Striking Distance

He held up his wrist so that she could see the face of his watch. She splayed her fingers over his muscled forearm and drew it closer to her face. He tensed and pulled free even before she was ready to let go.

Not the reaction she’d hoped for, but a reaction nonetheless.

She leaned close again, ensuring that her shoulder rubbed against his. “Thanks. What’s your name?”

Again nothing.

Five minutes passed with her sitting there gazing out over the mass of swaying, twitching bodies and him doing the same. Not one word was spoken.

Time for drastic measures.

She hopped off her stool, standing as close to him as possible. “Hey!” she shouted at the bartender. “How about a beer?”

A long-necked bottle slid down the counter toward her. She snagged it and took a long draw. “Hmm,” she purred as she wiped her chin. She sighed and plunked her bottle back onto the counter. She resisted the urge to wince. Although her lipstick did a great job of camouflaging her split lip, the alcohol still burned on contact.

She leaned against the bar and adjusted her position slightly so she could look her target directly in the eye...well, she could if he turned his head a mere five degrees and allowed her to. Jerk. Maybe he just wasn’t in the mood?

Only one way to find out.

She pulled a cigarette out of her purse, a girl never knew when she’d need a conversation starter, and provocatively leaned in his direction. “Do you have a light?” she asked, peering up at him as if the world just might come to an end if he gave the wrong answer.

He looked at her, that piercing gaze cold enough to give her frostbite, then glared at her breasts for a fraction of a second. “No,” he growled before looking away, clearly unimpressed.

Dammit.

Well, at least he’d spoken to her.

She tossed the cigarette onto the bar and propped fully against the counter, pressing her shoulder into his, as she drank her beer and contemplated her next move.

The beer was cold and refreshing once it got past her lip, but he was making her sweat. Usually she didn’t have this much trouble getting a guy’s attention. Surely three months sitting behind a desk at Langley in a two-piece suit hadn’t thrown her off the game this badly. Giving herself grace, she hadn’t actually ever attempted to bait a killer. It must be tricky, she mused. Rising to the challenge, she studied him out of the corner of her eye. His profile was strong, his jaw chiseled. A scar running from the corner of his mouth to the middle of his cheek served as a kind of permanent dimple. Otherwise, movie-star-quality features, but more rugged. She squinted for a better view. There was something in his hairline.

Another scar...

No.

Tattoo.

A number: 6...6...shit...

She stiffened.

He turned his head and pointed those laser-blue eyes directly at hers.

She opened her mouth but it took about three seconds for the words to come out. “Is that...?”

She couldn’t say the rest. He knew what she meant. She saw it in his eyes. Damn. Was this guy for real? Focus, Tasha. Stay calm. She forced her heart rate to slow before that cowboy Maverick could come bursting through the door.

He was still staring at her.

“What do you want from me?”

An involuntary shiver raced over her skin at the sound of his voice. Or maybe she was just freaked out by the bizarre tattoo. But the deep, gravelly sound scraped over her flesh, leaving every single nerve ending raw and tingling.

“I...” She moistened her lips and grappled for the cocky attitude she’d waltzed in here with. “My name’s Tasha. I just thought you were cute and that maybe we could—”

He looked her up and down. Not a fast and furious sweep, but a slow, methodical perusal...as if he were devouring every square inch of her with his eyes. She shivered again. Jesus, what was wrong with her?

When that unyielding blue gaze collided with hers once more, he said, “Go away.”

Had this encounter tanked or what?

She mustered up a properly pissed-off look and the body language to go with it. “Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I like it right here.” She guzzled the rest of her beer. “You know,” she said, her gaze focused on the mirror behind the bar, but her voice just loud enough for him to hear, “I knew moving here would be a mistake. My first night on the town and I get the brush-off from the best-looking guy in the club.” She turned toward him then, pressed even more intimately against him. “Why is that, do you think?”

He shifted just enough so that his face was about two inches from hers. “Maybe it has something to do with that big mouth.”

She laughed softly and then sighed, allowing her breath to feather across his lips. “Well, now I know, don’t I?”

He turned away as if he hadn’t even noticed her seduction attempts. How the hell was she supposed to crack this guy?

Lucas’s offer echoed in her ears...succeed in this mission and you’ll come to work for me with the best of the best. Failure was not an option. The cell phone tucked into her boot vibrated. Maverick, no doubt.

She braced a hand against J.D. as she fished out her phone. He flinched. Great, he didn’t even want her to touch him. “Yeah.” She turned away from the exasperating man, straining to hear over the music.

“I take it we have contact.”

Maverick’s call would show up as a cell phone listed to her fake roommate, Patti. Under normal circumstances he would call if he didn’t like what he saw on the monitor, if in distress she would say the right phrase or her inability to answer would equate to the same, and the cowboy would create a diversion, allowing her to escape whatever trouble she was in. But tonight’s call was just to ensure contact had been made and to tie her to his monitoring link. Once he’d put a call through to her cell phone, as long as that phone was turned on he could trace her. Backup to the other apparatus, he’d told her. He liked playing it safe. She glanced at the brooding man at her side. “Definitely. I thought you were coming back to pick me up, Patti.”

“Our friend is nearby,” he said knowingly. “Very good.”

“Yeah. Forget it, I’ll figure out something.” She hung up, closed her phone and tucked it back into her boot. She heaved a disgusted sigh. She couldn’t be certain how this would go from here, but at least she’d made contact. That’s all Lucas had wanted for tonight. But she wanted more. She wanted to prove how fast she could work...how deep she could go right from the start.

Her target suddenly stood.

Damn.

He tossed a couple of bills onto the counter, clearly preparing to split.

“You leaving already?” She shifted as close to him as possible. “We didn’t even get to dance.”

She looked up at him with all the sensual invitation she could muster. For two beats he stared right back at her without a word...without a reaction at all.

Abruptly he snagged her by the arm and moved away from the bar. Startled on one level but grateful on another, she allowed herself to be dragged around the fringes of the dance floor, zigzagging to avoid gyrating bodies. His fingers were like iron vises around her wrist. He didn’t slow down until they had cleared an emergency exit and were standing in the alley behind the club. Fear trickled through her but she quelled it instantly. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered vaguely why no alarm went off when they pushed through the exit. The fire marshal needed to start doing his job. She suddenly hoped like hell Maverick was doing his.

“Decide you want to take me home with you?” she encouraged, blocking the internal alarm going off inside her head. She was playing with fire here. Pushing the limit...but at least she had his attention now. When she would have reached toward him he shoved her to her knees.

“You know what to do,” he said savagely.

Oh, damn.

She took a breath, looked at his crotch and the sizeable bulge there, then peered up at him, careful not to let her uneasiness show. “You know, you’re really cute and all, but I don’t go down on a guy on a first date. Especially when I don’t even know his name.”

When she would have pushed to her feet he snagged her chin in a punishing grip forcing her back down. “I guess you don’t know how to use that big mouth after all.”

She glared right back into that icy gaze and countered, “Considering your attitude, I guess you’ll never know.”

His gaze held hers a second longer before he released her and started to walk away.

Tasha lunged to her feet and went after him. Dammit, she couldn’t let him get away. “Wait a minute. I—”

“Shut up.” He kept moving...didn’t look back.

She hurried to keep up with his long strides. “Look, my roommate left me here. I really need a ride. Could you at least give me a ride?”

This could go either way...all she wanted at this point was to find out where he called home while in the Windy City. That was more than Lucas had asked for, but then, that was the point. Considering this guy’s attitude, however, that might be all she could hope for period.

Glancing down his shoulder at her, his stride never slowing, he growled, “Call a taxi.”

“Wait!” She stayed right on his heels. “Don’t be a jerk. I just need a ride. Is that such a big deal?”

He stopped. A straining ray of light from a distant streetlamp filtered through the darkness where they stood, softly illuminating those Arctic eyes and highlighting the hard planes of his face.

She held her breath...all she needed was half a chance....

“A ride, nothing else.”

“Nothing else,” she promised.

He turned and started walking again. She followed. Two blocks later he clicked the remote on his keychain and the headlights of an SUV came on.

She climbed into the passenger seat while he slid behind the wheel. When she snapped her seat belt into place he asked, “What’s the address?”

She gave him the address for her apartment and relaxed back against the seat as he pulled out onto the street. “Oh, no!” she groaned and smacked her forehead with the heel of her hand. “My roommate called me...” She looked over at him. “In the club, you know. She needs the apartment to herself tonight. I have to hang out somewhere else.”

“A hotel, then.” This he said, as usual, with no emotion and without even sparing her a glance.

She moistened her lips and reached way down deep for her whiniest voice. “But I don’t have any money for a hotel. It took most everything I had to pay my share of the rent when I got here. Couldn’t I just crash at your place for the night? I swear I won’t be any trouble. I’ll even sleep on the couch. I don’t usually go home with strangers but I don’t know anyone else in town and—”

He slammed on the brakes. The seat belt was all that kept her from an up-close encounter with the dash.

“Get out.”

She glanced around the dark neighborhood. They’d already left the cluster of night spots behind. Rush Street and Division were safe enough, she knew from Maverick’s briefing, but it was after midnight...who knew? Of course, she had backup, but this guy didn’t know that. Mr. Coldhearted Snake apparently didn’t give a rat’s ass.

“Fine.” She muttered a couple of fitting expletives as she jerked the seat belt loose and scrambled out, then slammed the door as hard as she could.

When she walked away she gave it everything she had, swaying her hips like a hooker on a desperate mission.

She might not have his home address, but she had his license plate number. That was something.

When he didn’t immediately drive away, an uneasy feeling quivered up her spine. She resisted the urge to turn around and assess his intent. If he gunned the engine she’d hear him in time to dive to safety.

She forced herself to put one foot in front of the other and to pretend he wasn’t even there, watching, waiting, for God knows what. The memory of that bizarre tattoo made her shiver again. There was something really wrong with this guy. Her sixth sense hadn’t stopped vying for her attention since she walked up to that bar.

As if she didn’t have enough trouble already, a drunk staggered from an alley a few yards ahead. A friend joined him five seconds later. Both watched her steady progress without making a move. She braced herself for a scuffle.

Was everything determined to turn out badly tonight?

The SUV rolled slowly forward.

She sensed the movement more than heard it.

Just before she reached the plot of sidewalk where the two winos waited, the SUV stopped next to her, and the passenger-side window powered down.

“Get in.”

She folded her arms over her chest and turned a belligerent glare in his direction. “Are you sure? You know they have medication now for bipolar disorders.”

“Get in.”

Those cold eyes cut through the darkness with a warning. He wouldn’t be pushed any further.

“All right.” She opened the door and climbed back into the luxurious leather seat. “So,” she ventured when he’d eased into forward motion once more. “You’ll put me up tonight?” She resisted the urge to smile in victory. Why had she ever doubted herself?

He braked for a traffic light and swung that piercing gaze toward her. “If you’re certain that’s what you want.”

She blinked...knew a foolish moment of panic. “Of course I’m sure. Is there some reason I shouldn’t be?”

That relentless stare bored into her for several seconds more. “That depends.”

The light changed and he shifted his attention to the task of driving.

She swallowed, wet her lips and considered whether or not she had made a serious mistake. “Depends on what?” she inquired nonchalantly, uncertain as to whether he would even bother to answer.

He didn’t look at her...just kept driving. But his voice when he spoke was every bit as icy as she knew his eyes would be. “On why you picked me out in that club tonight.” He relaxed into his seat, still not so much as glancing her way. “You see, I don’t believe in coincidences. Everything happens for a reason. And—” he did look at her then...the fleeting stare chilled her to the bone “—I will know your reason.”

Chapter 9

“We lost her.”

Maverick stared at the handheld monitor, hoping like hell he’d pick up her signal again.

Nothing.

“Dammit.”

“He could have a jamming device in his vehicle,” Ramon offered from behind the wheel.

“Just keep driving,” Maverick barked. Ramon had been in this business almost as long as he had, but that didn’t give either one of them an edge at a time like this. If they couldn’t pick up a signal on the tracking device or the cell, the bastard had to have a jammer on board. It was that simple. “We gotta find that son of a bitch.”

He studied the electronic map of the vicinity where they’d last picked up the signal...where they’d last known Tasha North to be. She’d climbed into the SUV with the guy, and they’d lost her signal but had visual contact, so Maverick hadn’t worried. Then, when she’d gotten out a couple minutes later, the signal had come through loud and clear once more. He shook his head and hissed another curse from between gritted teeth. The bastard had a jammer in his vehicle, all right. He knew all the ropes and wasn’t taking any chances.

Able to maintain visual contact for a while, they’d followed him for several blocks. But, erring on the side of caution, they’d had to lag too far behind to keep up. He’d moved out of visual range...the signal hadn’t returned.

Now she was gone.

Maverick called up on the screen a ten-mile radius relative to the last visual sighting. “We’ll take this area one block at a time and hope we spot his SUV.”

“And if we don’t?” Ramon asked, his expression as disgusted and worried as Maverick’s surely was.

“Then we report in.”

He didn’t have to say the rest. If they couldn’t find her soon they’d have to let Lucas know...and start looking for her body.

Chapter 10

“What did you learn?”

Lucas settled on Victoria’s sofa in the very den where approximately twenty-four hours earlier the assassin had been setting his little booby trap. He leveled his attention on the woman waiting expectantly for his response. She looked as regal as ever; the coat dress, the color of ripe peaches, flattering to both her complexion and her figure. One would never know that she’d been through pure hell. She sat in the elegantly brocaded chair directly across from him as if a briefing related to her home’s intrusion were an everyday affair.

“How are you holding up, Victoria?”

Though she looked prepared for anything, her shoulders square, her chin lifted high. He knew better. This couldn’t be easy.

“Lucas, I need to know what you’ve learned. Please don’t attempt to spare my feelings. It’s far too late for that.”

He set his cane aside and looked her straight in the eye. “He’s been in your home, as you know. Planting the device that opened your window would have been impossible by any other means. He left no prints that we can find. Nor did he leave any other surprises.”

She shifted slightly then. He resisted the urge to shake his head. No matter what she said she wasn’t as ready for this as she wanted him to believe.

“So you’ll keep my home under twenty-four-hour surveillance now.”

It wasn’t a question. She already knew the answer. Lucas had hoped to conceal the depth of his awareness regarding the assassin’s movements, but that was impossible now. He would note the increased surveillance on the home. That couldn’t be helped. But keeping his suspicions from the assassin that Leberman was behind this was imperative.

“Yes.”

“He’ll realize that we know, then,” Victoria noted, reading Lucas’s mind.

He nodded. He tried without success to keep the other worry from interfering with his concentration. They’d lost contact with Tasha at one this morning. If the bastard had killed her...

Lucas forced the idea away. Tasha was too good to go down this easy. He refused to believe she was dead...just yet.

Something changed in Victoria’s eyes. Her expression went from firm and solemn to fragile and frightened. “What about the ice cream.”

This was the part he’d dreaded the most. “Freda didn’t bring the ice cream.” He managed a smile. “She swears she’s still on a diet.”

Victoria nodded stiffly. “I thought as much.”

Lucas leaned forward, braced his forearms on his knees. “Is there a possibility that you picked it up by accident. Didn’t notice that one of the flavors was chocolate.”

The weariness that settled over her expression then tied his insides into knots. “You know, I’ve considered that possibility over and over.” She clasped her hands together in her lap. “I’m nearly certain I didn’t...but then I can’t be sure.” She looked at Lucas. “I’ve even wondered if I’m losing my mind entirely. Having memory lapses maybe.” She looked away and shook her head. “I just don’t know.”

“Yours are the only prints we found on the carton.”

Her gaze met his once more, and the anxiety there almost undid him completely.

“But that doesn’t really mean anything,” he hastened to add. “Since he didn’t leave his prints anywhere else, either.”

He didn’t want her to go through another moment of this. Couldn’t bear it. “Victoria, I think it’s time for us to make those plans. I’d like to get you away from the danger. I don’t like how close he’s gotten.”

She appeared to consider his suggestion for a few moments, but before she could respond, Logan came to the door of the room. Lucas pushed to his feet and strode across the room to see what news Logan had brought. When he moved into the entry hall, farther away from Victoria, Lucas’s tension ratcheted up a notch.

“I just received additional information on the brand of the ice cream.”

His people were analyzing the chocolate ice cream from every standpoint, from taste to the manufacturer.

“I assume it’s a local manufacturer.”

The look in Logan’s eyes set him even closer to the edge.

“It used to be. But that brand hasn’t been manufactured at all for more than ten years.”

Chocolate. Little Jimmy Colby’s favorite. Even the brand was the one Victoria remembered buying for her only child. But it had been off the market for ten years.

“So he’s been keeping it all this time,” Lucas suggested.

Logan nodded. “The age of the product would be consistent with that theory.”

The memory of those hours on St. Gabriel Island when he’d been face-to-face with Leberman for the first time in nearly two decades came pouring into his mind. The bastard hadn’t said much...had apparently gotten his jollies from merely watching Lucas squirm when faced with the realization that Victoria was somewhere on that island and he couldn’t protect her. Lucas hadn’t cared if the bastard killed him but he couldn’t bear the idea of him hurting Victoria any more than he already had.

Something had been different.

For all those years Leberman had lain in wait. Then, out of the blue, he struck. He could have killed Lucas... possibly even Victoria. But he’d disappeared instead. He’d played them. Lured them into his trap, dangled the possibility of death, then disappeared, leaving someone else to finish the task. But that had been a ploy. Leberman had known the effort would fail. Everything that happened on that island had been a precursor. Some sort of test or preliminary tactic for the real thing. An appetizer to the main course, so to speak.

He’d killed James Colby fifteen years ago. Lucas was certain of that. Though Leberman had not claimed responsibility he’d left his calling card. James had been tortured relentlessly then shot twice, once in the back of the head execution-style, then once in the heart. The first shot had killed him...the second hadn’t even been necessary. It had made a statement from the killer.

From Leberman.

Just as the ice cream did now.

He was here.

He’d devastated Victoria all those years ago. Could have devised a way to kill her a dozen times over since...he was far too cunning for anyone to believe otherwise. But he’d chosen not to strike. The little drama he’d set in motion on the island had been to prove something. Otherwise why would he have simply walked away, leaving both of them still alive? Lucas’s gaze narrowed as he thought about that. The answer was suddenly so simple.

He’d played out that whole ridiculous scenario to make sure Victoria was ready for the next step. He’d waited all these years to make sure he could hurt her as deeply as he desired. She’d needed time to get over losing both her child and her husband...to finally get on with her life. He’d waited for her to fall in love again.

With Lucas.

It all made sense now.

Killing her years ago when she’d already lost so much that she’d wished for death anyway would have lacked the zenith he yearned for...the fulfillment he needed.

So he’d waited. Waited for her to feel again.

Waited for the ultimate moment.

When Lucas was prepared to make her his once and for all.

The weight of the epiphany crushed down against him.

The game this time would be for keeps. Lucas could feel it in every fiber of his being.

If the bastard had his way, both Victoria and Lucas would die.

Soon.

But first he would play, draw out his pleasure.

Lucas gritted his teeth against the fury that whipped through him...and that one obsession would be his doom.

Lucas would see to it.

Errol Leberman was dead already...he just didn’t know it yet.

Chapter 11

Tasha jerked awake.

She sat up straight and took stock of her environment.

The room was dark.

She couldn’t be sure how much time had passed but she was certain it should be daylight by now.

The perpetual darkness, along with the dank, musty smell confirmed her suspicions that she was in a cellar or basement. Someplace underground.