Glitter and Gunfire (3 page)

At least three men. All centered on Cassidy? It certainly seemed that way.

He’d get to her, but first, he’d have to separate Cassidy from her circle of protectors.

Or he’d have to simply kill those protectors. Payback, for the lives of his men.

He’d always believed in the value of an eye for an eye.

* * *

C
ALE
WASN
’
T
A
FOOL
.
Cassidy might think he was misled by a wide smile and flirting eyes—and a very short robe—but this wasn’t his first case. He wasn’t some green soldier who’d be distracted by a pretty face. Or long legs.

So when Cassidy came shimmying down the lattice outside of her hotel, he was waiting for her.

The shadows hid him. All of the agents in his team knew how to use the shadows. So he stood in the darkness, watching her jump from the lattice and touch down gracefully on the cement. She was almost bouncing with excitement.

You thought you got away from me?

Not even close.

She glanced back up at the open bathroom window as she eased away from the building. She still hadn’t seen him.

Time to change that.

He stepped forward, moving soundlessly, the way he’d learned to hunt when Uncle Sam had first trained him to be an army ranger.

She still didn’t hear him.

And she was an EOD agent? Doubt gnawed at him. Cassidy sure didn’t act like an agent.

He reached out and curled his fingers around her shoulder.

Cassidy screamed.

Not like an agent.

An agent would attack first, not scream.

But Cassidy’s attack came seconds after her scream. She whirled around, striking out at him with a strong left hook. It would have been a good blow, if it had connected to his face.

It didn’t.

He caught her fist in his hand, freezing the blow. “Did you need some air?” Cale murmured, trying to sound mildly curious.

A shaft of streetlight fell on her face, and he saw her surprise as her jaw dropped open.

“Because, if you needed some air—” Cale shrugged “—I would have been happy to go for a walk with you. You should have just asked me.”

She tried to jerk back her fist. Because there was no place for her to run in that narrow alleyway, he let her go.

Cassidy was caged between him and the side of the hotel. Freedom wasn’t in sight.

He crossed his arms over his chest and waited, sure that whatever lie was about to spill from her full lips would be interesting.

“I didn’t expect you to be waiting.” She cocked her head as she studied him. Cassidy rocked forward onto the balls of her feet. “You must have come down here the minute I shut the bathroom door.”

Yes, he had. Cale wondered why she wasn’t trying to lie to him.

“How did you know?” Cassidy asked. “You
shouldn’t
have known.”

She looked quite different from the glittering debutante who’d been in the ballroom. Different from the seductive temptress in the silk robe who’d made him ache minutes before.

Now Cassidy was clad in jeans and a loose T-shirt, and her hair tumbled around her shoulders. He still found her sexy—no matter what, he kept finding her sexy.

Problem.

Because he wasn’t supposed to want her. That hadn’t been part of his assignment. He’d never mixed business with pleasure before.

Don’t start now.

“How did you know I was going to run?” Cassidy pressed. Nervous energy seemed to pour from her.

“Because Mercer told me that you would run.”
If you let her out of your sight, she’s gone,
had been Mercer’s gruff words. He hadn’t actually believed the man, at least, not until she’d said...

I’ll change in the bathroom and be right back.

“And your voice changed,” he said. A small hitch, barely noticeable, but he’d been paying careful attention to her. That little hitch had put him on high alert.

He’d known that Cassidy wasn’t coming back to him.

So he’d decided to go after her.

“My voice changed?” Her voice rose then. “Impossible.
No one
can tell when I’m lying.”

He flashed a hard smile. “I could.”

She frowned at him; then her gaze snaked over his shoulder.
Ah, nice trick.
Her eyes had narrowed even more, as if she was intently studying something behind him. Obviously, the lady was trying to distract him. If he followed her gaze and looked in that direction, she’d try to run away.

This wasn’t amateur hour. He wasn’t about to—

“Look out!” Cassidy screamed.

She didn’t try to run away.

She grabbed him, twisting with him so that they both fell in a heap, crashing onto the cement even as a crack of thunder broke the waning night.

Not thunder. He knew that sound too well—
gunshot.

He rolled them, positioning their bodies so that he was on top of her, shielding Cassidy. He heard her mutter, “You’re welcome, cowboy.”

He lifted his gun. His gaze searched the area. The shot had come from the south, from the heavier shadows there. They had no good cover, and he had to get her out of there.

From what he could tell, the shot hadn’t drawn any attention. They were away from the main party streets, so this area of town was pretty deserted. And the shooter—well, he was probably just waiting for Cale and Cassidy to move.

They’d rolled behind an old sports car. One that they couldn’t hide behind forever. But some generous person had conveniently parked the car at the edge of the alley.

Your mistake, buddy, but thanks.

“Where’s your team?” Cassidy demanded in a low whisper. “You have a team, right? Shouldn’t they be here?”

His team was still back at the ballroom, talking with the local authorities and trying to figure out just who those men had been.

For the moment, he and Cassidy were on their own.

Cale quickly considered his options. He could try to get her back upstairs into her room.

And then have the shooter—shooters?—come up after us? Not the best idea.

Or he could get her the hell out of there.

Cale decided to go with option two. His left hand tightened on her. “When I say ‘move,’ you get into the sports car and you stay low.”

She turned her head, meeting his gaze. “You’ve got keys on you?”

Since it wasn’t his car, no, he didn’t. But that was just a minor point.

One, two...
“Move!” He yanked open the car door. Cassidy jumped inside, staying low, just as he’d told her.

But the shooter saw their movements. He fired, and the glass exploded on the passenger’s side of the vehicle.

Cassidy yelled and ducked even lower.

Again—the yells weren’t the actions of a trained EOD agent. Civilians yelled. Screamed. Agents went to work.

Cale jumped into the vehicle. He shoved his hands under the dashboard, found the wires he needed—cars had always been a specialty of his—and he had the engine cranking to life instantly.

A good thing because more gunfire was exploding around them.

He shoved the car into Drive and slammed the gas pedal down to the floorboard. They raced from the scene with bullets chasing after them.

His right hand still held the gun, and his left kept a white-knuckled grip around the steering wheel.

“Are you okay?” Cale demanded as they rounded the next corner. The shooter could be pursuing them, so he barely slowed. He was pretty sure the sports car lifted onto two wheels.

She didn’t answer him.

“Cassidy!”

She was curled in on herself, crouching down on the floorboard. He could just see the top of her blond head.

“I’m okay.” Soft. “I just got cut from some of the glass. No big deal.”

He glanced in the rearview mirror. Saw only darkness behind them. But it wasn’t like their pursuers would come chasing with their bright lights on.

He wasn’t using his lights, either. Because if you wanted to blend in with the darkness, you didn’t flash a beacon.

“Are they following us?” Cassidy asked from her crouched position.

Maybe.

The car slid around another corner. He wasn’t getting on the main roads, the roads that would still be full of those celebrating Carnival. The party didn’t exactly stop just because it was after midnight. He needed to stay away from the party—and the cluster of people that would just slow him down.

He knew this area. This wasn’t his first time to visit Rio. The EOD agents had a house not far from their current location. A few miles, a few more backstreets.

Then they’d be safe.

Or as safe as they could be. He needed more intel to figure out what was happening.
Why is she a target?

Cale didn’t like being the hunted. No, it was his job to be the hunter.

And for others to be his prey.

Chapter Three

A long sliver of broken glass protruded from Cassidy’s arm. Carefully, she curled her fingers around the glass and pulled it from her skin, hissing out a breath at the pain.

“What are you doing?” She didn’t look up at Cale’s growl. The guy often seemed to be growling. Not exactly Mr. Sunshine and Light, but then, in her experience, tough guys weren’t. They were dark and intense and the ones who were perfect when it came to pulling your butt from the fire.

Hello, fire.
Her great escape attempt had almost blown up in her face. If Cale hadn’t been there...

It grated, but she needed the agent. She needed the backing of the EOD.

And Cale had sure gotten them out of the shooter’s range fast enough.

Hot-wiring the car had been a handy trick, a trick that she’d always wanted to learn. Maybe she could convince him to teach her how to do it. Once they were not being chased by gunmen.

But...for the more pressing matter at hand... “I’m trying to stop the blood flow. That’s what I’m doing.”

They were in some rundown house on the edge of town. The place had looked abandoned from the outside, and, yes, it pretty much looked that way on the inside, too. Only Cale had told her that it was a safe house.

She wasn’t exactly feeling safe. And with 0600 ticking closer and closer, she was running out of time in a hurry.

His fingers curled around her wrist, and he lifted her arm so that he could see the wound. When his face tensed, she realized things were worse than she’d realized. “You need stitches.”

Definitely worse. “The blood’s stopping.”

No, it wasn’t.

“There goes that hitch,” he said, sounding distracted as he bent to study her wound. “Every time you lie, it’s a dead giveaway.”

Damn.
She would have to be a whole lot more careful. How had she not noticed that slip before? “I don’t need stitches.” Okay, maybe she did. But, more important, “I don’t have time to go to a hospital.”

“Forget the hospital. I’ll give them to you right here.”

Very bad idea.
He was kidding, right? She studied his face, met his stare.
Not kidding.
Cassidy quickly shook her head. “Do you even know how many infections I could get from you doing that? No way, I—”

“The wound is deep, and you need stitches. I’ve got the supplies we need right here.”

Because EOD agents were like Boy Scouts.

“Look, if it makes you feel better, I stitched myself back up before I went to your place.”

“You...you were hurt?” She hadn’t even noticed that. He’d seemed fine as he’d
carried
her out of the party.

“A graze just deep enough to need a couple of stitches.” He shrugged it off.

She tried to keep her jaw from dropping. “You get shot a lot, don’t you?” How was that normal?

“I try not to.”

That wasn’t the best answer.

“Come on. We need to get you cleaned up.”

He meant stitched up, and though the thought made her queasy, Cassidy sucked in a deep breath and squared her shoulders. It had to be done. So she’d do it.

Then he was leading her into the bathroom. She cleaned away the blood and grime on her. And, yes, the guy did have supplies in that little room. Even latex gloves that he put on right before he got ready to sew her up.

Don’t look. Don’t look.

“It’s going to hurt,” he warned her. A second’s warning before he started.

She kept her head turned away and bit her lip when she felt the needle slide into her skin. Mercer never would have made a sound. Heck, once the guy had been shot—twice—in the chest. He’d dug the bullets out himself, then taken out the men who’d been after him. Like Cale, he’d stitched himself back up.

Her wound pricked, pulsed.

She could feel every poke of that needle. A little anesthesia would have been awesome.

Her eyes squeezed shut.

This wound was nothing. Mercer had been stabbed four times on a mission in Panama years ago. Those wounds had been so deep, crisscrossing over his chest. She’d been so afraid, then, and—

“I’m done.”

Her breath rushed out. She’d made it through. An old trick that she had—just use bad memories to push away the current fear. Fight one fear with another.

It was her way.

Because she knew too much about fear.

Cale finished cleaning up. He put a bandage over her arm. His fingers seemed to linger against her skin. “Where did you go?” Curiosity had deepened his voice.

Her head turned, and she stared into his eyes.

His jaw locked. His fingers—not covered in latex gloves any longer—rose to her cheeks.

He’s wiping away my tears.

She hadn’t realized that she’d been crying. Had the tears been due to her wound? Or her memories?

Those stab wounds on Mercer’s chest...
When she’d seen him in the hospital, looking so broken, she’d been sure that he was dying.

But it would take a whole lot to kill Bruce Mercer.

“You’re not an EOD agent,” Cale said, sounding absolutely sure.

Her chin jerked up at that. “Don’t be so certain. I did a good enough job of saving you back there, didn’t I?” He would have taken a bullet to the back if it hadn’t been for her. Stitching up her wound hardly made them even.

No matter what he might think.

That steady gaze of his never wavered. “How’d you know the shooter was there?”

“I saw the glint of his weapon.” She’d had only an instant to react. She’d shoved Cale with all of her strength.

And saved him.

Point for the debutante.

He stepped away from her—or as far away as the small space would allow. “I want to know your story.”

I’m not in the mood to tell it.
So she needed to distract him. “Mercer honestly sent you down here without briefing you? I mean, do you usually just unquestioningly follow the guy’s every order—”

He’d headed back into what she figured was supposed to be a den of sorts. She followed right on his heels. He spun around, and she had to pull up short so they didn’t collide.

After a considering moment, he gave a nod and said, “I’ll tell you the mission I was given.”

Uh-oh.
She didn’t like the silky menace in his tone.

“I was told that I needed to head down to Rio and find a party girl named Cassidy Sherridan.”

A party girl? Well, that
was
the image she cultivated.

Only that’s not the real me.

“I was directed to follow her every move. To stick to her and make sure she remained safe at all times.”

Her brows climbed. Her arm was still throbbing, but she ignored the pain. “That’s it? That’s all you were told?” Talk about being in the dark. Mercer must have grown even more paranoid about her in recent months.

She’d give Cale a few details since he’d almost gotten shot.

“That’s all until I hear from Mercer in—” he glanced at the black watch that circled his wrist “—forty-five minutes.”

Not enough time.

She’d have to talk fast. Luckily, she’d always been a fast talker. Cassidy exhaled slowly and began with the truth. “Four years ago, my best friend was abducted from a pub just outside of Dublin.” Four years ago, but the memory was just as fresh in her mind. Fear didn’t fade. “The men who took her said that she’d be returned if they were paid three million dollars. They got their money, but Helen never came home.”

Not alive, anyway. Her body had eventually been found by the authorities.

Helen’s death hadn’t been fast or easy. No one should die that way.

“Since then, over a dozen other women—wealthy, young, well-connected women like Helen—have been taken. Sometimes...sometimes they are brought back, with only nightmares and shadows as their memories, but other times, their abductors leave their broken bodies behind.”

He watched her in silence.

She felt as if she’d just ripped open an old, too-raw wound...because she had. “The leader of the group is a man called the Executioner.”

Cale’s dark brows rose.

“He named himself—” arrogant, sick jerk “—when he...when he first contacted Helen’s father. He said that if he didn’t get his money, then Helen would face the Executioner’s knife. His knife.”

And Helen had faced that knife. The blade had sliced away the beauty of her face before plunging into her heart.

His gaze hardened. “The men at the party...”

“I think they were the Executioner’s men.” They’d been after their next target. After trying to attract their deadly attention for so long—

Finally, they’d come for Cassidy.

That knowledge was in his eyes. “You set yourself up as bait.” Angry, clipped words.

She had. There’d been no choice. “Someone has to stop them!”

His head shook. “The EOD—”

“I’m the one who told the EOD about the Executioner! I’m the one who went to Mercer.” Because she’d been so desperate.

“That’s why you have him on speed dial.”

She waved that away. “My family has connections.” As did the families of all the women who’d been taken. “My grandfather is the French ambassador to the U.S. government. Helen’s father was an Irish diplomat. The Executioner goes after a certain type of woman—”

“A woman like you.” There was fury darkening his words.

“Yes.” It made her the perfect bait. The Executioner was an international killer, and because he hunted in so many places, it was hard for one country—and that country’s authorities—to track him.

The faint lines on Cale’s face had tightened. “Mercer agreed to let you put yourself up as bait?”

Not exactly. That would be why he kept sending agents to guard her. Only this time, Mercer must have realized just how close she’d finally gotten to the Executioner. “Now that I have the Executioner’s attention, I can’t walk away. This is my chance.”

But Cale’s voice roughened even more as he demanded, “Your chance to do what? To wind up dead like your friend?”

Cold, brutal words. She knew his words were supposed to scare her. She’d been dealing with fear too long to let it stop her. “It’s my chance to stop him—and his men—before they destroy more lives. If I can get to the Executioner, if I can bring him down...”

“You really think that you’re going to do this on your own?”

Her eyes narrowed. Her heart was drumming too fast in her chest. “I’ve got an EOD agent standing right in front of me. I kind of figured you could do something a little more useful than just being my human shield.”

A muscle jerked along the square line of his jaw.

“I mean, what are you?” As Cassidy continued, she let her own anger out. He
would
help her. “The EOD is always ex-military, right? You barely make any sound when you move—your reflexes are the best of any agent I’ve seen.” She could still remember how quickly he’d pulled his gun in that ballroom. “I’m thinking you’re—”

“Army ranger. Ex-ranger.”

Cassidy nodded. She’d figured as much. “Well, since I conveniently have a former army ranger right here with me, I thought I might use your services to stop this killer before he takes any more lives.”

Using Cale would sure make things easier on her.

“And what if I hadn’t been here?” Cale took a step toward her. “If Mercer hadn’t sent me down here to watch over you—what would you have done then?”

She licked her lips. His gaze fell. Heated.
Oh, boy.
“Come up with a plan B,” she whispered. Actually, she already had her plan B. It was the plan she’d been using before she realized who Cale truly was. But plan B involved a whole lot more risk.

His gaze was still on her mouth, and there was a sensual awareness kindling in his stare. Her heartbeat kicked up even more, and when had all the air left the room? Sucking in oxygen suddenly became a lot harder.

Her gaze slid over him. Had his shoulders gotten bigger?

“You’re in over your head,” Cale told her.

He took another step toward her.

That big body of his had been on top of hers when they’d sought cover on the street. Adrenaline had spiked her blood, then, and she’d been thinking mainly about survival, but now...

Now she was thinking far too much about him. “Will you help me?”

His hands had fisted. Why? So he wouldn’t touch her? She rather liked the feel of his warm, calloused fingertips on her skin.

“My job is to follow Mercer’s orders.”

Like a good soldier. Always following orders. “Sometimes, you have to break orders.”

His pupils had widened, the darkness swallowing the blue of his eyes. His gaze was back on her mouth.

He definitely felt the same awareness that she did.

Only he wasn’t coming any closer to her.

Fine. She’d get closer to him.

She sucked in another deep gulp of that precious oxygen, and then she was sliding closer to Cale. Her fingers rose and pressed against his chest. He’d ditched the tux and wore a dark T-shirt and jeans. Beneath the thin cotton of the T-shirt, she could easily feel the hard strength of his muscles.

Someone liked to work out. A lot.

“Help me,” she said, glancing up at him. “Please, Cale.” Then, because it was what she wanted, and she hadn’t taken what she wanted in so very long, Cassidy pushed up onto her toes and put her mouth against his.

At first, he didn’t move. Not even an inch.

His lips were firm and cool beneath hers, and his body was rock hard. Her mouth moved lightly against his.
Please, don’t let this be a mistake. Don’t let it be—

His hands lifted, locked around her and hauled her against him. Their bodies pressed tightly together and his mouth
took
hers.

His lips parted. So did hers. His tongue thrust into her mouth, and, oh, wow, but the agent could sure kiss. Her knees did a little jiggle as she pressed even closer to him.

Heat uncurled in her stomach, a long-denied need that had been buried for too long. But this man, with his strength and the aura of danger that clung to him like a second skin, he made her feel. He made her burn.

He made her want.

Her arm wasn’t hurting anymore. Or, if it was, she sure didn’t feel the pain. All she could feel was him, surrounding her, making the desire that she felt for him grow ever stronger.