Hot on Her Heels (6 page)

“Does that bother you?” she asked. Izzy had said Nick had been emotionally devastated by what had happened and blamed himself. Did Garth?

“I didn't set out to kill them, if that's what you mean.
I'm sorry it happened. We made an honest mistake. Knowing what I know now…” he hesitated “…it would be different, but life isn't that tidy. We don't get a do-over.”

“Do you want a do-over with Nick?”

His gaze sharpened. “The question of the day.”

Garth had used his best friend to get to Izzy. Nick hadn't known what was going on and when he figured out he was being played, he had been furious.

“You have to have regrets,” she said. “Nick was your best friend.”

“I made a tactical error.”

“Stop being such a guy,” she snapped. “It wasn't an error. You set up Nick to hurt Izzy. Then you completely miscalculated the fact that they were falling in love with each other. You expected Nick to side with you instead of Izzy and when he didn't, you got angry. You lost a friend. A good friend.”

“You don't need me here to have this conversation,” he told her. “You're doing fine all on your own.”

“More guy-speak. You lost Nick and now you're sorry. Was it worth it?”

“What do you think?”

His expression was unreadable, but she could feel his pain as if it were her own. He was strong, powerful and dangerous. But he was also alone. He had no one. His mother was as much of a responsibility as a small child. He'd set himself on a course to destroy his father and alienate his sisters. It was a battle of one against the world.

A battle he could never win, because even in winning he would lose.

Oddly enough, that made her want to go to him. Part of her wanted to tell him that everything would be all right. Which made her stupid, or at the very least confused.

“I suppose you'll ignore me if I tell you to apologize,” she said. “That saying you regret what happened might go a long way to healing things with Nick.”

“I might listen if you tell me naked.”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you really think a comment like that will distract me?”

“It's worth a try.”

“You need a better game plan. I'm not your average bimbo.”

“I don't date bimbos. Marly was a Rhodes Scholar.”

“Then what was she doing with you?”

“Use your imagination.”

“Doesn't being on the defense all the time get exhausting?” she asked.

“I'll answer that question when you do.”

Oh. Right. That was kind of her thing.

They looked at each other. He'd taken off his jacket when he'd first walked into the penthouse. Before dinner he'd rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. Now he pulled off his tie and tossed it onto the table next to him.

The act was nothing. His fingers unfastened the knot at his throat, then he pulled the length of fabric
free and threw it to the side. Yet the movement was unbelievably sexy and masculine. It made her think about undoing buttons and hands on bare skin. It made her want to squirm and reach and get lost in whatever magic Garth possessed. It made her want to be taken—an ironic longing considering she never allowed herself to lose control. To be taken, one had to surrender. Something she would never do.

“Dana?”

She blinked slowly. Time for another subject change. Dining with the man was not particularly restful.

“Izzy's serious about her plan,” she said. “Whether you're willing or not, she's determined to have you in the family.”

“Let me guess. They're going to love me into submission.”

“If that's what it takes.”

“Is that what happened with you?”

“They're my friends and my family. They have been for years. There are worse places to be.”

“I'm not a family kind of guy.”

“You don't know that. You've been on your own since you were fourteen. Maybe you should give this a try.”

He poured her more wine. “Because you're so concerned about my well-being?”

“Not really, but if you do start to think about them as your sisters, you'll stop attacking them. And that's
what I want. You know they're innocent in all this. Admit it. Move on.”

“They're lucky to have you.”

“And I'm lucky to have them.”

And with those words once again came the reminder that Garth had no one. He faced his demons alone. Fate and Jed Titan had conspired against him, leaving him solitary and angry.

“I should go,” she said, pushing away from the table and standing.

She expected him to make a joke about her staying again, but he didn't. Which was how she wanted things—at least that's what she told herself.

He followed her to the front door, then shifted so he was between her and the handle. She found herself staring into his eyes.

He was taller than her, with broader shoulders and plenty of muscle. Intensely male. If she had to overpower him, she would need surprise on her side, and possibly a solid two-by-four.

“I, ah, thanks for dinner,” she murmured, feeling uncomfortable. This felt
way
too much like a date, which it wasn't.

“You're welcome. Tex-Mex next time?”

“Sure.”

She tried to inch around him, but he wasn't moving. And she couldn't seem to push him out of the way. Well, she could, of course, but it would be awkward, especially if he resisted. She should just say good
night then stand there looking expectant. He would figure it out and move aside.

But as she opened her mouth to speak, he took a step toward her. Before she could move back, he reached up and lightly stroked the side of her face with the back of his fingers.

The unexpected contact glued her to the floor. She couldn't run, couldn't turn, couldn't do anything but stand there feeling helpless and exposed. As if he had the power to control her.

She told herself he didn't. He would never hurt her and should he try, she could nail him in the balls, draw her gun and change him from a stallion to a gelding in two seconds.

If she had to.

His dark eyes stared into hers. She had no idea what he saw there, but she hoped it wasn't anything he could use against her. Despite his slow, gentle touch, she felt tense inside. What was he doing and why?

She told herself to step away, to push past him and get the hell out. But her body didn't respond to the command and then he said the most extraordinary thing.

“Your mouth drives me crazy.”

She'd barely had time to absorb the words before he lowered his head and pressed his mouth against hers.

The good news was he stopped touching her face. The bad news was they were kissing.

The second she felt his lips on hers, it was as if
someone had set the world on fire. There was heat and need and fiery sparks she could see even with her eyes closed. There was no contact anywhere else, which was fine with her. This was enough. Actually it was too much.

Her skin practically sizzled. She would swear she could hear music and feel the floor tilting. She wanted to throw her arms around him, pull him against her and shove her tongue in his mouth. She wanted to be naked, pressed up against the wall, being taken hard and fast until she screamed her surrender.

Dana reached out both hands, shoved him back and sucked in a breath. She'd never screamed in her life. She barely allowed herself to breathe hard. What the hell was going on?

Not that she planned to find out. She ducked around him, heading for the door, only Garth got there first. He grabbed her arm and held her still. She could have broken free easily, only she didn't and that scared her more than anything else.

“Wait,” he said.

“No.”

Something hot flared in his eyes. “You felt it, too.”

“I didn't feel anything. It's late. I need to go.”

“It's barely eight and you need to be here.”

She hated the fear. It reminded her of being young and terrified of what her father would do next. It made her feel powerless and that was the worst thing of all.

Her emotions must have shown on her face or Garth
was a hell of a guesser because he dropped her arm and moved away from the door.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “You're right. It's late.”

He picked up her hand and kissed her palm. It was as if he branded her. She knew in her gut she would carry the feel of his lips on her skin with her forever. When he released her, she curled her fingers closed.

She hesitated for a second, then turned to leave.

This time he didn't stop her. She walked out into the hallway and the door closed behind her. She stood there, alone, aching with desire for the one man she could never have. Life, as always, had a killer sense of humor.

 

T
HE NEXT MORNING
D
ANA
followed Garth to work, but didn't try to speak with him. She hadn't slept much the night before and wasn't up to one of their cryptic exchanges. Once she knew he was at the office, she returned to Titanville, thinking she would either try for a nap, or a really jumbo coffee to go.

But on her way to Starbucks, she passed the Titanville Pet Palace and saw Kathy Duncan entering the store.

Fifteen minutes later, Dana parked in front of the Pet Palace with her own coffee and a latte for Kathy, then went inside. She nodded to the young woman at the cash register and made her way to the rear where Kathy was talking softly to a large white bird.

“Good morning,” Dana said, handing over the coffee.

Kathy, a pretty woman in her late fifties, smiled broadly. “Dana. You came to see me. Thank you for the coffee.”

There was delight in her voice, along with a studied slowness. As if every word had to be considered before it was spoken and the act of speech itself was vaguely unfamiliar.

“You're welcome.” Dana passed over the paper cup. “Extra foam. Just the way you like it.”

“I do like it.” Kathy tilted her head, her soft brown hair falling over her shoulder. “You need a pet. Not today. You're not ready. But soon. Maybe a puppy, but you need a yard first. Don't worry. You'll get one.”

Dana did her best not to run screaming into the morning. Kathy was known to have an extraordinary sense about people and pets, putting unlikely pairs together. She'd insisted Lexi take home a kitten. Lexi had agreed with the idea, thinking she would give the animal away. But somehow that hadn't happened and C.C. was as much a member of her family as Izzy or Skye.

“I'm not really a dog person,” Dana said. “I'm not home very much.”

“You will be,” Kathy said calmly. “When you have children.”

Dana resisted the need to make the sign of the cross and instead took a step back.

“Okay, then,” Dana muttered. “Ah, how are things?”

“Good. We have new birds. Not that you want one.” Kathy smiled. “But they're very pretty.”

Dana smiled back, searching Kathy's face for a hint of the woman who had existed before the tumor that had stolen her intellect. She looked for whispers of Garth. What had he inherited from his mother? If those echoes had left her, were they still in her son?

How could this all have been different? If Jed had agreed to pay for the surgery back before the need was so desperate, would Kathy still be herself? And if she was, how would Garth be a different man? Dana knew the need for revenge had changed him. Once he had won, would he change back? Or was he forever trapped by the need to exact compensation for a debt that could never be repaid?

D
ANA SPENT ANOTHER NIGHT
doing more tossing than sleeping. Shortly after five, she gave up the pretense and got in the shower. Twenty minutes later, she'd driven to Garth's condo, mostly to pass the time. She had to follow him to work, anyway. Maybe a couple of quiet hours in her car would relax her.

She parked where she could see the exit from the underground parking garage, tuned into her favorite talk radio and leaned back in her seat. She'd just gotten comfortable and was talking back to the radio host when a familiar BMW pulled out of the garage. A BMW that Garth had only purchased a couple of weeks ago.

Even as she started the engine and began to follow him, she checked her watch. It was barely six. He didn't leave for his office until seven. What the hell? He
knew
she would be escorting him to and from work, as she had all week. He'd never complained, never tried to avoid her. Until today. So where exactly was he going so early in the morning?

Not work, she thought a few minutes later as he
ignored his usual turn and headed for the freeway. Bastard, she thought grimly, following him close enough that he could easily see her. Just let him try to shake her.

But he didn't try, nor did he acknowledge her. Instead he drove to a private airfield and parked. She pulled in next to him.

“Where are you going?” she asked as she got out of her car. She got a look at him and nearly lost her train of thought.

Instead of the usual custom suit, he wore jeans, boots and a white shirt, all of which looked really good on him.

“I have to take a trip,” he said. “I'll be back this afternoon.”

“Don't for a second think I'm not coming with you.”

He looked her up and down, as if he really imagined he had a choice in the matter.

She knew he'd left an hour early deliberately to give her the slip. She wanted to complain that he should play by the rules, but there weren't any. She was tailing him to annoy him. That hardly made them friends.

The complication was Garth wasn't quite as horrible as she'd first thought. There was also the issue of the kiss, but this wasn't the time to bring that up.

“You'll need a passport,” he said. “Sorry, that's not my rule. It's a government thing. I'd offer to wait while you go home and get it, but we both know I'd be lying.”

She opened her purse, unzipped the concealed com
partment in the back and pulled out her passport. “Anything else?”

His expression didn't change, so she couldn't tell if he was pissed or not. As her understanding of him was confused by her reaction to him, she couldn't make a guess, either.

“You'll need a gun.”

She didn't doubt he was very aware that her jurisdiction ended at the border. Did she want to be armed in a foreign country?

“I assume you have an extra,” she said.

“Only if you're prepared to use it.”

“To protect myself or you?”

“Either. I'm not expecting things to go that far, but I'm going in armed and if you're coming, you should be, too.”

“Where are we going?”

“Mexico.”

Across the border could be a fun and friendly place or it could be a war zone. It depended on their destination. Based on how serious Garth looked and his insistence that she be armed, she was going to guess they weren't heading for a resort.

“I'm prepared to use it,” she said.

He motioned to the steps of the private jet.

Five minutes later they were airborne.

Garth watched Dana buckle herself into a leather seat. She didn't look happy, not even when he passed her a case filled with handguns.

“You can pick first,” he told her.

“Don't do me any favors.” She picked up three different guns before picking a .45 caliber Glock. “You have extra magazines?”

“Underneath the gun.”

She raised the false bottom of the case and pulled out the extra magazine for the Glock. After checking the gun to make sure that magazine was full, she put both on the seat beside her.

She looked annoyed. He wasn't sure if she was pissed that he'd tried to leave without her or that he was handing out weapons. Maybe both.

“You want some coffee?” he asked, walking toward the small galley in front. “Breakfast?”

She followed him and peered over his shoulder at the pot of coffee heating and the insulated boxes of food.

“There's no flight attendant, so we'll have to serve ourselves,” he told her. “I didn't want anyone along who wasn't necessary.”

“I must have been an unwelcome arrival,” she said, pushing him out of the way and opening the box.

There were containers of scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage. Hash browns, toast and a warm fruit compote. In a separate insulated container was milk, juice, sliced fruit and several Danish.

“You do know how to travel in style,” she murmured. “Are there plates?”

He pointed to a cupboard above the tiny counter.

“Do the pilots eat?” she asked.

“Not usually. They'll come back and get coffee when they want it.”

She pulled out all the food and set it on the counter. They each filled their plates, then carried them back to the leather seats.

“You were up early,” he said. “How'd you know I was leaving?”

“I didn't. I got lucky.” She glared at him over her breakfast. “You tried to leave without me.”

“Yes.”

“We have rules.”

“No, we don't.”

Her brown eyes were bright with annoyance, her skin flushed. She looked like a woman ready to take him on. Normally he would welcome the challenge, but this morning he had a lot on his mind.

“We do now,” she snapped. “You don't go anywhere without telling me.”

That made him chuckle. “Because you're going to make me?”

“I'll do what I have to.”

He was letting her hang around because she was a conduit to his sisters. Information flowed both ways, whether Dana recognized that or not. If he needed to set them up, she would be the method. Although that seemed less and less likely. He also allowed Dana to stay close because he enjoyed her company.

She was tough and strong, but still relatively naive.
He would guess for all her bravado, she didn't have the instinct to go for the cheap shot. His instincts had been honed while being held and tortured in a South American jungle. He knew he would kill to survive. She hadn't been tested yet. Neither of them could know how she would react.

Oddly, a part of him wanted to make sure that didn't change. He wanted to ensure she was never that scared, that up against a wall. He wanted to keep her safe.

Travel light, he reminded himself. Caring only brought trouble. Nick had been an easy friend. Nick had understood and could take care of himself. But Dana would require things he didn't have to give.

“Dana, I'm cooperating because it suits me, nothing else. The day you get to be too big a pain in the ass is the day it all ends.”

“You don't scare me.”

“I'm not trying to. I'm making a point. I don't owe you or my sisters anything.”

Her mouth twisted. “You're wrong. You do owe them and you know it. You hurt them because of something Jed did. That isn't right. Now you have to make up for that.”

She sounded sincere. Did she actually believe that?

He looked at her. “Have we met? I'm Garth Duncan, ruthless bastard.”

She dug into her breakfast. “You're not all that.”

“Sure I am.”

The corners of her mouth tilted up in an almost-smile. “Oh, please. I'm so not impressed.”

She was lying, but he could live with that.

Once again she was dressed for comfort, not style. Jeans, a pullover shirt shapeless enough to hide every curve. Her boots looked worn and she wasn't wearing any makeup.

He was used to women who understood the power of a well-fitting skirt and just a flash of breast. Women who smelled like exotic flowers and sparkled with expensive jewelry. He guessed Dana didn't understand the appeal and if she did, she didn't care. He should have been able to dismiss her.

But he couldn't. Maybe before he'd kissed her, but not since. There had been an instant connection, a compelling heat. He enjoyed sex and took his pleasure easily. This wasn't about getting laid. It was about what he felt when she was in his arms. Hungry. Desperate.

Uncomfortable sensations for a man used to being in charge. Which meant he would have to tread carefully. He would have Dana, but on
his
terms.

They ate in silence. Dana finished first, then went and got a sticky Danish.

“Not counting calories?” he asked.

She licked frosting off her fingers. “Do I look like I need to?”

“No, but that is rarely why women do it.”

“I'm not that typical.”

“Yet my sisters are. How did you become friends with them?”

He thought she might avoid the question, but she finished her Danish, then picked up her coffee.

“I met Lexi first. We were in school together. I mostly played with the boys, but when I was ten or so, they stopped letting me hang out with them. The girls all got on my nerves. Too silly, I guess. I hated playing with dolls. But Lexi was different. Mostly she was by herself. Maybe it was being a Titan. The other kids thought she was different and she didn't know how to convince them otherwise. We both liked horses and reading. It was just the two of us until Skye and Izzy got older.”

There was more to the story, but he didn't press. He could fill in the details. How she would hate to go home because her father beat her. How Glory's Gate was big enough to hide in. How being friends with Jed Titan's daughter would be a measure of protection at home.

“Now they're my family,” she continued.

“Is that a warning?”

“It's a threat.”

He grinned. “Want to tie me up and punish me?”

“You wish.”

He glanced at his watch. “We'll be there in less than an hour. We should talk about the meeting and what to expect. Things should go smoothly, but if they don't we'll need a plan. Before I forget, there's a bulletproof vest in the back. Put it on.”

 

D
ANA FOLLOWED
G
ARTH OUT
of the jet onto the tarmac. The airport was little more than a strip of road in the
middle of nowhere. There were mountains in the distance, trees and grass nearby and the only sign of civilization was a small building a hundred yards away.

The structure was more shack than house, weatherworn. The wood had once been painted red and blue but most of the paint had flaked away. There were holes where windows had been, and several lizards scampered across the uneven boards.

The heat was oppressive, especially for November. She'd dressed for an overcast, cool day in Dallas. The vest she'd put on under her sweatshirt added a layer of heat that made her sweat. She had her gun in her hand and an extra magazine in her left front pocket.

She had no idea where they were, what they might be facing, and there was a chance she might have to shoot someone. That wasn't her favorite way to start a day.

She wasn't afraid, exactly, but she was on edge. Her senses were heightened. She knew exactly how many steps it would take to get back to the plane and how fast she could move at a dead run. Based on what she'd seen of his body, Garth would move faster, which was good for both of them. Of course, if they were running and someone was shooting at them, the person running behind was more likely to be shot. Something she didn't want to think about.

He checked his watch, then walked toward the building. There were no cars or trucks around, no signs of people, but she had the feeling they were being watched.

“You realize we're prime targets,” she said, keeping pace with him. “Out here in the open.”

“Where do you suggest we hide?”

His point was a good one. There was nothing but cement and grass between the jet and the building. Nowhere to crouch or take cover.

“Don't worry,” he added, waving the paper-wrapped package in his left hand. “This is a financial transaction. We'll be fine.”

“If that's an attempt to reassure me, it's not a good one. We're wearing bulletproof vests. That implies a certain amount of concern.”

“I'm a good customer. They have no reason to kill us.”

“So you've done this before?”

“Not so directly, but yes, I've used unconventional means to get information.”

She was carrying a damn gun and they were both wearing bulletproof vests and he considered this unconventional? She would have worded that a little more strongly.