She reached up and cupped his cheek. His jaw tightened in response, but his eyes softened a fraction. Striding up the stairs, he didn’t stop until they were in their bedroom. He placed her at the foot of their bed, his expression intense.
“I need you again,” he growled as he stripped off his pants and she realized that he was hard already.
Suddenly she was flat on her back and he was pushing into her again. This time his strokes were slower, steadier and he kissed her like a man with all the time in the world.
As she wrapped her arms and legs around him, she fought off the gnawing guilt that ripped apart her insides. She’d be leaving him tomorrow to keep him safe. She wanted to cry or lash out at how unfair life was. Walking away from Harrison was shredding her insides and she was barely hanging on to the thin thread of her control. Her own wants and needs didn’t matter anymore. Just Harrison. Even if it was wrong she was going to enjoy one more night in his arms. She planned to memorize everything about him; the feel of his cock sliding into her, his strong arms wrapping around her, his spicy scent that drove her wild. If she survived her pursuer, she’d come back to her husband—if he’d have her. If not…well, at least he’d be alive and that was all she cared about.
Mara slipped her sunglasses on before reversing out of the driveway. Giving the house she shared with Harrison one last look, she swiped at the unstoppable tears rolling down her cheeks and left. Her chest burned from holding in the sobs, but she couldn’t help the tears that escaped. She’d received another call from her contact last night and he agreed with her about the urgent need to leave. Well, her contact wanted her to return to London to draw Perdue out, but she was headed to Key West instead. It wasn’t far to drive, it was big enough to hide in, but small enough that she could corner Perdue when he came for her.
And she had no doubt he’d make a move against her.
Her contact was going to make it known to key personnel what her destination was. There was a mole somewhere within her former organization so this would serve two purposes. Hopefully ferret out the guilty party, and bring Perdue to her.
It was better than waiting for him to strike at any moment. She couldn’t live like that and without all her former resources it was difficult to hunt him down on her own. But she could certainly kill him when he came to her.
Forcing her tears back, she gripped the wheel tightly and headed toward the storage unit where she’d stashed her weapons. Then she’d be on her way to U.S Highway 1. It would take her straight into the heart of the Keys.
The sun had risen a couple of hours ago and it was a bright, nearly cloudless day in Miami. Seemingly perfect. The beautiful, palm tree-lined scenery she passed was in complete opposition to the dark storm building inside her. She’d waited until Harrison left for work then packed a bag. She started a letter a dozen times but kept coming up blank as she tried to find the right words. She wasn’t a big communicator and liked to compartmentalize everything. It was how she’d survived a hellish childhood and the high risk job she’d taken right after university. So she’d left a simple note telling him she had no choice but to leave, that she loved him and would return if she could.
Cowardice?
Absolutely. Leaving him was tearing her apart. And she knew deep down that once she left, Harrison wouldn’t take her back anyway. That was killing her the most. He wouldn’t forgive her for lying or for leaving. She knew her husband well enough so no matter how many times she told herself that she’d take care of Perdue then come home, she knew there wouldn’t be a home to come back to. Her hands started to shake with the need to turn around and head back, but she willed herself to keep moving onward. She was doing this for Harrison. Even if he would never understand.
After picking up her stash from the storage center, she hid her weapons in the compartment she’d hollowed out in her trunk. Eventually she’d have to ditch her car, but for right now she needed it.
Once on the road again, she found her center and determination to see this through. Let Perdue come for her. The vicious monster who’d made a living buying and selling people was going to feel her wrath.
As the light turned green, she steered right onto Flagler Street. A second after she pulled onto the main road, her heart jumped in her throat. A tow truck barreled down on her as it ran a red light.
She had a split second to make her decision. Gunning the engine, she burned rubber as she tried to jerk out of the way and into the main lane, but it was no use. She didn’t have enough speed and the tow truck clipped the rear right just as she would have cleared it.
Her car went into a spin and her head snapped to the side from the impact, but she gripped the wheel as she fishtailed out of control. Pressing on the brakes, she didn’t slam down because she didn’t want it to lock up. She spun into the next lane of oncoming traffic.
Horns blared and tires squealed. She braced for an impact, but the truck in the other lane bearing down on her jerked in the other direction at the last second. It slammed into the side of the tow truck. She fishtailed again and crashed into a Prius with a sickening crunch. Her airbag deployed, slamming her head back against the headrest. Her chest burned and a dull ache spread across her skull.
For a moment, silence reigned in her car. She blinked, her chest sore as the airbag deflated. Wiggling her fingers and arms, she was happy to realize nothing was broken. As she shifted against her seat, she groaned. The seatbelt had jerked against her hips, ribs and collarbone so she knew she’d be bruised. As she released the seatbelt, someone knocked on the side window, startling her.
A man wearing a T-shirt with the Miami Heat logo on it had a cell phone in his hand and wore a concerned expression. It looked as if he was asking if she was all right.
She nodded and fumbled with the door. The moment she stepped out onto the pavement, noises and voices crashed over her. A siren wailed in the distance and the man in front of her gently touched her elbow.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Just shaken up.” Nothing was broken, of that she was certain. She’d had broken bones before and now she was just sore. And the hit hadn’t been bad considering the guy had clipped her. She was just lucky that oncoming truck hadn’t hit her head on. She would be a lot more than shaken up if that had happened. She’d probably be dead or at the very least unconscious.
“I’ve called the police and I’m pretty sure some of the other bystanders have too. I’m an EMT and while you look fine, you need to take a seat before the paramedics and police arrive.” He gently guided her to an area of curb in between two parked cars.
As she walked with him she glanced around and tried to tamp down her growing panic. Yeah, there was no way she was getting away clean now. She spotted the tow truck driver stepping out of his vehicle and the man from the pick-up truck standing next to the driver’s door talking on his cell phone. The truck was on the other side of the street and the tow truck was in between her car and the pick-up, completely blocking the flow of traffic.
People were standing on the surrounding sidewalks, some staring, some talking on cell phones. She was thankful no one appeared to be hurt, but holy crap, her day had just taken a turn for the worse.
She had a suitcase in her backseat, weapons hidden in her trunk and after this she’d definitely have to have her car towed. There was no way to subtly remove her weapons either. Crap, crap,
crap
. She could get the weapons once the car had been removed from the accident, but that wouldn’t be for a few hours. She rubbed a hand over her face as she tried to decide what to do. Part of her desperately wanted to call Harrison, but knew that would be stupid. She’d already left a note at home for him and once he picked her up he’d see not only her packed suitcase—which was clearly not a gym bag—he’d insist on taking her home and then he would find the letter.
Tears stung her eyes as she let the dark-haired man guide her to a sitting position on the curb. Today luck was definitely not on her side. If she could just have a few moments alone to herself, maybe she could think her way out of this mess.
* * * * *
Neville slowed as he rounded the corner onto Flagler. Now that he was free he found he couldn’t get enough of walking. In his former life he’d had a driver chauffeur him everywhere—and he eventually planned to have one again. But for now he was unknown and under the radar. While he might not care for Miami he enjoyed being free and doing what he wanted,
when
he wanted. As soon as he took care of his final problem, life as he was used to it would recommence.
Wearing jeans, a T-shirt with a sport’s team logo, a ball cap and sunglasses, he fit in well enough. Though he hated being out of a suit, it was necessary even if he wasn’t particularly worried about someone recognizing him here. His trial had been somewhat publicized but that had been years ago and in the UK. Americans were notorious for their lack of knowledge on international affairs. Still, blending in was of the utmost importance.
Frowning at the crowd of people gathered on the sidewalk, he grew curious and slowly eased his way through the onlookers. There were so many of them, loud and on their cell phones. He hated being surrounded by so many people, but he wanted to see what was going on.
Flashing blue and red lights from three police cars reflected off the surrounding buildings downtown. There was also a fire truck and two paramedic vans. From the smashed car and tow truck, he realized there had been an accident.
His hotel was less than a mile away and this wasn’t some roadblock intended for him. His momentary twinge of panic subsided as he started to fade back into the crowd.
Before he completely stepped back he got a glimpse of a petite blond woman and froze. Ice chilled his veins as he stared at the profile of the woman who looked eerily like Cait Chilcott, aka Mara Caldwell. Her arms were wrapped around her slight body as she talked to a woman in a police uniform. The hair was shorter, paler, and she was slightly curvier. No, not curvier, just…not as lean. When he’d known her before she’d been honed. Like a beautiful blade.
But it was definitely her. And the softness surprisingly suited her.
He tried to tear his gaze away, but it was impossible. She scrubbed a hand over her face then sharply turned to her left as if someone had called for her. A giant of a man was barreling toward her, his expression grim. He pulled Cait into a tight hug, lifting her off the ground. She wrapped her arms around the man, embracing him fully.
The man was broad-shouldered, well-muscled, tan and his dark hair was military short. He wore an expensive looking suit and after speaking a few words to the police officer, the woman nodded and stepped back. That was interesting.
With most of his funds still tied up until he could personally get to them, Neville hadn’t been able to buy all the information he’d needed. So far he had a name and a city. If this was Cait—now calling herself Mara Caldwell—he guessed this man was someone important to her considering the way he’d hugged her. Since she’d taken away Neville’s business, his money, his
pride
, he couldn’t fight the elation that surged through him at finding her like this.
He would take away everything from her and more. She was nobody yet she’d managed to infiltrate his organization and bring him down.
When she started to turn in his direction, he slid seamlessly back into the group of people. He didn’t have far to go and he didn’t want her to see him. Not with so many police around. Anything could go wrong and he planned to take her when she was weak and broken.
Then he’d make her pay.
* * * * *
Harrison felt as if he’d lost a decade of his life. He’d received a call from a friend in the Miami PD that Mara had been involved in a car accident. All he’d heard were those two words. Car accident. Then everything else had funneled out.
Eventually he’d realized his friend was still talking and Mara hadn’t been injured. Some jackass had hit her, but she’d walked away from the accident. That knowledge hadn’t eased the panic still humming through him. It was like someone had given him a shot of adrenaline and he couldn’t get his body under control no matter how hard he tried. All his military training and subsequent training with the CIA didn’t matter. Nothing could prepare him for the thought of his wife hurt.
Holding onto her waist, all he could do was stare into his wife’s green eyes. Her small hands were on his forearms.
“Why didn’t you call?” he demanded before she could speak, then wanted to kick himself for being so harsh. Before she could answer, he spoke again, asking the question he most cared about. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She nodded, her grip tightening. “One of the EMTs checked me out. They wanted me to go to the hospital but I’m fine. I don’t have a concussion and I’m just sore. There’s nothing a doctor can do for me except give me something to take the edge off and I’m not taking drugs.” There was a bite of annoyance in her words.
His wife rarely had more than two glasses of wine on the occasion that she did drink so he wasn’t surprised. But he was worried. “You need to go to the hospital.”
Her jaw clenched and he knew it wasn’t happening. “I’m not going. Besides…” She trailed off, her expression darkening. She swallowed hard, looking away. “I need to tell you something.”