t getting away again.

“What else are you going to do? Run?” He tightened his hands on her tiny arms and shook her gently. “That didn’t work so well, did it? You can’t run through the streets of Seoul and dodge these guys.”

She huffed at him like he was being the stubborn one. “I can. I was, before you came along. You stand out, you draw attention. I blend in. I can’t go with you.”

She was angry, pissed off even, but at him? Or at something else?

“I stand out everywhere, that’s life.” He shrugged and grinned, but she looked even angrier, if possible. “Do I have to remind you—?”

“You don’t have to remind me of anything,” she snapped.

She scanned the area, the tall buildings looming up around them, then the rushing pedestrians, then him again. He’d bet his last dollar she had this area mapped out already and had just pinpointed ten different ways to lose him.

“All right, I can see you’re serious about this. What else do you suggest we do?” he asked.

She made fists until her knuckles turned white. Clearly she was not willing to say. She tried to ignore him. He could have told her that wouldn’t work. He was used to attention, and if he had to, he knew how to get it. He’d bet his last dollar she wasn’t a spy.
And if she is?

He’d handle that when and if it were true. He’d already come too far to stop now.

“You’re stuck with me so I suggest you go with it. It’s that, or I cuff you, tuck your pretty little butt over my shoulder then we go to the location my man has secured for us.”

She gasped but quickly frowned and said, “You can’t do that! I have to go to my father’s apartment.”

A horn honking and tires squealing mere feet away, spurred them both into action. She broke from his hold when he reached for his side arm. He caught her by her purse and jerked her right back next to him. A car sped out of control right into the vehicle they’d hidden behind only seconds after they’d made it to the other side of the street. Glass shattered and sprayed the road and sidewalk. More people yelled and Kylie pulled and tugged at him.

He finally let her guide them, surprised at how quickly they managed to make it through the crowds. Police sirens blaring made her pause, glance at him with a frown then take off down a flight of stone stairs lined with flowers and tall decorative grass. The steps were old, uneven in places, but she trotted down them effortlessly, apparently unhindered by her four-inch heels.

“Watch it, would you?” he grumbled, nearly falling right into her. “These things are impossible.”

She shot him a surprised look then actually smiled quickly before turning around to skip her way down.

Hell, she is beautiful
.

“Take them two at a time,” she called back over her shoulder.

He did, and didn’t see any improvement. “How damn long is this thing?” he asked, checking in on their rear a few times. No sign of pursuit. Yet. But if they were caught on these stairs it’d be hell to get off.

“My father’s place is two blocks away. Try not to look so…big,” she grumbled.

He pulled his Navy cap out of his back pocket and grinned at her when she glanced back. She rolled her eyes.

“You are going to ruin this,” she started, then stopped with a huff when he pulled the cap down over his forehead.

“Ruin what?”

“Everyone will remember a big black man at a scene of a shooting.”

Not a problem. He wasn’t worried about any of the Koreans talking to an obvious Arab and his thugs. He wanted to know who the thugs were though, and he had an idea Kylie knew. “Nobody will remember which way we went.”

His humor didn’t sit well with her, he could tell. They reached the bottom of the stairs and entered a beautiful area with cherry trees lining the streets and people walking in couples. He pulled her closer, mimicking the nearest pair.

“Just play along,” he whispered when she stiffened to the point of hurting herself. “If I get caught, then you get caught. Then what?”

Whatever he’d said seemed to work. She softened next to him, even rested her head on the side of his arm. She was tall. She nearly reached his shoulder. He’d have to bend slightly to kiss her, but in those high heels she’d had on earlier, he’d barely have to tip his head to reach her lips.

They reached an elegant but stylish building, more commercial than residential-looking to him, but with nicely manicured shrubs and flowers displayed in a tasteful garden out the front. Rose colored marble lined the entryway, and more marble tiled the courtyard and steps. The place screamed ‘rich’. The entire block was built for the wealthy and privileged in a country where those people were few and far between.

Obviously, Kylie was one of those lucky ones.

“Here.”

He grinned. She sure was a woman of few words. She had no accent either. Not to him at least. She could have been from the United States—any of the Midwestern ones, at least. He’d not remembered her having one, but her Korean had been pretty fast and hard when she’d been yelling his head off.

“Where did you learn English?”

She blinked and did that frown again like he’d just ruined her day. “Where did you?”

“Ha, funny. I meant your English is without accent. You sound American. Why is that?”

“You don’t have an accent either. You sound American. Why is that?”

Okay, he was a smart man. She was pissed off. He could see that. Hell, everyone on the street could probably see that. Her knuckles were white again, and she stood so straight and tense she was probably straining something. A smart man would back down.

He hauled her in close, bent his head and kissed her.

She tasted amazing—like coming home.

Her lips fitted his perfectly. Because he’d shocked her, her mouth was open slightly. He dove in and took them both on a wild, wet ride that would leave him aching for more, and possibly her too, but there wasn’t a chance he could stop. He couldn’t. She tasted so sweet, he feared suddenly that he’d reveal too much in this first kiss. And it was going to be a first kiss to remember. He’d make sure it was and build on to it with many, many more.

He worked his way past her resistance until the hands holding him back dug into his chest trying to keep him close. Only then did he end the kiss and pull away from her lips.

Her mouth glistened from their shared passion, so full and soft he wanted to go right back to kissing her. He didn’t though. Not yet. If he did, he might very well make love to her on her dad’s floor. He wanted her willing—and she had been—but he wanted her as hot to have him as he was to have her. She was warm against him, but he was harder than the marble covering the walls and floor. There wasn’t a chance of him easing into her like this. So there wasn’t a chance of him taking this any farther. He wanted the friction only a woman could provide
—this
woman, he realized, meeting her dazed, beautiful eyes. Only her.

“Why,” she whispered, then stopped to run her pink tongue over her bottom lip, “why did you do that?”

“I wanted to see if you tasted American.”

She reared back and frowned again, but this time he watched the smile blossom on her lips. “And? Did I?”

“Hell if I know, but you taste addictive. I want more.”

That surprised her, he could tell.

Hell, it surprised him.
Since when did you start telling women the truth?

He stared at her beautiful face, mesmerized by the slant of her eyes when she narrowed them, as if trying to figure him out.