Mission: Irresistible (13 page)

He slowed the Volvo.

The Focus decelerated.

Harrison navigated down a narrow side street.

Here came the compact Ford, practically kissing his bumper.

No doubt about it. Not only were they being followed, but the driver didn’t care if they knew it.

Harrison crept along, analyzing the situation. Obviously, the person behind the wheel of the Focus wanted him to pull over.

Why?

He edged over to the curb. The Focus followed suit.

“What’s happening? Why are you stopping?”

“I’m finding out who’s following us and why.”

His pulse kaboomed in his ears. After their conversation about the Minoan Order, he was feeling a little jumpy.
Get over it, Standish.

They weren’t being followed by members of some ancient cult desperate to get their hands on the ancient scroll. No way. It was too incredible. No matter how hot Cassie’s brain got.

So who was following them?

His mind jumped to the thought of carjackers and highway robbers. Or maybe it had something to do with Adam’s disappearance. Maybe he had taken money from mobster loan sharks to finance his dig and he hadn’t paid them back and they’d been watching the crate, waiting for someone to pick it up.

Outlandish, yes. Impossible? Considering his brother, no. But far more believable than a killer secret brotherhood sect.

Stop with the speculation. Make a move, doober. You’re not going to discover anything while cowering in the car.

Right.

“Here.” He twisted a key off his key ring and handed it her. “Get the papyrus scroll from the backseat and lock it in the glove compartment.”

Cassie did as he asked, retrieving the sheepskin-wrapped bundle, stowing and locking it in the glove compartment. She gave the key back to him.

He reached down at the side of the driver’s seat and thumbed open the trunk release latch.

“Are you nuts?” Her eyes widened and her voice shot up an octave. “What if they have a gun?”

“I imagine that is a possibility.”

He looked in the rearview mirror. The Ford Focus had not switched off its headlamps. The beams bounced off the mirror, momentarily blinding him.

Harrison could not tell how many people were in the car. It could be one person. It could be four or even more. He had no idea what they were up against.

“This isn’t good.” Cassie ferociously rubbed the back of her head. “My head is blazing. There’s going to be serious trouble. Just drive away, Harry.”

“And let them follow us home?” he said. “No thank you.”

“I don’t scare easily, Harry.” She grasped his arm. “But I’m scared now. This doesn’t feel right. Don’t do it.”

“Cassie.” He met her gaze.

“Uh-huh.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

He was startled to see exactly how scared she was. Her hands were trembling and her mouth was pressed into a thin, anxious line. His gut twisted. He would protect her, no matter what.

“When I get out of the car, I want you to slide behind the wheel, hit the automatic door locks, and drive immediately to the nearest police station. Do you understand?”

“I don’t like this. Don’t go.”

“I refuse to be intimidated by common thugs.”

“What if it’s not common thugs? What if they’re uncommon thugs? Like members of the Wannamakemecomealots.”

He almost laughed at the way she mispronounced the name, but he didn’t want to bruise her feelings. “There’s no such thing. That cult no longer exists.”

“Are you sure?”

“Right now, I’m not sure of anything.”

“Whoever it is could hurt you,” she said breathlessly. “My head’s never burned this bad. Not even when I was in the rehab hospital.”

“Yeah, well.” He was trying hard to ignore the twinge of sympathy that sparked whenever he imagined sweet little nine-year-old Cassie in a rehab hospital. “That’s why I popped the trunk. I’ll use the tire iron as a weapon.”

“What if they overpower you?” She laid a hand on his shoulder.

Was that concern in her eyes? Was she worried about his safety? Her touch struck a chord inside him, and then he felt stupid letting himself get so embroiled.

Stay calm, stay cool, stay detached from your feelings.

“That’s why you’re going to drive to the nearest police station as soon as I get the tire iron out of the trunk.”

“I won’t go off and leave you to fight them alone.”

“You can and you will.”

She lifted her hand from his shoulder to caress his cheekbone. Her fingers found the small scar he’d acquired playing Zorro with Adam when they were kids. Harrison’s heart knotted. If she only knew how hard his knees were quaking, that venerating expression in her eyes would quickly disappear. He found it so much easier facing the unknown physical menace outside the car than intimate tenderness inside the Volvo.

Unable to deal with her admiration for his imaginary courage, he ducked his head and fumbled for the door handle.
Round the back of the Volvo, shove up the trunk lid, grab the tire iron, and start swinging.

“Harry?”

“Uh-huh?” He hesitated.

“Take this with you.”

“Wha—”

But that was as far as he got because Cassie unsnapped her seat belt, leaned across the console, and planted a kiss on his scarred cheek.

He was so startled that he jerked his head toward her, and her mouth slipped from his cheek to his lips.

The next thing he knew he was kissing her.

Full on.

It was hot and wet and moving.

For one endless second Harrison forgot about the Ford Focus parked behind him. He forgot about the Minoan hieroglyphics. He forgot about Solen and Kiya. He forgot about the amulet. He even forgot about Adam.

Whereas before there was danger, now there was nothing but pleasure. His full attention was focused on one thing and one thing alone.

Cassie Cooper’s mouth.

Lush and full and ripe and sweet. She tasted of summer. Throbbing and heated and humid. Filled with life and intensity and drama.

He remembered swimming pools and lounging on the beach, smelled chlorine and suntan lotion. He thought of the Fourth of July, heard bottle rockets scream and Black Cats explode. He saw fireflies flickering through pecan trees, and he spied charcoal embers glowing white-hot in the bottom of a barbecue grill.

It all added up to a glorious
wow
.

His mouth sizzled as Cassie’s tongue glided over his lips. Wow, wow, wow, wow.

Harrison floated. Caught, trapped, besieged. He was suspended in another time zone, another dimension, an alternate reality. Everything ceased to exist except the taste and shape of Cassie’s mouth.

An eternity drifted past his consciousness, but rationally he knew it had been no more than a couple of seconds. He coped with the emotional impact the only way he knew how—by narrowing his focus and attempting to retreat into the sanctuary of his mind.

But it didn’t work. He could not isolate his mind from his body. His penis hardened and his mouth moistened and his toes curled.

Pull away, pull away.

But he could not.

He reacted violently against his natural instincts. Something about her tugged at a long-denied, subterranean part of his psyche. Harrison flung himself into the kiss, restless, agitated, forgetful, crazed.

More, more, more.

His mind sped up. His anxieties flamed. Her lips were the single distraction from his escalating uneasiness. Where had his mind gone? Where was the essence of him? Where was Harrison Jerome Standish in all this?

Resist her! Resist her! Remember your mission.

Ah, but she was irresistible.

Her lips were wicked, her tongue even more so. Nibbling, licking, tasting, teasing.

Panic seized him, but Harrison was unable to fight off the very cause of his alarm.

His unquenchable desire for Cassie.

And then a fist knocking hard against his window slammed him straight back down to reality.

A rush of protectiveness, so strong he could taste the briny poignancy, suffused him. He had to shield Cassie. He’d gotten her into this mess; it was his responsibility to extract her.

It was so deeply ingrained in him to mentally disconnect from his body’s physical response that he couldn’t help himself. He was barely aware that his limbs had gone rigid and his hands were curled into fists.

He jerked his head toward the driver’s-side window, fully expecting to see either a knife-wielding carjacker or a brass-knuckle-wearing loan shark, or, bizarrely enough, members of the Minoan Order, their faces hidden behind Minotaur masks.

When instead he saw the smiling caramel-colored face of the
Star-Telegram
reporter who’d attended the Kimbell party, Harrison exhaled in surprise and rolled down the window.

“Hiya,” the reporter said, waggling her fingers at him in a friendly wave.

“Hi.” He smiled weakly.

“Remember me? I’m Lashaundra Johnson.”

“Yes?”

“I know who stole the amulet.”

“Pardon?” Harrison had detached his mind so completely from his body that he was having trouble processing what the woman was saying. She repeated herself.

“You know who stole the amulet?”

“Uh-huh.” She bobbed her head. “I already figured it out.”

“Who?”

“Cleopatra. The thin one. Not her.” Lashaundra nodded at Cassie.”

“What?” He had no idea why this woman was hanging on to the side of his car and babbling nonsense.

Cassie leaned over to whisper in his ear. “She’s talking about the murder mystery theater.”

Oh. He’d forgotten all about that.

“Yep,” Lashaundra went on. “She doesn’t want Solen and Kiya reunited ’cause she wants Solen’s handsome bod for herself. I’m thinking old Cleo might even have stabbed the mummy as well, but I haven’t quite figured out why or how. I don’t trust her. She’s too damned skinny. My mama always told me never trust a bony woman. They’re just too hungry.”

“Amen, sister,” Cassie mumbled.

Harrison’s pulse, which had jackhammered into the red zone when Lashaundra rapped on the window, dipped back to normal.

“So am I right?” Lashaundra asked. “It’s the skinny bitch, isn’t it? She’s the thief.”

“Sorry,” Harrison said. “You’ll have to wait until Saturday to find out.”

“You won’t even give me a hint?” Lashaundra gazed beseechingly at Cassie. “I’ve been following you guys around all night looking for a clue.”

Cassie shook her head. “It wouldn’t be fair to the others.”

“Dammit,” Lashaundra said. “Well, I figured it was worth a shot.”

“I’ll walk you back to your car, Ms. Johnson,” Harrison offered, plus he had to shut the trunk. “You shouldn’t be out alone at this time of the night.”

“Okay,” Lashaundra agreed. “I’ll let you.”

Harrison opened the door to get out and the dome light came on. That’s when he got a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror. His right cheek was branded with the imprint of Cassie’s lipstick.

Perfect lips, sealed with a kiss. A stark reminder of how he had lost control.

He reached up to guiltily swipe the imprint away with a hand. The lipstick came off, but he could not so casually erase the taste of Cassie from his tongue or rid the smell of her from his nose or eliminate the primal stirrings in his body.

As he walked Lashaundra to her car, he mentally berated himself.
Kissing Cassie was a huge mistake. You will not let it happen again.

What a mess!

He was stuck with Cassie until Saturday night, and yet it was almost impossible to resist her. He had to find a way. There could not be a repeat performance of what had happened in the car. He’d been so swept up by their passion for one another that if it had been a loan shark or a carjacker or even, as laughable as it seemed, a member of the Minoan Order at his window instead of the
Star-Telegram
reporter, both he and Cassie could be dead at this very moment.

From now on, for the duration of their time together, it was totally hands off. No matter what the sacrifice might cost.

CHAPTER 10

K
eep your lips to yourself. Absolutely, positively no more kissing Harrison Standish.

Because when his mouth had landed on hers and his tongue had skimmed along her lips and her pulse had knocked with anticipation, Cassie realized she was traversing a paper-thin ledge in six-inch stilettos.

Tightrope act deluxe.

Her stomach quivered and her hands shook. Her brain scorched hot and her lungs squeezed breathlessly out of control. All the wonderful sensations she loved rained over her. It felt like romance, and nothing got Cassie into trouble quicker than the thrill of the chase.

She couldn’t risk pursuing this feeling. There was too much at stake. Her job. Harrison’s future. Maybe even Adam’s life. They had to stay focused on the mystery. They couldn’t afford the distraction of attraction.

They drove in silence. He kept both hands on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the road, unaware of what she was thinking, oblivious to the excitement throbbing inside her.

Maybe, she thought, her precognitive brain burn had nothing to do with outside danger and everything to do with Harrison. Perhaps he was the threat.

They were inhaling the same air, sharing the same closed, dark space. He had never looked as sexy to her as he did right now. He’d been prepared to risk life and limb to protect her. Underneath the glasses and the mismatched clothes beat the heart of a hero.

Don’t go there. Don’t romanticize the dude. Remember how much he gets on your nerves? Just think about his dirty socks on your kitchen table.

Socks, smocks. Who cared about socks when a bona fide hero was driving her home?

And the very fact that he was so smart and private and respectful and he’d kissed her like he really meant it was a total turn-on. She’d never been with a brainy guy before, and she wriggled joyously at the thought of bedding him.

“You okay?”

“Uh-huh.” She forced herself not to squirm. She could not let him know how much he affected her. She might have the hots for him, but she wasn’t about to hand him that much power.