Phantom in the Night (B.A.D. Agency, #2)(11)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

Silence.

Nathan sighed. Yep, loser. He didn’t have much ego left at this point, being an ex-con and all the amenities attached to that title, so who cared? And what had he thought? That she’d vote to spend a night with a man she probably rated along the lines of low-life sex offender?

He shook his head to clear those ideas and to focus on what was important, "From the way this stuff is stacked, doesn’t look like anything is missing. Which means the guy outside might try to come back in here and look some more, I don’t have a weapon so I have no way to fight back against a nine millimeter. I’m going back to the door," He started forward, slowly, waiting to see if she’d follow.

She grabbed his arm.

His heart did an extra thump, Nathan smiled over the gesture, small, but something that made him feel less like an ex-con and more like a man.

At the door, she tugged on his arm. When he turned to her, he leaned close to listen. She had the most feminine smell, soft and fresh.

She whispered, "Don’t go out there. He might shoot you."

She’s worried about me? Really? "He won’t." Nathan took her comment as a positive sign and leaned a little closer to where her lips had whispered, zeroing in on her mouth. He’d like to find out if her lips were as supple as they looked.

"You don’t know that," she countered.

Her warm breath tickled his nose. He knew exactly where her lips were.

Tempting, oh so tempting.

"I do know he won’t shoot me," Nathan assured her. "The minute I throw your bag inside, call for backup."

Her hand touched his shoulder this time, holding him captive. He soaked in her scent, wanting to taste her more than he’d wanted to taste anything in the last two years.

"They’ll arrest you if I call anyone," she said in a husky tone that sounded sexy, and inviting. Or was he just hoping so?

"They’ll never see me."

She said nothing, but he felt her lean toward him just a sliver, enough to ramp up his pulse.

"Who are you?" She licked her lips. "I_I want to know how to find you." Her fingers tightened, gripping his shoulder.

He hadn’t kissed a woman in over two years. He’d likely never get another chance to kiss one this nice anytime soon, maybe not at all once he went on the run. He leaned another millimeter closer and… what the hell?

Nathan drew her into his arms and kissed her with a mix of tenderness and need. She kissed him back for all of ten seconds then pushed away.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a terse voice that washed over him as briskly as a cold shower.

"Nothing." He released her and lifted up, feeling caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

The brittle silence that followed did nothing to change that sensation.

Disgusted with himself over the momentary lapse in judgment, better known as gross stupidity, he focused on his next move.

Get her tote so she can call in backup and run off the guy who had already taken a shot at her once tonight.

"Wait here." Nathan dropped down on his knees and eased out of the container. He slithered across stubby patches of grass and dirt to the area where she’d fallen. Using one hand to feel for the bag and keeping the other beneath him to shove up if he had to, he searched the ground, listening for any vibration of movement. His fingers touched a stuffed bag. He grabbed the material, found the top, careful not to dump it, then slithered back to the container door and shoved the bag inside.

That hadn’t been the way he’d envisioned his first encounter with a woman when he got out of prison. Stupid to kiss her in the first place. He was lucky she hadn’t screamed bloody murder.

He’d find a spot where he could watch until backup arrived. He shouldn’t care. She was a cop, after all, and not the least bit defenseless at the moment, but still a woman. One who probably had her weapon trained on him at this minute.

Damn if he didn’t like her spunk, though. When he turned to worm his way back up the incline, he heard, "Thank you, mystery man," whispered behind him. Nathan blinked in surprise, then grinned. "Mystery man" was a step up from criminal. He’d covered twenty yards when floodlights flashed on at the entrance. The electric gate rolled shut. Men scrambled into a squad car, then spun the wheels, getting turned around and up the incline to the gravel parking lot.

Once the two officers reached the container, Nathan drifted back slowly, then circled around to where her car was parked and opened the door… she’d left it unlocked. Did she think her car was safe just because it was inside a police facility?

She probably wouldn’t do that again after tonight. Nathan found her purse and, yes siree, her driver’s license. He committed the information to memory and put everything back within less than a minute. After another check on the excitement surrounding the container, he made his way to where he’d entered the compound. Once outside the fence, he hustled to the Javelin and drove just short of the electric gate, parking on the opposite side of the street at a rental business. He kept the engine running slowly. The muffler rumbled low.

Another squad car arrived and punched a code to open the gate.

Plenty of protection around the sexy law enforcement consultant and enough to keep her busy for a while.

Nathan had a couple of people to visit, but he wasn’t through with Terri Mitchell. Interesting that she lived in the same zip code as his mother’s house.

He drove off the lot and idled slowly down the street until he was far enough to open up the Javelin and let it roar. Who’d been inside the container?

What was the intruder after?

Bet this Mitchell woman had an idea. All he had to do to get her to talk was catch her with her guard down.

And without her gun.

* * *

Terri walked into the house and closed the door quietly. Rambling sounds from the television in her grandmother’s room carried into the kitchen.

That worked for Terri. She wasn’t ready to chat.

She carried her purse and tote bag down the hallway, tiptoeing past her grandmother’s room. When she reached her bedroom, Terri dropped everything in her hands on the floor. She stood there a minute, not believing how the evening had played out. The laugh that escaped her came out in a disgusted sound.

No one would have believed her even if she’d tried to tell the truth. Still, it might have sounded better than the lame story she’d made up on the cuff once the officers from the gate showed up.

They’d wanted details, a description of the assailant.

Terri combed her fingers through her tangled locks and shook her head. Description? All she had was the man who’d saved her. He’d been six-three or -four, short-tempered, dangerous, a professional operative of some sort, deep, sensuous voice, great kisser…

Not what she’d expected when she jumped at the chance to inspect the container. Not what BAD expected, either.

Joe would not be happy, but Carlos would be much less forgiving. He’d never bend again.

Glad to be home and safe, Terri rubbed her aching forehead and started peeling off clothes, which she tossed on a chair. Grandma would understand if she didn’t watch an hour of television with her tonight. A hot bath and glass of wine cured many ills when all else failed.

Her cell phone vibrated, humming against the contents of her purse. What now? She dug it out, fumbled it, dropped the thing yet again, and groaned over the unknown caller ID. "Mitchell."

"What went wrong?" Not the lighthearted Carlos she’d bantered with earlier.

"I walked in on someone already going through the contents in the container and not one on our team or the NOPD’s."

"Any idea who?"

"No. He was working entirely in the dark except for using a pin light… and a gun." She hunched her shoulders, waiting for Carlos to go ballistic over her refusal to take a partner.

He didn’t. Instead he asked, "How did you get out of that?"

"I did, that’s all that matters."

"No, it isn’t, Mitchell."

He was all business now, calling her "Mitchell" instead of "Terri," She debated how much to tell Carlos for as long as it took to sigh.

"I did have help," she admitted.

"I figured so."

That cut her deep. "Why? You think I can’t do this job?"

"Don’t get girlie on me, Mitchell. You want to be treated like the rest of the team? Then you get the same heat the rest of us would for going in without a partner. Your choice. Shit happens and even the best operative gets caught with his pants down from time to time."

Her face seared with embarrassment. He’d given her exactly what she’d asked for and she’d blown the mission. So she had to buck up and accept responsibility.

"You’re right. Sorry, Yes, I had help and, yes, I needed help or I might have been injured."

Or killed.

"Okay, Now you understand what having backup means and why it’s necessary."

She still didn’t want a partner, but Carlos had settled down so now wasn’t the time to argue that point further.

"Give me the rundown on what had happened and what intel you did get," Carlos said.

She told him what happened, sticking to the facts except for her ridiculous reaction to her mystery man… and that kiss. In those last moments, she’d been touched by his determination to protect her from a man with a weapon. His power had surrounded her, but not in a threatening way. She’d sensed he wanted something from her, yet felt mesmerized. Call her crazy, but she’d wanted him to kiss her. That and temporary insanity were the only excuses available.

Not intel she needed to share with anyone from BAD.

Carlos’s voice was deep and more relaxed now. "Tell me again about the contents."

"There was a generator inside a steel frame. The snort was hidden inside the steel tubing. Couple boxes of trinket-type things and a box of building tools, ornate ones like something you’d display rather than use."

"Look like anything was missing?"

"Not that I could see. He didn’t leave with a box in his hands, so if he got anything it was small enough to carry on his person." She hadn’t technically seen the intruder leave, but felt like her mystery man would have mentioned that.

"What about this help you had?"

"I have no idea who the second guy was or why he was there. He fought the first guy, gave me my tote bag, and left." That was a little thin on details, but close enough to be truthful.

"He doesn’t identify himself, helps you, then leaves? That makes no sense."

Tell her about it. "Hey, I’m as mystified as you are."

"Meet me tomorrow so we can go over this in person."

Why did that make her cringe like a kid being told to see the principal after school? "Name the place and time."

Carlos gave her the meet location. Terri hung up the phone, still wondering about the container’s contents. Why had the intruder been searching the other boxes when the drugs had been packed in the steel frame around the generator?

NOPD had used a torch to cut open one section of the frame at the docks, that was pretty obvious tonight.

If the intruder had come for the drugs, wouldn’t he have known where they were hidden?

Terri finished undressing, cranked up the shower controls to boiling, and climbed in. Wine and bubbles would have to wait for another night. Steamy water gushed over her battered body, draining away the last few stubborn kinks of stress.

She stepped from the shower, snagging a towel from the vanity to twist her wet hair into a turban, then grimaced when she touched the lump on her head. No complaints. The goose egg knot was better than having her brains scattered from a bullet, thanks to… him. Who was he? What was he?

Questions for tomorrow she’d be better able to answer with rest.

Terri wrapped a second towel around her body, tucking the corner in at her br**sts while she listened with half an ear to the sounds of the house. Grandma’s television chattered on down the hallway, but Terri’s bed crooned, tempting her to lie down for just a few minutes, then she’d get dressed and go visit Grandma.

She fell across the spread facedown. Her eyelids drifted shut. She yawned and stretched. The towel covering her fell loose with the movement.

A hand slipped across her mouth at the same instant a body settled over the top of hers.

CHAPTER SIX

"Don’t panic." He whispered close to Terri’s ear, just in time to avert an all-out anxiety attack. It was him again.

She slapped the bed next to her head.

"I’ll uncover your mouth if you promise not to scream."

Scream? No. Snarl? Yes.

But she gave him a thumbs-up signal, determined not to upset her grandmother, who hopefully wouldn’t hear something and check on her. As bad a position as she was in, Terri believed this guy would not hurt her. He was doing a great job of royally pissing her off, though.

When he removed his hand she whispered, "What is it with you?"

"We need to talk."

"Ever consider knocking on a door?" She kept her voice just as low as his.

"Not a wise idea for me."

"Why? Because then I’d know what your face looked like?"

"That’s one reason."

She really wanted to see his face. See who was stalking her, making her insides jump, "How did you find where I lived?"

"You should lock your car. Checked your drivers license."

"The only place you could have done that was_"

"_at the yard where the container was, while you were busy explaining to the boys in blue what happened," he finished.

How had he managed to do that without being seen? She was beginning to realize just how well trained this guy was. But trained by whom? An intelligence agency? The military?

"What kind of consulting do you do?" His tone hardened like cured concrete.

She really was not up for this. Did he think he could just waltz in here and interrogate her? While she was only wearing a towel?

"You want to talk? I’ll start. Why were you in the Drake house the other night?"

"What do you know about the Drakes?" he countered.

Terri considered head butting him, but she already had one lump on the back of her skull. She lifted a hand to rub the spot. Her turban came loose so she shoved the towel over the top of her head to the bed.