Chapter Twenty-One

Liz could barely breathe by the time Mitch slid her to her feet in the large, futuristic shower. The enclosure tucked adjacent yet outside the atrium had a retractable roof that seemed to bring the sky inside. The arrangement and sensation felt like what she imagined floating in a rain shower would feel like. He promised they’d come back at night so she could listen to her favorite song and watch the lights dance to the music in the dark. She’d rather watch the moon and stars and dance with him in the shower.

For now, though, she was happy with the soft pink and purple glows around some of the spray heads. And, she was very, very happy with the man standing in front of her. When she’d showered last night, she’d made sure to get every last bit of camo out of her hair, but she wasn’t about to let him know. As long as he wanted to ply her with shampoo and shower gel, she’d bask in his touch.

The feel of his soapy palms against her skin had her core begging for more. His fingers slipped inside the rim of her bikini bottom, nearly pushing her to escape the material. But she didn’t. She still wasn’t that brave. Not yet.

“Did I tell you how good you make me feel?” he whispered in her ear. “I’d do anything for you, Elizabeth. Anything. Tell me what you want.”

For her, talking was not an option. Only movement. Movement and Mitch.

She undid her bikini top, letting it slide away as he found the perfect spots to tease, the perfect way to bring her to the edge, then let her go. She raked her fingers down his chest, and he sucked in a breath on a deep rumble of a groan, then tugged her toward the bench at one end of the shower. He pushed his swim trunks to the floor a second before he pulled her onto his lap as he sat down.

How had she gotten so enthralled with this man? So needy for him?

He pulled her tight against him while she stole one kiss after another. She was his. She wanted more. A lot more.

His hands stopped moving. He tensed. “Shhhhh.”

She felt as if she might explode if…if…

“Damn.” He leaned his forehead against hers then moved her over on the bench next to him, as a steady beep sounded from back in the pool area. “I have to answer that.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“That’s the security signal from headquarters. Means Josh is on the line.”

“Can they see us in the atrium?”

“No. Nobody can see anything through the computers unless I respond with an answering click.” Mitch headed out of the shower. “But Josh wouldn’t call in the afternoon unless it was important.”

He grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist as he walked to the secure computer at the bar. She grabbed a towel then scurried over to grab her cover-up from the chaise. From the serious expression on Mitch’s face and the determined way he’d walked, whatever news was being called in wouldn’t be good.

All things considered…her need might not get met this afternoon.

…

Mitch clicked receive on the computer hooked into the house’s secure system. Evidently, he’d moved a little slow, because Josh and Reese were both waiting for him on the screen.

“About time you picked up,” Josh said.

“You interrupted my swim.” Mitch raked his hand through his hair. “Problem?”

“Yeah.” Josh held up a paper in his hands.

“Give it to me.”

“Is Liz there?”

She’d stayed off to the side, out of reach of the computer camera, but at the mention of her name she walked into view. “I’m here.”

Josh squinted. “Let me guess. I interrupted your swim, too.”

“Swim?” Liz replied. “No, I wasn’t swimming, I was in the sho—”

Mitch nudged her side then glanced in her direction, making sure she’d thrown something back on. The last thing he needed was a naked Liz broadcasting live.

She shot him a questioning glance and turned back to the computer screen. “Yes. I was swimming.”

“And we know how much you like to swim.” Reese all-out laughed before he waved his hand in front of his face in a passing gesture. “Sorry. Sorry. Like I said before—I don’t see anything.”

“Get on with why you guys called,” Mitch grumbled.

Typing something into the computer, Josh shook his head. A copy of a Power of Attorney Finance paper popped onto the screen. “Did you give this to your bank, Liz?”

Squinting, she scanned the paper, her eyes widening more and more with each passing second. “No. Where did you get that?”

“Through your bank. Don’t ask how.”

Mitch had read right along with her. The paper had said she’d turned over Power of Attorney for Finance to her dad if she wasn’t available. “Is that your signature?”

She nodded.

“Anyone else on your bank account?”

“I put my dad on my account after I took the position with my last publishing company.”

“Having someone on your account is a lot different than a POAF.”

“I know.” She grimaced as if insulted. “My publisher insisted their journalists have some kind of fail-safe for personal finances. It was to insure they could take care of their own personal business while on assignment. First, the publisher wanted a POAF put in place. I told them I’d add my dad to my account. Nothing else.”

The whole financial fail-safe sounded fishy to Mitch. He’d let Josh build his case, but already, he knew the final word would not be good.

Josh keyed in more info and a woman’s photo flashed onto the screen. “Do you know this lady?”

“Sure. She’s my publisher’s assistant. Although she’s done something different with her hair. Why’s she important?” Liz asked.

“Because the day before you got fired, she and a man, who looks an awful lot like your dad, walked into your bank to drop off the POAF. She claimed to be you. They both signed the change form with your bank.” Josh clicked up another form.

Mitch watched Liz’s expression slowly change. “Is that your dad?”

“Maybe…but, why’s he all dressed up in that flashy suit and tie? And he’s grown a mustache. Dyed his hair.” Liz stared off into space as if trying to piece everything together.

There’d been plenty of times CT had changed a victim’s appearance to throw OPAQUE off track, so that part didn’t surprise Mitch. However, timelines were beginning to blur on days and times and contacts.

“Anything else, Josh?” he asked.

“Later that day, they proceeded to empty her accounts, except for a minimal amount left in the checking.”

Mitch blew out a breath in anger. “Let me guess. Barely enough to get her to Ft. Myers?”

“Yep.”

“What about her credit cards?” Reese asked. “Liz told us they were all messed up, too.”

Josh nodded. “Same happenings.”

She’d begun pacing back and forth across the cold terracotta stone of the atrium floor. “I don’t understand. How would my dad know that woman? Why would they do something like that with my bank accounts?”

Mitch could imagine a dozen scenarios, none of which she would like. “Here’s what we do, Josh. You keep digging on anything and everything connected to the woman in the photo. Reese, you’re still my backup man on protection here. Have you had time to get a layout of the area?”

“A mix of locals and tourists. May be hard to zero in on new faces that aren’t the average people on vacation,” Reese said. “I plan to hit a couple business locations later today. Try to become a new best patron at a couple bars and restaurants.”

“Sounds good.”

“By the way, I talked to our friends at the FBI last night. They like the beach, too.” Reese said.

Mitch nodded that he understood the FBI would have someone watching the area. Made him feel better for the neighbors.

“Is that a drone I hear in the background?” Josh scrunched his brows together.

“Yeah, but it’s just a couple kids down the beach learning how to play a mean game of dive-bombing tag in the sky.”

Josh relaxed but shook his head. “Must have some expensive toy money around there. Sounds like more than a $100 drone to me.”

Mitch had thought so, too, the first time he’d heard them. But, since there were two kids, two drones and, as Josh said, lots of toy money in the area, he’d calculated the sound was spot-on.

“Hey Reese, while you’re being a tourist, rent a boat, a runabout or…whatever the fastest thing is you can find. Anchor at a close marina. Also, buy a couple PWCs, a trailer, whatever you need. Bring them here and put them in the garage.” This might be overkill, but just in case, he’d rather have equipment in the area than die because he hadn’t thought ahead.

Josh leaned forward. “You want OPAQUE to drop in some Q40s?”

“No. For now we’ll make do with whatever you can buy local. Besides, I’ve already got a Q40 locked in my secure storage down below. We’ll all talk again at twenty-one hundred. Contact me if there’s an emergency.”

“What? That’s all? You’re just going to…” She looked on in disbelief. “I can’t believe that’s all you plan to do.”

“That’s not all that’s going to happen in the next few hours, Liz.” Mitch didn’t have time to explain in detail what he and every other agent who’d ever worked an OPAQUE case were trained to be thinking, calculating, and playing out in their minds at all times.

“So give me a clue. You all have objectives. What am I supposed to do?”

“This bank scenario is way off the radar. Write down everything you know, did, and thought about in regards to your publisher.” He pointed at her. “No matter how big or small or inconsequential it seems. Everything.”

Propping her hand on her hip, she opened her mouth as if to argue.

“That’s all I need from you right now, Liz.” Making his point even more emphatic, he narrowed his eyes at her.

Everyone agreed on their assignments and signed off. Mitch clicked off the computer then stepped in her direction. He could tell by her wide-eyed stare that she’d latched onto fear and couldn’t let go.

With both palms, he brushed her water-soaked hair straight back then kissed her forehead, her cheekbones, her jawline—ending a breath away from her lips. “Now, where were we before the computer interruption?”

“I’m not sure of anything. I mean…shouldn’t we be fortifying the house? Arming ourselves?” Her voice quivered, yet she yielded to his lips with a few gentle on gentle kisses. “I mean there are people trying to find us. We’ve got to be ready.”

“Honey, like I told you before. Dying—is not an option today. And I already have this place fortified and armed.”

“Okay, but—”

“Do you really want to keep talking? Weren’t you the one who said what if tomorrow never comes?” He wrapped his hand behind her head, kissing her deeper and deeper, till she finally melted against him, their tongues sharing the touch of the other one.

She felt good pressed against his body. Better than an adrenaline high after completing a rocket-to-hell rescue behind enemy lines. He wanted more. He wanted Elizabeth Walkert to want him as much as he wanted her. He wanted her arms draped over his shoulders, her nails clawing into his back, her teeth biting into his skin.

Leaning next to her ear, he let his breath brush her neck with heat. “As I remember, someone likes the way I whisper. What should I say?”

She softly pushed away, taking a step back. “That’s not playing fair, Agent Granger.”

Fair or not, he stepped closer. “What’s not fair?”

“Using my words against me.”

“Oh, I’ll use my own words, honey. Question is”—his abs flinched as she trailed her fingers down his sides, but he tilted her chin, brushed his lips against hers—“do you like them sweet?” He sucked the side of her neck for an instant. “Or a little dirty?”

Breathing heavily, she rolled her neck to give him better access. “Why don’t you just show me what you’ve got?”

He loosened the cover-up she’d slipped on, gliding it off her shoulders, tugging to take it from her hands. But she held tight to the garment, clutching to keep it in front of her as she twirled into a defensive move. She grabbed for his towel. He dodged to the side. She grabbed again. He jumped back.

“So, you’re going to play like that, are you? Well, if you wanted me naked, honey, all you had to do was ask.” He loosened his towel and tossed it to the double chaise lounge behind her.

Instantly, her gaze skimmed his chest, his waist, his shaft. He finally had her attention.

Her lips parted before she moistened them, then looked back up, her eyes seeming to soften. Judging from the rise and fall of the rounded bulge of her breasts at the top of the cover-up she still clutched in front of her, her composure was pushing the edge.

“What do I get in return?” He held out his hand, palm up.

Standing on one foot then the other, she agilely slipped her bikini bottom off and held it out to the side. She winked. “Will this do?”

“Don’t you think that little bit of bikini material’s kind of tiny compared to that gigantic towel I tossed aside?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re actually talking size for size.”

Once again, she’d cocked her hip out to the side, which was okay by him. Gave him a better view of her ass.

“I’m saying you might want to make your offer a bit more in line with my own. In fact, I’ll throw in the fact I tested clean a couple months ago. Still am.”

Breathing heavily, she glanced toward his shaft and briefly smiled. “That works. I’m on the pill.”

“Sounds good. Now let’s get back to our”—he skimmed one of his hands across the rounding of her breasts, pausing to let the feel of her fullness push him to the edge, then slowly brushed his thumb back and forth—“negotiations. If you could see your way clear to include that little cover…”

He slowly circled his thumb below the edge of the material.

“Oh…” Her squeaky intake of breath was nothing compared to the slight blush that sparked her cheeks as she dropped the bikini bottom and cover-up at the same time. “Are we even now?”

Without another word, he lowered the two of them onto the double chaise, rolling them to the center of the round cushion. He cupped her breast, brushing his fingers across her tightened nipples, and she arched against his hand. Falling into his fingers’ rhythm, she closed her eyes and smiled as she pressed herself against them. Then he stopped. She moved his fingers back to her. When he still didn’t respond, she caressed her tightened breasts across his chest, slow and easy, faster and faster till she guided his mouth to her need. At the same time, he trailed his fingers down her curves, across her belly, lower.

“You are so beautiful, Liz.” For each of her reactions, he had a counter reaction, a counter move. “I could lie here like this forever.”

“I agree,” she said breathily as she stroked her hand down the side of his shaft. “But why don’t we get on with this for the moment? Before that damn computer signal beeps again.”

He rolled her on her back, braced his arms, and got on with it like she’d requested. They were both wound so tight there was very little time for the slow steady loving he’d planned to give her. Slow and steady quickly led to tangled and clutching. Tangled and passion. Tangled and more and more and…

Her release rocked a split second before he allowed himself to explode with his next thrust.

Unable to tear his gaze from her face, he gasped for air. Powerful. They’d been powerful together. A powerful he’d never experienced before. That rattled him as he rolled to his back beside her. Whatever had been building between them the past few days, he’d let happen. So had she.

And he’d felt invincible. That could be lethal for his freedom.

She softly moaned as she curled against his side, her languid eyelids fluttering, her breaths slowing yet heavy, her fingertips lying softly on his chest.

Things would never be the same for them. Yet everything would stay the same in his world. He hadn’t lied when he said he could lie beside her forever. Except he shouldn’t. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

Softly, she snuggled against his side. “That was nice.”

“Next time, we’ll do things slower.” Next time? Damn, he’d said next time. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Slower…um…” She’d already closed her eyes, drifting into sleep.

He grabbed a beach blanket from the table beside the round chaise and covered the two of them. Usually sleep was his MO. This time he was the one sleepless.

Sated and wide awake made for an interesting combination, but that was okay, he had a lot to work out in his mind. He pillowed her against his shoulder, listened to her breathing. Focusing on her warmth and scent and softness, his mind cleared.

His instincts intensified, just like every time he jumped from a Black Hawk into a planned operation. He’d been blessed with a sixth sense when it came to reacting to the unknown. Made his reflexes spot-on. This time, instincts told him there was more to this assignment than her being used as leverage against her dad. What if this case were reverse psychology? That would mean…what?

What the hell would that mean?

The fact CT had sent such an all-out message back at the safe house on Captiva flashed to the forefront of his thoughts. What if they knew about his house? Knew he’d brought Liz here. Knew…what? What else did they know? That all depended on the identity of the snitch. The rat. The one pinpointing OPAQUE’s moves.

OPAQUE had never been read like this before. Why this time? What was different?

Had this plan been in the works for weeks? Or months? Worse yet…years? And what tied Liz to all of this? Why did CT need her as the target? The bull’s-eye of the case?

He drew a wagon-wheel sized circle in his mind, put her in the center. People she’d encountered floated on the outskirts. Gradually he pulled them in. One by one, he placed them on the rim of the imaginary wheel. Himself…Drake…her dad Russ…Josh…Reese…the bank…her publisher, make that ex-publisher…the thugs on Captiva…Cat…Keith…and yes, her mother, too. As an afterthought, Mitch added Stealth and Joey to the rim.

Staring at the picture he’d formed in his mind, he realized again, just like back on the boat—OPAQUE was the biggest group on the wheel. Who was really the target?