Hard Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 2) (4 page)

“Oh, it happens.” She sat on a table. “Especially when someone first starts here. They can feel overwhelmed at the huge change in their routine, and with being surrounded by strangers. What we find really helps is if the artists bring some headphones and listen to music. Something familiar and calming really gives them a sense of privacy and control.”

King nodded. “You think Noah will settle in alright?”

“I believe so. Sarah and Jax have brought him here five times, and he walked around and asked a million questions. I invited him to choose his own work area and we set it up together. Noah knows that his easel and his paint brushes and his paints are all waiting for him here.”

“When does he start?”

“I think tomorrow. I was going to ask Sarah today, but I’ll call her later.” She stood up again, and he admired her curved thighs in those jeans. “So, shall I show you the areas for expansion?”

“Sure.”

He followed her down the hallway to a bunch of closed doors. She produced some keys and started to unlock the doors.

“These rooms aren’t being used right now. None of them have any heat, so they’re useless in the winter, and they have no electricity, so they’re useless in the summer and in the evenings. I want to rip out all these walls and rewire everything and have them put in heating and water pipes. I also want to take four of the rooms and make them one huge space.”

“Lots of work,” King commented.

“And lots of money.”

“How much?”

“I’m not totally sure. Estimates range from three hundred thousand to more than twice that.”

He whistled and she grinned at him.

“I know, right?” she said. “Renovations like these aren’t cheap.”

“I can see that.”

“And on top of the materials and labor, I’d also have to buy a lot more in terms of equipment and supplies – if I have people using this space, they have to be
doing
something in it, right?”

“And you’d need more staff.”

“Yep. More staff, more insurance, more permits. So you see that the total cost is pretty high.” She looked around. “When we first met at Dangerous Curves, I mentioned that I have a five-year plan, right? Well, this is it. I want to have every available inch of space at my disposal up and running and useful in five years. It’s my dream, actually.”

“Ambitious.”

“Yeah, but also possible, with Jax’s help.” She glanced at him shyly. “And with yours.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” And he really was, he discovered. He loved the idea of Naomi’s dreams coming true, and he made up his mind right there and then to do his damndest to make sure that they did. She was the kind of woman who deserved good things to happen to her, for her. King was taken aback at how important it was to him that she be happy.

I want this for her, badly…I’m going to make her happiness my priority.

OK, whoa. Just where the hell is
this
all coming from, man?

“So.” She smiled up at him, and he stared at her, amazed all over again at her natural beauty. “Coffee in my office? We can go over the budget in more detail?”

“Sure,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire. “Sounds good.”

He walked behind her, admiring the way the snug denim cupped her gorgeous ass. She was all ripe, lush curves and golden glow and she took his fucking breath away. He wondered how old she was: while her skin was clear and almost free of lines, her eyes had a certain weary, wary knowledge deep in them. They were the eyes of a woman who’d seen some tough things and who’d been hurt – but not hardened or embittered – by them.

King wanted to know what those things had been, and he wanted to know how she’d managed to get through them without losing her faith in people. He wanted to hear about her hidden depths and her reserves of strength – he knew she had them. But most of all, he wanted to make her happy, and he thought she could make him happy, too.

Naomi Abbott. You’re a game-changer, honey, even if you don’t know it yet.

**

Sarah opened her eyes, unbalanced and disoriented. She blinked at the painting on the wall and realized that she was at home, in the bedroom that she shared with Jax. She had literally no memory of coming back from the Heart Center and that made her panic. She gave a small whimper of confusion, sat up quickly.

“Hey.” Jax was lying down behind her. “You’re OK, baby. I’m right here.”

“Jax.” She looked at him over her shoulder. “What – how did I get here?”

“You fell asleep in the truck on the way home. I carried you in.”

“I did? You did?”

“Yeah. You’ve been out for almost four hours.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.” He stroked her tumbled red curls off her face. “You’re pushing yourself way too hard with the physio and handling all this stuff with Naomi. Just – just stay still and breathe for a minute, alright?”

She turned to face him and cuddled down in to his arms. She rested her forehead against his broad chest, felt his steady heartbeat under her fingertips. “I was so scared when I woke up and had no memory of getting here… I thought that I was starting to forget new things, too.”

His arms tightened around her. “You didn’t forget anything, doll.”

“OK.” She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “OK.”

He made small circles on her still-tense back. “You were so wiped out, it worried me a bit. Was last night too much? I was too hard on you?”

Sarah pulled back and gave him a shining, wicked smile. They had made love the night before, for the first time in more than two months, and it had been nothing less than incredible. Exhausting, for sure, but it was that amazing exhaustion that only Jax made her feel: he left her limp and sated, but still craving him, still hungering for more. No matter how many times he took her, there was no such thing as enough of him, no such thing as too much from him.

She saw the worry on his handsome face, though, so she kissed him. “No. You were perfect last night.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She slowly ran her foot up the side of his leg. “The whole night was perfect.”

Jax grinned now. “It was, wasn’t it?”

“Mmm-hmmm.” She made that low, throaty sound that she knew he loved. Sure enough, those dark green eyes sparked in to flame. “What time are you going to Curves tonight?”

“I have about two hours.”

“Two, huh?”

“Yep.” His hand was tracing the curve of her generous hip now. “Why are you asking?”

“Oh, no reason. Just wondering if you want to make the first part of
this
evening perfect too.”

“What did you have in mind, Red?” he asked, his voice husky.

“Maybe I can show you?” She pressed her palm against the front of his jeans. “It would help things quite a bit if you took these off, though, Stud.”

“Oh, God, baby.” Jax groaned as she rubbed herself against his hardness. “Yes. Show me.”

**

King made eye contact with Tex and Honey. They were watching the warehouse closely and he saw their wariness even from thirty feet away.

Yeah, I'm with you, guys. This is all wrong.

"King?" Knox's voice in his earpiece was hushed. "You there?"

"Yeah," he muttered. "You and Tank in position?"

"Copy that."

"What do you see?"

A short pause. "Nothing much. No guard at the door, no cameras. The van is in the garage and the door is fucking wide open."

"Who the hell leaves the getaway vehicle in plain sight like that?" King said. "This is fucking amateur hour, man. No way these are the same people who took the kid from the hospital. That was textbook."

"No shit. Whoever these guys are, they're just the babysitters."

King looked at his watch. "OK. We move in two and on my mark. Knox, you and Tank take the front, Honey and Tex take the side. You clear my way and I'll retrieve the package. Guys?"

"Copy, boss," Honey said. "We got it."

"And as tempting as it is to shoot these fuckers in the head, refrain for the moment," King said. "These boys aren't the ones we really want, but they have to know something. Maybe we'll be able to persuade them to talk before we bring in the cops."

His team murmured their assent, then fell silent. King stared at the back door some more, pondering his next few moves. No way to tell for sure where Freddie Karr was, but he was determined to find him. King just hoped it was in one piece and still sucking in air.

For just one second, he allowed himself to think about Pete and Jillian Karr; their pale, stricken faces had haunted his dreams for the past week. Despite not being wealthy people, they'd hired King's Men after almost a week of cooperating with the police. The cops were doing their best, but Freddie was the eighth newborn to go missing from hospitals all over Colorado in the past four months, and they were simply overwhelmed by false leads and mired in jurisdictional red tape.

King's Men had no such issues. They gave finding that baby their full attention and they didn't worry about treading carefully around the local PD egos and politics. There were huge advantages to being private contractors and that included calling their own fucking shots.

"OK," King said. "Tex and Honey, go."

"Roger that."

Flat on his stomach, King watched as they approached the side door, guns drawn. Tex tried the door and looked stunned when it was actually unlocked. He and Honey shook their heads and King did too. What kind of fucking kidnappers were this careless? Stupid ones, for damn sure, but also unprofessional, overconfident ones. He very much hoped that all these things would work against them now. Arrogant meant unprepared, in King's experience, and that was something he'd be happy to exploit.

"We're in," Honey said.

"Anyone?"

"No. But we hear them. They're close to the front."

"Excellent. Tank and Knox, go in hot on my mark. Anyone tries to get out the side doors, Honey and Tex, you shoot 'em in the fucking knees. I'll handle the back."

"With pleasure," Tex growled.

"I'm moving now," King said. "Wait for my green."

"Got it, boss," Tank said. "Waitin'."

He ran to the back of the building, alert and aware of everything. He got to the door and was mildly surprised to find it locked, but it was an old-fashioned key lock and he flicked it open in less than twenty seconds. He eased the door open, stood back. No movement inside, no noise, so he ducked in quickly.

"I'm in," he said quietly. "Go."

He heard the blast as Tank blew the front door clean off its hinges with his shotgun, heard the panicked voices and shouting. Moving now, moving towards the chaos, he came face-to-face with a man. The little prick blinked in shock and raised his gun.

Without a second of hesitation, King shot him in the hand. The man howled and dropped the gun, and King was on him. He smashed his head in to the floor and the man went still.

"Asshole," King muttered and got to his feet again. He stuck the man's gun in the waistband of his jeans –
never know when a spare might come in handy
– and crept down the hallway.

The shooting was much louder now, and he heard his people shouting commands to stand still and drop weapons. From the sound of Tex's roars, these idiots weren't such great listeners and King grinned when he heard the unmistakable sound of fists on flesh and bone. It was ugly in there, no doubt about that, but that wasn't King's concern. His people were handling the kidnappers and he had to find that baby.

I'm coming, kiddo. You just hang in there
.

He moved faster, checking every room, every corner. The fact that Freddie wasn't crying after all that noise was worrying; King hoped that whatever drugs they'd given him weren't too strong. They had some supplies here and Knox could handle basic medical shit, but none of his team were real doctors.

There was one closed door at the very end of the hall and he approached it carefully, sure that this was where Freddie was. He listened, heard nothing inside, turned the handle, flung the door open. It rebounded off the wall and he stepped aside, expecting a blast of gunfire, but absolutely nothing happened.

They left the baby alone? Goddammit, these guys are morons and I truly look forward to having a word with them
.

There was a filthy bundle on the floor and King's heart actually stopped when he saw a tiny hand peeking out from the blankets. He kicked the door closed behind him and locked it, holstered his gun and ripped off the kevlar. He crossed the room in three paces and fell to his knees next to the baby. Gently, so gently, he plucked Freddie from the stinking blankets and settled him against his chest.

"Hey, little man," he murmured. "Come on now... make a sound for me, OK?"

Freddie's face was scarily pale, his breathing deep and slow. King felt his pulse, noticing how huge his fingers were on the baby's delicate neck; it was sluggish and he felt his own heart rate spike with worry.

"Guys?" he said. "We clear?"

"Clear," Tank said. "Me and Honey just did a sweep. We're good."

"I'm coming out now. I've got him."

Sighs of relief were breathed in his ear and he opened the door slowly, nodded when he saw Tex standing there.

"How is he?" Tex said.

"Drugged."

Tex clenched his hands. "Can we kick their fucking heads in now?"

"Yep. I was just thinking the same thing. And call in that ambulance."

"Copy that, boss."

King walked in to a large room. It stank of cigarettes and booze and he was shocked, yet again, at the stupidity at play here. No professional got drunk on the job, and he eyed the four bleeding men with more than his usual rancor. He cradled Freddie closer, wanting the baby to feel his body heat and hear his heart, even if he was so far under that he didn't even know to cry.

"What the fuck did you give him?" King heard the fury in his own voice. "No dicking around now, boys."

They looked down and away, and King narrowed his eyes at them.

"Knox?" He was quiet now. "Take him, yeah? Check him?"

Knox took Freddie from his arms and everyone watched as he tenderly laid the tiny, limp body on Tank's coat. Knox checked his breathing, listened to his heart, lifted his eyelids. The whole time, King kept his eyes nailed on the four men.