Dangerous Protector (Aegis Group Book 5) (14 page)

If she had someone, if there was another person out there who’d have her back, maybe she could figure out a way. But it was just her. Marco had helped, he’d done so much for her, and she felt things for him, but in the end, he’d leave her. And she couldn’t live in a fantasy land where a hero saved her. If he did, she’d probably have to chew him out. Where’d he been back when things were worse? When Nova was wrecking her life? When she was scared to look out of a window for fear that someone had found her?

“Have you heard anything from your cousin?” She had to say something. The silence was getting on her last nerve.

“No.”

Well, so much for conversation.

She kept her eyes straight ahead. The smart thing to do would be to stew in silence, and go her own way once they were in Denver. This thing with NueEnergy was going to get messy, and if it got bad and the Marshalls moved her then…she couldn’t disappear with a man like Marco around. He’d have questions. He might not love her, he might not even want to stick around to be with her, but if she disappeared he’d remember her beyond this week.

Which meant she had to do the one thing she wasn’t good at.

She had to leave him.

It wasn’t normal for her to be the one to initiate a break-up. When she was all in, she was all in. No holding back, no second thoughts. If Scott hadn’t broken up with her, she’d have stayed with him, hoping that sense of wrongness would go away. Because that was who she was. A serial monogamist with a bad case of falling in love at first sight.

“You can take me to my house. I’ll be fine on my own.” She’d need to call the alarm company, but that shouldn’t take long. A locksmith would be the biggest issue.

“Hell no.”

“Marco—”

“I’m not leaving you until you’re safe.”

No, no, no!

Oh God…

Deep breath.

Those were warm, fuzzy feelings…

Breathe deep.

She glanced at Marco, just a quick peak.

Her throat felt as though it were closing up. Her chest was too small. That buzzing in her stomach was most definitely butterflies.

This was so not fair.

She leaned her head back and thumped it against the head rest.

Falling for him was not allowed.

“We can grab some of your stuff, check into a hotel, and go from there. Let Ghost poke around a bit.”

“Who is he, anyway?” She turned, studying Marco’s profile in the afternoon light. What she knew about him she could tick off on her fingers, but her heart didn’t care.

“Ghost?”

“Yeah.”

“Met him when I was a SEAL.”

“You…what? Served? Fought? Together?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t like him much, do you?”

“Ghost? What? Sure I do.”

“Why do you call him Ghost? What’s his real name?”

“Ghost is what I’ve always called him. He moves like one.”

“Why’s he helping me?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because…because this is a big deal and if I get in trouble, both of you two could, too.”

“Don’t worry about us.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.”

Yeah, warm fuzzy feelings about strangling the man. She sighed and stared out the window.

She’d let a stranger dig around in her life. Why? Because she’d been scared. Maybe it’d been the wrong thing to do. If she’d never found out about Scott…would things be different? Would George still be alive? She didn’t know.

“Hey. Fiona?” Marco reached across the cab of the truck and grasped her hand. “I suck at this shit. I’m sorry. I’m not used to having to answer questions.”

“Okay.”

“How about this? We go get your stuff, check into a nice hotel. We can do dinner. It’ll be…nice.”

She couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” He glanced at her, frowning.

“You would hate nice.” She couldn’t even picture him wearing anything but his worn jeans and T-shirt.

“I can do nice. What? You think I can’t dress up?”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t. I just don’t think that’s what you’d prefer.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry, I don’t.” But she would be lying if she didn’t admit to herself that she’d liked to see what a cleaned up Marco might look like. She had a pretty good idea that he’d be lethal.

Okay, so maybe she’d go along with his plan. Just for the chance to see him out of his element even a little. Who knew where she’d be this time tomorrow, next week, next month or even next year? She might as well stop worrying about what she couldn’t control and just…enjoy being with Marco. If tonight was the last time she saw him, she didn’t want to get bogged down in all the what-ifs. She wanted to make memories that would last. Enjoy what time they had together, even if that meant her heart broke a little bit more in the end.

14.

Randy pushed papers around
George’s desk. Eli had already ransacked it during the day, but maybe the remnants would tell Randy something. He’d already been over Fiona’s desk. Even Randy’s workspace had more personality than hers, and that was telling.

A few of the employees had drifted over on their way out to ask where Fiona was. Besides the obvious panic over George being gone and the fabricated memo Eli had leaked about the company being bought, there was considerable unrest over Fiona’s absence. Quite a few people seemed unable to function without some sort of answer or input from her.

Interesting.

For someone with so much influence, she’d hardly left a trace.

It was normal for people to keep mementos, pictures, or even utilitarian items that held some sort of personality. Fiona’s desk was bland. Even her sticky notes were uninteresting. It was the desk of someone who could pick up and leave in a moment’s notice.

She’d planned this.

Whoever Fiona was, she’d been ready.

And George had become complacent. Lazy. He’d been with them long enough to know better.

Seriously, who the fuck gave a secretary access like this? Yes, George was a puppet and Fiona was the one doing the grunt work, but her account shouldn’t be able to access the financial records. The sole purpose for NueEnergy even being set up in the first place was to hide those. And here a lackey had total access to them.

Randy found a page of hand-written notes in a curling, feminine script. It was Fiona’s. Her grip was loose, the words concise. She was smart. Methodical. She’d have to be in order to dupe them as she had. Had she given herself access? Or was that George’s doing?

His cell phone buzzed, a loud sound in the otherwise silent office suite. Everyone was gone, save his team.

“Yes?” He put the phone on speaker and opened the first drawer.

“She’s been spotted at her condo.”

“Is the team in place?”

“Getting there.”

“Is she alone?”

“No, there’s a man with her.”

Figured.

Randy didn’t expect her to be working alone. She’d need help. Someone to do the heavy lifting for her. Or maybe this man was the buyer, the one who’d put her up to this. Either way, he wanted them.

“Get them both,” he said. “You still there?”

“Yeah?”

“Take them to the hanger. Fewer eyes there.”

And if he needed to dispose of the bodies there were always planes heading to other locations. Florida was good for dumping bodies, in his experience.

Fiona clutched her suitcase
to her chest, heart pounding.

“Was that necessary?” She glared across the cab at Marco.

He kept glancing at the rearview mirror and taking every opportunity to turn. Left. Right. Right again, then left. She was going to get motion sickness if this kept up.

When he didn’t reply she rolled her eyes.

“Someone was watching your house,” he said, his tone flat.

“What?” She sat up a little straighter. “No…”

“Van across the street. The city electrical crew doesn’t work at night.”

“It could just be parked there, outside someone’s house.”

He glanced at her, lips thinned.

Shit.

So that was why he’d told her they had to be in and out in under three minutes.

“What do we do now?” She clutched the suitcase handle a little tighter, as if it were a shield. Maybe she should call the Marshalls again. Talk to a different officer. Someone higher up that might understand the situation she was in. Moving her would take resources, and if they were involved in another, sensitive case it could pull people off other jobs, but…this was too much to ask of Marco.

“We can’t go to a hotel, I’m sorry. We’ll have to rain check dinner.” He grabbed his phone. “Ghost has a place. We’re going to split up so he can keep a look out. If we can figure out who is following us and why, maybe we can get one up on them.”

“Marco, I’m scared.”

He dropped his phone into his lap and reached across, giving her hand a squeeze. She clung to his hand for a moment, then let go so he could crank the wheel.

They zigzagged their way across the city, sometimes doubling back and going in circles, but she never saw anything unusual. Then again, she wasn’t in the habit of being chased in a car.

After more than an hour of Marco’s erratic driving, he whipped the truck into a driveway and all the way into a garage. The hum of the electric door buzzed and in a matter of seconds they were plunged into darkness.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“A safe place for tonight.”

“Who lives here?”

“No clue. Ghost said it checked out. Come on.”

“Where is he?”

“Across the street. Like I said, he’ll keep a lookout tonight.” Marco got out of the truck and had their bags from the back before she’d even popped her seatbelt.

“Marco—wait.” She scrambled out, suitcase in hand. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

He stepped through the door, into the house and flipped on a light. She held her breath, waiting for someone to scream or shout. When neither happened, she tip-toed after Marco into the borrowed home.

Toys littered the floor. The TV was on, as if someone had just stepped out of the room.

“Marco…where’d the family go?” She turned in a circle. It was so…normal. So unlike her life.

“No idea. They’re friends of Ghost’s. He said we’re good to use the guest room. Owners will be gone until tomorrow night, so make sure to pack up when you’re done, okay?” Marco dumped their stuff on the sofa and walked into a bathroom off the hall at the front of the house.

This was so…weird.

The Marshalls. She had to call them.

She snatched a cordless phone off the cradle and dialed the number by memory.

It rang. And rang.

The toilet flushed.

She crept across the kitchen, out of sight.

Voicemail.

She left a short, abbreviated message, ending the call the moment she heard the bathroom door open.

Crap.

Fiona pulled the fridge open with one hand and dialed her voicemail with the other. She could hear Marco’s footsteps across the house, coming closer.

“There’s stuff for sandwiches. Think they’ll mind?” she asked over her shoulder.

Marco plucked the phone out of her grasp as the first message began. He ended the call and tossed it onto the counter.

“Don’t call your cell phone again. It’s not safe,” he said.

That was something she’d expect to hear from a Marshall.

She turned, closing the fridge and leaned against it.

“What are we doing, Marco?” It was time to admit she was in over her head. This running and hiding business was never going to go well, not when she had so many other secrets that would bite her in the ass.

He leaned in close, one hand braced on the stainless steel at her back.

“We’re going to be okay, sweetheart.” He touched her cheek with just his fingertips but she felt it deeper.

“We should go to the cops. If someone is following us, then they should know, right?”

“You think that’s going to stop them?”

No, no she didn’t, but that’s what she was supposed to do. But she knew how bad people operated.

She swallowed.

“Say the word and we’ll head out of here. Hit the road.” For once she could see it in his eyes, the pleading. He wanted her to run. To go with him, and damn it if she didn’t want to.

But running had never fixed things for her. And the Marshall had told her clearly to carry on like normal. She couldn’t go it alone. She hated it, but staying, seeing this through, was the smart choice. She’d been here ten-plus years ago with another man, and she’d sucked it up, put on her big girl panties and did what was right. Because that was how she slept at night.

“I’ll resign tomorrow. In and out, and then we can go wherever.” It was the best compromise she could come up with. It kept the status quo the Marshalls wanted, and it got her out of there which was what Marco wanted.

He thumped his fist against the fridge and turned away from her.

Marco braced his hands
on the kitchen counter, his every fiber aware of Fiona’s nearness.

Why couldn’t she see it? Her life was in danger. And she wanted to risk it handing in a notice? Her life wasn’t worth dotting the Is and crossing the Ts.

If he had his way, he’d bundle her up on the back of his Harley and head out of town. Go back to his bunk room at Aegis and…he didn’t know what, but he’d be able to protect her with the rest of his team at his back.

This was all his fucking fault.

“Marco?” Fiona’s small hand rested against his back. Her voice trembled. He hated when she sounded like that.

“Fine. It’s a plan.” One he didn’t like, but he couldn’t force her to do anything.

“What’s wrong?”

He straightened and turned to face her.

How could he answer that question when he didn’t know the answer himself?

These urges…they went beyond wanting to protect her because it was the right thing to do. It was a…a…need.

Marco didn’t like needs, and he didn’t like whatever was going on inside his head. Fiona had him so twisted up in guilt and lust he wasn’t sure if he could fake an answer.

“If anything goes wrong tomorrow, if anything feels off, you’ll let me know?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He’d be outside, but getting to her could always be the problem. He didn’t have a badge or clearance to enter the upper levels of the building where she had to go to get the deed done. It’d be like fighting his way into an enemy compound, except without his unit or any sort of support. Still, he’d do it. For her. And that was a new one for him. A woman had never mattered to him like this, which was all the more reason to get Fiona to a safe place. He was the last thing she needed.

“Marco, what’s wrong?”

They stood there staring at each other, and yeah. Something was fucking wrong. But he didn’t know what or why or how to fix it. He just…needed.

He cupped the back of her neck and leaned down, kissing her lips. It was the only
right
thing that’d happened today. She started, but only for a second. Her body relaxed into his, going soft in all the right ways. He hauled her up against her, needing to get closer, to touch her.

Fiona whimpered into his mouth, her hands tangled in his shirt.

He walked her back to the fridge, grasped her by the ass and lifted. She was such a small thing compared to him.

Magnets and a few pieces of paper scattered on the floor.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist.

Yes.

This.

This was what he needed.

Her.

The kisses didn’t go deep enough. He needed more.

She rocked her hips against his groin, stroking him with her heat.

“Fiona…” He groaned her name against her mouth.

She moaned, maybe in response or perhaps because he was grinding against her now.

He was slowly losing his mind. Every time he was inside of her, it was as if he lost a bit of himself. That cold, hard composure, his distance, they were eroding. Ghost was right, he wasn’t objective anymore, because of her. Marco was caught in an avalanche and the only thing to do was fall. He’d worry about digging himself out of this shit storm later.

Fiona’s hands were under his shirt, her fingers coasting over his body, nails raking his flesh. Damn, but he dug that.

He shoved her bra up, cupping her bare breasts in both hands. Her whimper was enough to drive him crazy.

They needed fewer clothes.

Now.

Marco stepped back, breaking the kiss and easing her feet to the floor.

Fiona kept her back against the fridge, her face flushed, and her lips glossy and swollen.

When she looked at him like that…he wanted to do anything necessary to keep that desire on her face.

She grabbed the hem of her shirt the same moment he whisked his over his head. He watched her, watching him, each stripping down to nothing. He kicked his shoes off, she pushed her jeans down. She shimmied out of her clothes and shoes, he let his drop to the floor.

It was reckless. He had shit to do, but first—he needed her.

Her hand wrapped around his cock and everything stilled. His muscles tensed and he groaned. She pumped him just the way he liked it. In fewer days than he had fingers, they’d learned each other’s bodies, the way to touch, how to stroke and fuck—she was a quick learner.

Marco grasped her by the hips and set her on the counter, pushing dirty dishes aside.

Yeah, they’d have to tidy up to pay their hosts back. Later.