Catch, Release. Carol Ericson
were all highly trained professionals—men who wanted nothing more than to get their hands on Zendaris and those plans.
Would they really let a little boy stand between them and those goals? Because if it came down to it, she’d turn over those plans and let Zendaris escape if it meant keeping Bobby safe.
“Everything I told you is the truth.” Except for the fact that he was Bobby’s father.
“It seems strange, like something’s off. I probably should just do my job and deliver you to Prospero.”
She straightened her spine and widened her stance. “I’m not going in without a fight.”
A fierce light exploded in his blue eyes. Then he lunged at her and tackled her to the floor.
Chapter Four
He was insane. Bobby’s father had gone over the edge. But then, what had she ever really known about him?
For the second time since he’d bulldozed back into her life, he had her pinned with his body—and it wasn’t as pleasurable as the first time he’d done it three years ago.
“Get off me.” She shoved at his chest, which might as well have been crafted from stone. “Are you going to hog-tie me and carry me back? I’m not going anywhere with you.”
His heart pounded against her chest, his breath ragged in her hair. His voice rasped. “Stay here.”
He rolled from her body and began an army crawl toward the window.
He didn’t plan to kill her after all, or haul her back to Prospero—at least not right this minute. She dragged a few breaths of air into her lungs and brought her knees to her chest, rocking forward.
He stopped his crawl and whipped his head around. “Stay down.”
“Why? What are you doing?”
“Someone just tried to shoot you.”
“What?” She wrapped her arms around her legs, curling into a fetal position.
Beau shimmied to the drapes and yanked them across the windows from the bottom. “Crawl to the bathroom.”
Her mouth so dry she couldn’t peel her tongue from the roof, Deb mimicked Beau’s army crawl until she hit the cold tile of the bathroom floor. Grasping the edge of the tub, she pulled herself onto its edge.
A few seconds later, Beau joined her. He wedged his backside against the vanity and crossed his arms. “What the hell is going on?”
“You’re asking me?” The squeak in her voice echoed in the small space. “How do you know someone was trying to shoot me?”
“You had a red laser beam right here.” He planted the tip of his index finger in the middle of his forehead.
She gasped and her body sagged. She clutched the edge of the tub to stop her slide into it. “Someone had a scope on me?”
“Well, I don’t think it was a light show.”
“Did you see anything out the window?”
“I wasn’t looking, but there’s a building across the way. It must’ve come from there.”
She hoisted herself from the tub and flattened her hands on the vanity, leaning toward the mirror. “It couldn’t be Zendaris. That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he kill me before putting me to work?”
“My question exactly.” Beau turned to face the mirror and caught the eye of her reflection. “Unless he knows I’m here and he’s putting the brakes on his plan.”
“God, I hope not. If he thinks I called someone in to help me, he’ll kill Bobby—before he kills me.”
Beau ran a hand up her spine and clasped the back of her neck. “Let’s not think the worst. Do you have any way to contact him? The phone?”
“That’s a one-way phone. I can’t call out on it.”
“Who would be after you?”
She met his blue gaze in the mirror and swallowed hard. “Prospero.”
“Prospero hired me.”
She shrugged away from him and returned to the tub, gripping the plastic shower curtain with one hand. “Maybe Prospero hired two Lokis—one to reel in the catch and one to gut her.”
He raised an eyebrow. “If that were the plan, I would’ve left you in range of the little red dot on your forehead instead of pushing you down.”
“Maybe Prospero is using you.” She shoved the shower curtain away from her and the silver rings clattered on the rod. “Do you really think Jack Coburn isn’t aware that we slept together? He knew all along. That’s why he hired you. He figured you were the best person to find me. Figured I might just trust you instead of running away...or killing you.”
“I hope he’s right.” He hooked a thumb in his pocket and a crooked grin played across his face.
“I fail to see the humor.” She shoved her hands in her hair, letting it run through her fingers and fall about her shoulders.
“Coburn wouldn’t order your execution without listening to what you had to say first. My assignment was to find you and bring you in.”
“That was your mission.” Her gaze tracked to the open bathroom door. “Maybe he gave someone else different orders.”
He pushed off the vanity and grabbed her hand. “I think you’re looking in the wrong direction, Deb. Prospero doesn’t want you dead.”
“Someone does, and it’s not Zendaris—at least not yet.”
“We’re getting out of here.” He squeezed her hand. “Check out and we’ll find another place.”
“B-but I’m not supposed to leave.”
“Do you think Zendaris would rather have you dead? He has you exactly where he wants you. He’s not going to squander this opportunity.”
She chewed the inside of her lip. “What if it’s all a game? What if Zendaris doesn’t even care about those plans? He kidnapped Bobby and now he’s torturing me. He has a personal vendetta against us, you know.”
“Prospero?”
“Prospero Team Three specifically. One of our members recently discovered that Zendaris’s wife may have been a casualty of the raid we conducted on one of his munitions factories. He blames us for killing his wife.”
Beau whistled through his teeth. “That puts a different spin on this.”
“Exactly. He wants revenge. What better way than to kidnap my son and then toy with me before...before he kills us both.”
Beau pulled her against his chest, wrapping both of his strong arms around her. “That’s not going to happen. I’m not going to let it happen.”
“Why are you helping me, Beau?” She rubbed her nose against the soft flannel of his shirt. “Is it really just to get a crack at Zendaris?”
“That and I have a soft spot for...kids.” He tilted her head up with a finger beneath her chin. “Do you take me for some kind of coldhearted killer?”
She blinked her eyes. “I’d heard about you before I ran into you that night in Zurich—the mysterious Loki, Norse god of mischief. I knew all the stories—the hostage rescue in Mali, boarding that Somali pirate ship, taking down the mastermind behind that string of embassy bombings in London, the assassinations.”
He put a finger against her lips. “Didn’t happen.”
“If you say so.” She shrugged. She’d been half in love with Loki before she’d ever set eyes on him in the hotel bar where she’d been gathering intelligence at a conference