a woman with money to hide.
She interrupted his speculations. “Hey, you started asking questions again. It’s still my turn.”
“Sorry. What else would you like to know about me?”
“Tell me about Charlie Squad.”
Now, there was a touchy question. Where to begin? And how much to say to the daughter of his enemy? “We still dowhat we always did. We liaise between the air force and the Special Forces teams from the other branches of the U.S. military. To do that, we’re trained the same way they are and can do a broad variety of special ops missions.”
“Do you still operate in six-man teams where each guy has a particular specialty?”
“Why do you ask?” he retorted.
“I always wanted to know what you did for Charlie Squad. You never told me.”
He smiled without humor. “My specialty’s hard to define. I plan missions. I solve problems…creatively. When we’re stuck, I’m the guy who leads the team through a brainstorming session to figure out how to get unstuck.”
“So, Mr. Thinker. Have you figured out what you’re going to do with me after I hand you everything you want on my father?”
“Of course,” he answered lightly. “I’m going to kill you.”
Her wineglass shattered on the hardwood floor with a musical crash.
Chapter 4
O h God. Oh God, oh God, oh God.
She should’ve known that was what he’d say. But to hear the words spoken aloud. With such calm certainty…
She shuddered. Of course, it wouldn’t really matter if he killed her or not. Once her father decided she was in need of killing, nothing and nobody would stop him. One way or another, her life was forfeit. She’d known that when she’d started this fiasco. But to die at the hands of a man she’d once loved—that was a cruel blow.
He almost acted as if he’d forgotten the way she used to moon over him like a love-struck calf. Was he playing some sort of sick cat-and-mouse game with her emotions? If so, it was working.
Frankly, it was a minor miracle he hadn’t killed her already, regardless of what information she might have on Eduardo. She briefly considered showing him her ace in the hole,the bit of information she planned to hold until last. But it wasn’t time. Not yet.
I’m going to kill you.
His words tolled like a death knell, announcing her demise. She should cut her losses and walk out that door this second. Except she had nowhere left to go. Contacting Dutch had been her last-ditch attempt to stay alive long enough to save her sister. Did she dare brazen it out with Dutch and pray like crazy he never followed through on his deadly promise? She knelt on the floor and dabbed clumsily at the obscenely red spill of wine with her napkin.
Dutch towered over her with a roll of paper towels. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll get it.”
She sat back on her heels, too rattled to stand. She watched him mop up the wine and pick up the broken pieces of glass. Quick. Efficient. Thorough.
With a last sweep of paper towel across the floor, he announced, “There. All gone.”
Just like her when this was all over. He moved with lethal grace to the kitchen and disposed of the mess. She still hadn’t mustered the strength to stand when he came back. He reached down and pulled her effortlessly to her feet. He looked into her eyes, and somehow she found the strength of will to meet the iron resolve in his sapphire gaze. So. The battle was joined. The rules of engagement were understood. This was a duel to the death. To her death, to be precise.
She shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. His gaze drifted to her neck. And then lower, examining her in leisurely fashion, as if measuring her for a take-down. Everywhere his gaze touched her she burned with icy fire, and her shivers intensified. Thankfully he stepped away, and she remembered to breathe again.
He held her chair for her and she sat down weakly. Thecombination of terror and intense awareness made it impossible to look up at him, even
She interrupted his speculations. “Hey, you started asking questions again. It’s still my turn.”
“Sorry. What else would you like to know about me?”
“Tell me about Charlie Squad.”
Now, there was a touchy question. Where to begin? And how much to say to the daughter of his enemy? “We still dowhat we always did. We liaise between the air force and the Special Forces teams from the other branches of the U.S. military. To do that, we’re trained the same way they are and can do a broad variety of special ops missions.”
“Do you still operate in six-man teams where each guy has a particular specialty?”
“Why do you ask?” he retorted.
“I always wanted to know what you did for Charlie Squad. You never told me.”
He smiled without humor. “My specialty’s hard to define. I plan missions. I solve problems…creatively. When we’re stuck, I’m the guy who leads the team through a brainstorming session to figure out how to get unstuck.”
“So, Mr. Thinker. Have you figured out what you’re going to do with me after I hand you everything you want on my father?”
“Of course,” he answered lightly. “I’m going to kill you.”
Her wineglass shattered on the hardwood floor with a musical crash.
Chapter 4
O h God. Oh God, oh God, oh God.
She should’ve known that was what he’d say. But to hear the words spoken aloud. With such calm certainty…
She shuddered. Of course, it wouldn’t really matter if he killed her or not. Once her father decided she was in need of killing, nothing and nobody would stop him. One way or another, her life was forfeit. She’d known that when she’d started this fiasco. But to die at the hands of a man she’d once loved—that was a cruel blow.
He almost acted as if he’d forgotten the way she used to moon over him like a love-struck calf. Was he playing some sort of sick cat-and-mouse game with her emotions? If so, it was working.
Frankly, it was a minor miracle he hadn’t killed her already, regardless of what information she might have on Eduardo. She briefly considered showing him her ace in the hole,the bit of information she planned to hold until last. But it wasn’t time. Not yet.
I’m going to kill you.
His words tolled like a death knell, announcing her demise. She should cut her losses and walk out that door this second. Except she had nowhere left to go. Contacting Dutch had been her last-ditch attempt to stay alive long enough to save her sister. Did she dare brazen it out with Dutch and pray like crazy he never followed through on his deadly promise? She knelt on the floor and dabbed clumsily at the obscenely red spill of wine with her napkin.
Dutch towered over her with a roll of paper towels. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll get it.”
She sat back on her heels, too rattled to stand. She watched him mop up the wine and pick up the broken pieces of glass. Quick. Efficient. Thorough.
With a last sweep of paper towel across the floor, he announced, “There. All gone.”
Just like her when this was all over. He moved with lethal grace to the kitchen and disposed of the mess. She still hadn’t mustered the strength to stand when he came back. He reached down and pulled her effortlessly to her feet. He looked into her eyes, and somehow she found the strength of will to meet the iron resolve in his sapphire gaze. So. The battle was joined. The rules of engagement were understood. This was a duel to the death. To her death, to be precise.
She shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. His gaze drifted to her neck. And then lower, examining her in leisurely fashion, as if measuring her for a take-down. Everywhere his gaze touched her she burned with icy fire, and her shivers intensified. Thankfully he stepped away, and she remembered to breathe again.
He held her chair for her and she sat down weakly. Thecombination of terror and intense awareness made it impossible to look up at him, even
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