Heart of Danger (2 page)

“I drove here,” she tried to stumble away from him.

“And you’re still too damn drunk to drive.”

Well he never was one to mince words. “I’ll take a cab.” She didn’t want him to take her home either—or maybe she did, but not while she was falling over drunk.

“Yeah, you do that—some other day,” he scowled down at her. “I’m taking you home.”

She looked back toward the door and she saw Jocelyn come out, looking perfect as usual. “Go back to your company,” she mumbled. “I can find my own way home.”

“I’ll take her, Micah.” Alex stepped up to the plate. He was always the nicest to her. They were all pretty nice, but Alex always seemed to get her. Jet and Preston were older, and forever focused on their missions, but Alex was the twenty-six year old kid who had done his tours and come out to work for Micah and the guys. Micah was the second in command even though the agency was his baby he handed leadership over to Preston because Preston had been his CO in the Air Force. Preston handed out the assignments and Jet, he was the best when it came to getting into and out of places unnoticed. They were all great, but the only one she was in love with was Micah.

“I got this,” Micah took hold of her upper arm. She was either going to walk or be dragged. “See that Jocelyn gets to her car all right please?”

“Sure man.” Alex yelled as Micah literally dragged her beside him. His long legs took the steps too fast, so angrily; she couldn’t keep up. Her shorter legs weren’t really going to make that pace. His five nine frame to her five foot frame was still a big enough difference to make her have to walk faster to keep up with his leisurely paced movements. On a good day she could handle that, but right now was not exactly one of those good days, and he was no longer walking at a leisurely pace. He was practically sprinting.

He reached his truck, yanking his keys out of his pocket and unlocking the door from the slender black remote on his key chain. He opened the door. “Get in.” He wasn’t asking her. He was telling her to. She got in, unsteadily so, and she felt his hand push against her butt as she almost fell back out while trying to get fully in. His hand felt so good there, so right, and she wanted him to put it back, but he didn’t. The moment she sat down he slammed the door shut, walked around to the other side and got in.

“Put your seatbelt on,” he started the truck and waited for her to comply. While she fumbled with the seatbelt he just sat there looking at her until, frustrated by her lack of coordination, he took the metal buckle from her and jabbed it into the other side. He put the truck in gear and pulled out hard and fast.

“What were you thinking? You can’t drink and you know that. Isn’t that what you always tell us?”

“I know,” she moaned. Her head was starting to hurt and it didn’t help that he was nearly yelling at her. She never drank because she knew the curse of the Bright women. None of them could handle even a sip. Her mother had told her before she went off to college to keep her lips off of anything with alcohol in it. “Remember what happened when your dad let you have a sip of his bourbon?” Yeah, she remembered, but she was ten at the time and she assumed that it went to her head because she shouldn’t have had it in the first place. It was her own fault because her dad was drinking something that she didn’t know what it was. She asked if she could have some and he just handed it to her. It was so nasty she didn’t have more than a sip and she spent the rest of the afternoon paying for it. “But just in case you forgot,” her mother had said. “Have some of this.” She gave her a fruity drink that tasted really good, but had her drunk as the cliché skunk within ten minutes. That was her mother’s going away to college gift to her. It was her way of reminding her that she couldn’t have even a sip, no matter how good the drink seemed it would always affect her the same way. So she didn’t drink—until tonight.

“What were you thinking, Natalia?”

“I was thinking I didn’t want to feel anymore.” She sighed as she turned her head away from him and immediately everything went black.

Micah pulled into her driveway. “Come on, where are your keys?” He shook her a little, but it was clear she was out like the proverbial light. “Where the hell could you possibly hide keys in that getup?”

His options were to search her, or to take her back to his place. He shook his head before searching to see if there were any pockets on that suit anywhere. They had come from work, but while they had shown up at the office prepared to go out that night, she had come in her standard suit ensemble with the stiletto heels. She had said she wasn’t going with them and they had assured her it was mandatory. Maybe they should have told her to bring somebody with her. They all had dates; even though Jet’s woman was working behind the bar she still came over and socialized when she could. Natalia was the odd number to their group outing and maybe they should have considered that.

“Thank you,” he whistled as he found her keys clipped to the belt underneath her suit jacket. “I’ll get the door and come back for you,” he told her. Not that she could hear him. He walked up the steps to the porch, opened her door and disarmed her alarm. He had the code because he had the code to all of their alarms. They all did, except for Natalia; she didn’t have alarm codes—none other than her own.

He stomped back down the stairs, opened the door on her side of the truck and pulled her out into his arms. She was passed out. He looked at her and shook his head. She was too innocent for this. How she made it through college without having something bad happen to her was beyond him—no, maybe it wasn’t. Natalia wasn’t a social butterfly. She probably never went out, never did the sorority thing, or the parties that they had on campus.

When he saw her dancing with that blond guy he had an acute sense of awareness to the fact that she wasn’t the wall flower they thought she was. She was shaking her behind, dancing provocatively as that bastard had his hands all over her. She was gyrating and moving like she was dancing with the love of her life. They all saw her. They all assumed she was just…well hell, they didn’t know what they assumed. They had taken their eyes off of her when the next song came on and when they looked back she wasn’t on the dance floor. When Charlie came over and told him that she had just gone out the door and that she’d had two vodka straights they knew she was in trouble.

“No more alcohol for you,” he put her down in her bed and then pulled off her shoes. “You’re going to have a whooper of a headache come morning.” He shrugged. “I hope you remember what happened so you don’t do anything that stupid again.”

She rolled onto her side, one leg bending and the other sticking straight out. The move caused her skirt to edge up her thighs, the soft fabric caressing her body while showing some of her pantyhose clad thighs.

He looked her over before shaking his head. He pulled a knitted blanket off the bedside chair and covered her. “I’ll take the couch,” he wasn’t sure he should leave her. He felt a need to protect her like he would protect a little sister. At least that’s what he told himself. She was like the sister he never had, or at least that’s what he thought until he felt the slow ache in his groin watching her dance tonight.

Micah kicked off his boots, pulled off his shirt and stretched out on her sectional. He picked up his cell phone on the first ring. “Yeah,” he grumbled.

“Did you get her home okay?”

“Alex, I swear I never took her serious when she said she couldn’t drink, but she can’t drink,” he lowered his voice. “She passed out. She’s in bed. I’m going to sleep on the couch tonight. I don’t want to leave her alone.”

“Good idea. Charlie says her car can stay overnight and we can pick it up in the morning.”

“Thanks, Alex.” He ended the call while thinking of Natalia.
 
Why had it taken her getting drunk for him to see her as a woman? She was thirty-two years old, but to a lot of people she looked underage. The older the viewer the younger they thought she was. Ages ranged from fourteen to eighteen, but nobody ever guessed thirty-two. She was small in frame and in stature. She was cute—until tonight that was all he would say, but tonight he had seen her differently. She was hot.

“Get over it,” he told himself as he stared up at her ceiling fan, the dark wooden blades seemed to stare right back at him. He was never attracted to short women, or really thin women. He liked his women in shape, but he also went for the d-cup, not the a-cup. Still, here he was remembering how her body moved on that dance floor and his dick didn’t seem to care that this was Natalia, small, petite, employee, not love interest. He had to expunge the memory from his mind because wanting her was not an option. “Dude,” he mumbled. “It’s Natalia.” Seriously, he had to get the image he had conjured up of her dancing with him like she wanted him to strip her right there on the dance floor and take her out of his mind. He had to stop thinking about her on that level because if he didn’t he was going to be in a world of trouble later. She wasn’t a dating option, and he had to keep reminding himself of that.

She felt him when he grabbed her from behind, pushing her up against the wall in the slender corridor. She could hear the music pumping, vibrating her body. “Micah,” she gasped as he pinned her hands above her head using one of his big hands to hold her wrist in place. Without asking, without hesitation he swooped in for a kiss, one hard, passionate kiss. His tongue demanded her attention, exploring her mouth, devouring every crevice. She felt his erection pressing into her body and she shifted, trying to get closer. Her back arched off the wall. He took his free hand and grabbed hold of her waist, pushing her back against the wall and squeezing hard as he plundered her mouth. She heard the sighs and moans as his hand explored her body while the music pumped hard.

His fingers dipped into the waistband of her jeans, sliding deeper, caressing her and rubbing against her until she was moaning for release. One long, thick finger slid inside of her, stroking her. Her muscles tightened around his digit and with one press of his thumb over her clit she came hard, exploding in his arms and beneath his touch. He pulled his mouth away from hers and looked into her eyes. “The next time he touches you, Natalia, remember I’m the one who made you feel like this.”

Micah stood at her bedroom door watching her. He wondered who she was dreaming about. He didn’t have to wonder what she was dreaming about because the way she was fisting those sheets, and the way her mouth was open on an exhale while she moaned, hell there was no mistaking what she was dreaming about.

It was her moans that had awakened him from the light sleep he was in. He went to check on her and that’s how he found her—coming in her dreams. Damn, she made the sexiest sounds. And when her hips arched off the bed while she gasped and moaned, fisting the sheets hard as she came, he wished he was the man making her come.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He tore himself away from her bedroom door. “She’s not yours. You don’t want her to be.” He paced the living room. “One damn dance can’t possibly make you this stupid. She’s not even your type.” His talk to himself wasn’t convincing his dick that it didn’t want to find a home inside of her. “Jesus!” He angrily pushed his hand through his short cut black hair. “You’re with Jocelyn. She’s your type. Big breasts, tall, smart,” he added the word smart to convince himself that it wasn’t all physical.

They had hit a rough patch on his search and rescue assignment. He had gone into Panama to find Jocelyn. Her father was a multi-billionaire with enemies on almost every continent. When his little girl—twenty-six year old—Jocelyn Crane had been abducted from the cruise ship on her Panama Canal cruise, the Squadron was the first team he called. Because of Micah’s extensive knowledge with the area it had been decided that he should go in alone, gather intelligence and get her out if possible, and if not, call for backup and the team would come in. They were already one man down because Jethro, a.k.a. Jet Jackson, was in Malaysia on his own search and rescue mission.

He had screwed up. He got caught trying to get her out and that hadn’t happened to him before. Now instead of being the rescuer he needed to be rescued himself. Two weeks shy of three months he had managed to escape with Jocelyn in tow, but getting out of the area where they had been taken wasn’t as easy. Thankfully he made it and with one phone call he had transport out. They got their fee, Mr. Crane got his little girl back, and he got a sexy woman to go out with. Yet right now his mind wasn’t on the woman he was dating.