AllFreeNovel
Share Us
There had been more pleasure in her arms than he’d had in a lifetime of sexual acts, and that was damned scary.
Because he wasn’t a fool. He knew what they were facing. One little slipup, one agent remembering the wrong thing, and he would be revealed; Crista would be betrayed. And, hell, that would suck. Because there wasn’t a chance he was going to let Homeland Security get their hands on her.
If he was paranoid, then Homeland Security was over the limit. Even Cranston, as much as Dawg liked the special agent in charge of the investigation, was more paranoid than anyone Dawg had known before or since. He would jerk Crista out of Somerset and send her straight to a detention center out of the country. And once there, she would be buried in so much fucking red tape and shadows that he would never find her again.
Once they were far enough from London to find a relatively secure spot to pull into, Dawg and Natches turned their Harleys onto a secluded lane and pulled into the small, deserted clearing hidden from the road.
Cutting the motor, Dawg bit off a curse and stared around the clearing before turning his gaze to Natches.
“What did you find out?”
Natches had talked to the agents last night, subtly questioning them and covering Crista’s ass.
“No one saw anything but me,” he drawled. “I reported that you came in before me, and I borrowed your girlfriend’s car to drive in. I was point, remember? No one can question me, because no one else knows any different. ”
Natches had indeed had point outside the front of the warehouse, communicating with the rest of the team that had been in place as the interested parties drove in. He’d announced the arrival of the woman, and in his voice Dawg had heard something the others hadn’t. A warning.
“Watch the front, Dawg,” Natches had drawled. Not because Dawg had been closest, as Cranston had reminded him sharply.
“My mistake,” Natches had murmured into the communications link.
Dawg had known then. Natches didn’t make mistakes, not like that. Whoever the woman was, something was wrong, and Dawg had moved to intercept her.
The agents assigned to this case were wild-eyed and bitter, paranoid and determined. And it didn’
t help one damned bit that Crista so closely resembled the superficial description they had of the woman acting as a contact point between the buyers and sellers.
“If someone set her up, then we need to know why. ” If someone set her up. Son of a bitch, he was aching so bad to fuck her that he was trying to find excuses where he knew he should be finding handcuffs instead.
“Someone’s setting you up,” Natches grunted as he stared at Dawg over the rim of his glasses.
“And that’s not a good thing. Who could know you’re on the team?”
Dawg shook his head. “Better yet, who would know to use Crista if they did?”
Natches gave him a long, mocking look then. “Dawg, Cuz, who doesn’t know that Crista Jansen is your weakness? You’ve been dogging her ass like a stray mutt for months now. ” Natches smirked at his own puns.
“Ha-ha,” Dawg sneered.
&
nbsp; Then he rubbed the back of his neck. Hell, had he been that transparent?
“Even Johnny noticed. ” Natches was gleefully snickering now. “And he just can’t understand the attraction, doncha know?”
Dawg grimaced. Johnny Grace. He was a lousy damned excuse for a cousin. When Dawg’s parents had been killed in an auto accident, Johnny’s mother, Dawg’s aunt, had decided to attempt to claim part of the estate Dawg’s parents had left him. Dawg had spent a year protecting the inheritance that amounted to the only damned thing his parents had ever willingly given him.
And there had been Johnny, standing in a court of law, reciting his father’s complaints against Dawg and swearing that his parents had meant to leave the better portion of their estate to his mother.
And through it all, Johnny had sneered and snidely reminded Dawg over and again that his relationship with Dawg’s father had been much deeper than that of his son’s.
Because Johnny was an ass-kissing little bastard that played up to Dawg’s father’s opinion of himself.
“Old man Thompson was by the garage this morning,” Natches said then. “He was bitching about the lights moving back along the mountain last night behind his house. We could check it out again. ”
Again. That about summed it the hell up.
Dawg rubbed his hand over his stubbled cheeks before making a mental note to shave before rubbing on Crista again. She had razor burn on her neck that morning after her shower.
