Perilous Games (Gray Tower Book 3) Read online

  “Well, if they weren’t all assholes, maybe I wouldn’t have to,” she shot back, surprised that she was feeling up to some banter with him.

  He wasn’t as big and scary as she had initially thought. She could handle him after all.

  She again thought he was going to rip her head off, but instead, he nodded and calmly said, “Fair enough. But I think you’d enjoy the assholes much more if you got laid.”

  Okay, that was it. The gloves were coming off. She was now the one who was pissed.

  “You have no right to comment on that,” she told him firmly. “Besides,” she added, although she wasn’t sure why. “I get laid plenty.”

  Okay, so maybe that one was a lie. She hadn’t had sex since Paul and that had been four years ago. Of course, she didn’t want to think about Paul right now, so she pushed him out of her mind.

  “Come on, baby. You’re wound as tight as a nun. Plus, you’ve pretty much advertised it on that little website of yours.”

  She crossed her arms, trying to show as much displeasure as possible. This dinner was going downhill fast.

  “Well, regardless of what you think,” she snapped, “it’s not like there’s anyone here who I’d want to help me solve my problem, which doesn’t exist by the way, so why don’t you lay off?”

  Oh wow, did she just say that? She sank in her chair a little bit, preparing for the worst.

  He raised an eyebrow. There was an odd look on his face. A smirk maybe?

  “That is a load of bullshit, and you know it,” he finally said, his voice low.

  There was a devilish glint in his eyes.

  Uh-oh.

  She realized that she had just challenged him. It was probably a good time to put a little bit of space between them, at least as much as she could in the tiny motel room. She stood up, taking her empty carton and pitching it in the trash.

  Then, she told him, “I stand by what I said.”

  Ashlen couldn’t believe how quickly he could get out of his chair and cross the room right toward her. He got right in front of her and peered down at her to the point that she felt the need to back against the wall. She didn’t feel scared like she had been with him before, but instead only felt those butterflies coming back again.

  “You can say what you want,” he growled, “but your eyes betray you.”

  With that, he grabbed the nape of her neck, pushed her flat against the wall with his other hand, and pressed his lips down upon hers. In shock, Ashlen began struggling against him, but he was incredibly strong. After a moment of rage, a very strange sensation crept over her. Butterflies were wiggling up her stomach and into her chest. She was beginning to like the fact that he was kissing her, even though every piece of common sense told her not to.

  Wow, what a kiss, she thought.

  Despite herself, she began to kiss back. She shut her eyes and started to enjoy him.

  It wasn’t the type of kiss that she had expected from him. It had initially been hard and furious, almost demanding. This was him showing her who was in charge. But then it had softened up quite a bit from there. Now, he was taking his time as if he were tasting her. His tongue slipped in her mouth and explored. She found herself doing the same with her tongue. Ashlen was right about one thing, though: the scruff along his face felt wickedly amazing.

  She had no idea how long the kiss had lasted. It seemed like forever.

  Suddenly, he broke away from her, and she snapped her eyes open. He peered down at her, a tight grin forming on his face.

  “Turns out I was right,” he told her softly as he stepped away from where he had kissed her.

  Ashlen could feel her face getting hot from embarrassment. She wanted to look away from him. Hell, she wanted to leave the hotel room and run away. Instead, she forced herself to hold his gaze.

  Instead of making any more comments about her or the kiss, he switched topics entirely.

  “We’ll be getting up early tomorrow,” he said nonchalantly. “So, try to get some more sleep if you can.”

  Great.

  Was that all the acknowledgment that she was going to get for what they had just done?

  I mean, seriously, she thought. Who kisses like that, and then doesn’t even acknowledge it?

  “Sure, whatever,” she forced herself to say and tried to bolt right past him.

  He caught one of her arms and swung her around so that he was again peering down at her intensely.

  Damn, why was he so tall?

  He stared hard right in her eyes. She knew what the expression on his face meant; it was a silent ‘I told you so.’

  Instead of saying that, he quietly said, “Goodnight, Ashlen,” and then let her go.

  Ashlen stumbled through her bedtime preparations the rest of that night, trying to ignore Mercer as much as she could. When she finally crawled into bed, she pretended not to watch him as he made his own preparation and then finally lay down. Clicking the lights off, they both lay in their respective beds in complete silence.

  She supposed that she had trouble sleeping because she had slept the day away. But that wasn’t the reason. She was so utterly exhausted that she really could have slept another twelve plus hours. The actual reason was lying in the bed next to her. She was confused and angry, not to mention completely aroused. So, she lay there awhile, thoughts spinning through her head until she drifted into a restless sleep.

  Chapter 8

  The sound of Paul’s cellphone ringer roused him back to consciousness. He opened his eyes and glanced around at his bedroom. A few streaks of daylight were coming through the blinds. The clock read eight. This would have been fine for most Sunday mornings, but since Paul had been back at the field office until nearly two in the morning, eight wasn’t going to cut it. A few groggy moments later and he snatched the phone from his nightstand, realizing it could be something important about Ashlen.

  “Anderson,” he greeted, his voice a little hoarse.

  “Hey, we got a lead,” Rodriguez’s voice piped through.

  Paul sat upright in his bed.

  “Give me it.”

  “Those bulletins got faxed to local law enforcement in Ohio and the surrounding states,” Rodriguez told him. “We’ve got a sheriff in a small mountain town in West Virginia who thinks one of his citizens saw Mercer Cade and what looked to be Ashlen.”

  With that news, Paul had jumped out of bed and had begun scrambling in his closet for a suit to throw on (he had this issue about always wearing a suit in the office).

  “When?” He demanded.

  “Yesterday morning. There was an incident with a local drunk that may have involved Ashlen and Cade. A gas station attendant reported it, but the man and woman he described wouldn’t stick around for the sheriff to show up. The man the attendant described had two scars going down the right-hand side of the guy’s face.”

  “Okay, while I’m on my way to the office, you can add that Page drives a 2017 black Chevy Tahoe with Virginia plates in a new set of faxes,” Paul told him, his heart racing. “And there’s a good chance that the SUV’s body is nice and dinged up as well.”

  “Sure thing,” Rodriguez said.

  After finding a clean suit, brushing his teeth, and running a wet comb through his hair, Paul drove like a madman on his way to the office. Rodriguez’s news had been just what Paul had been hoping for: a chance that Ashlen was alive and well.

  Despite being so tired the previous night, he had a hard time sleeping. He was worried about her. She was not the type to do well in a kidnapping situation; she was just too plain fragile. Hell, he still remembered the way she had looked at him when he had told her that he had slept with another woman. Fuck, it had completely devastated her.

  Paul shook the thought out of his head. No need to think about the past right now. However, he knew when he finally found her, he was going to sit her down and do whatever he needed to do to get her back: apologize, beg, it didn’t matter. All he wanted was her.

  When Paul got into the
office, Rodriguez was waiting at Paul’s desk. There was an odd look on his partner’s face. Paul wasn’t quite sure that he liked that look.

  “Yeah, so how about West is in on a Sunday, and he wants to talk to us,” Rodriguez told him.

  “Eh, fuck,” Paul mumbled. Allen West did not come in on a Sunday unless it was important. Or, if someone had fucked up.

  Rodriguez jerked his thumb in the direction of West’s office. “He’s expecting us.”

  When Paul and his partner arrived at West’s office, Paul had been anticipating the worst.

  Okay, we screwed something up big time, Paul thought. He’s mad, probably. Just “Yes, sir” him until he’s satisfied.

  West was sitting at his desk, amazingly enough in just a blazer and jeans. Allen West was in his late fifties and was African American with shoots of gray streaking through his hair. He was serious when it came to his job, and that was what Paul liked most about him. However, the guy could be just a bit intense sometimes.

  “Anderson…Rodriguez,” Paul’s boss nodded to them as they stepped in the office. “I want you two to pack your bags. You’re going to West Virginia to try and dig up anything on Cole’s kidnapping.

  “Frankly, I don’t like to play politics,” West continued, “but the media is already having a field day over Ashlen Cole’s kidnapping. She’s a cute girl…although you already knew that, Anderson, didn’t you?”

  Oh, yeah. Paul’s boss just had to bring that one up, didn’t he? It had been a long phone conversation, but West had concluded that Paul was the best guy for the job when it came to tracking Ashlen; he simply knew more than anyone else did about her.

  And it was personal.

  “Yeah, I guess I do, sir,” Paul replied, trying to be as respectful as possible.

  West could rip you a new asshole if you weren’t careful.

  West looked amused, and then said, “Well, it would look damned good if we could get her back safely. And it could help us bring a case against Marino or Peter Cole.”

  “I agree, sir,” Paul replied automatically.

  West looked agreeable.

  “So, I want you and Rodriguez to high-tail it to West Virginia and see what you can dig up. We’ll support you from here with whatever you need. Whatever this Cade guy does, you’ll be right on his heels, got it?”

  “Yeah,” Paul agreed.

  Frankly, he would prefer to go on the road and chase after Ashlen and her kidnapper. Sitting around in Cincinnati was not going to work for him. He had to get Ashlen back.

  “Go get your bags packed,” West ordered them. “You’re on your way to West Virginia.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Mercer glanced over at Ashlen. They’d been driving for the last couple of hours—west toward the mountains. Gray Tower had rented a house there, and it would be a perfect place to lie low for a while. Sure, there were other houses around the area (this was not what he had originally been told), but it was secluded enough that they weren’t going to be bothered by anyone once they got there. Plus, Mercer knew the fridge was stocked, so they could hunker there for a bit without having to go out—a perfect set up for a bodyguard job.

  Ashlen looked okay for the most part. She had been through a lot already. Mercer knew that he had pushed it the night before. He had spent the night with the worst hard-on he had ever had. He should have never kissed her, and he knew that. But he had done it anyway. She had challenged him, and that had riled him up. It had been a mistake, yes. As her bodyguard, he knew that he shouldn’t have pushed the sexual tension that had been between them. Then, she had just plain challenged him, and everything had changed.

  Yeah, Ashlen had tried to deny that there wasn’t an attraction between them. She had tried hard too. He had seen that, but the more she fought, the more he had noticed. It had gotten to the point that he couldn’t take it anymore.

  He hadn’t ever kissed a woman like he had kissed Ashlen. Most women he kissed to the point where he knew he could get them in bed. With Ashlen, he kissed her to the point where he thought he had stolen her heart and soul. This simply wasn’t what Sergeant Mercer Cade did with women. It had frankly taken everything he had in him to not try and fuck her that night.

  Everything in his body said that he should take pleasure from her and screw everything else. He knew that if he had pushed, she would have been willing, but something had told him to stop.

  Bryant’s voice echoed heavily in his head. He wouldn’t end up like Logan or Jack—two Gray Tower friends who had fallen in love on missions. Ashlen could be a little fling. That was all. But he couldn’t mix business with pleasure. He was a professional. It didn’t matter if he had a beautiful woman in his midst. He’d stay away from now on. He was supposed to be her bodyguard after all.

  Mercer grimaced, thinking back to yesterday.

  He had watched closely how she had reacted to him; she was attracted to him, regardless of what she tried to say. The kiss had said everything.

  Frankly, he had started to get a little aggravated when she had started probing his military past. It wasn’t something he wanted to talk about, especially not with her. The more she probed, the more he had become a complete jerk with her. She just would not understand and had pushed him to that point: she was too sweet and sassy. Every time she showed her sweet side, she pushed that sassy side that made him push back even more. He knew it had been stupid to kiss her as he did, but he had felt the need to tame a little bit of that sass. So, he had.

  The fallout wasn’t as bad as he had feared. Ashlen thankfully had enough sense not to bring it up. She hadn’t said much to him at all during the drive to the cabin. That was just as well. The more he got to know her, the more he wanted to get her in bed, which would be counterproductive as her bodyguard.

  It was a little after ten when Mercer pulled his Tahoe up the private drive to the cabin. On the way, the incline of the hills had been getting steeper and steeper as he had driven. The roads had been getting narrower and narrower as well. The traffic had become less dense. Now that Mercer had gotten a good look at the cabin, he was mostly pleased with Gray Tower’s choice.

  Mercer was a little bit disappointed to see that it wasn’t as remote as he had thought. There were at least two other houses stacked around the mountainside that had a full view of the rental. Still, it wasn’t bad, considering how little planning they had on this op.

  When Ashlen saw it, she gasped and said, “When you said ‘cabin,’ this was not what I had in mind.”

  “It’s logs, so, therefore, it’s a cabin,” he replied wryly.

  Ashlen gave him one of those sassy/annoyed looks that were really starting to get to him. She was cute when she was being feisty. He had to try hard to control himself, or they’d end up in another lip lock.

  Yes, the place indeed was made of logs, but it was the size of an actual house. When Mercer had parked and they had gone inside (the cabin’s key was left in a decorative box near the front door—apparently the area had almost no crime), they were able to appreciate how nice the place was.

  The main part of the house had an open floor plan with an arched ceiling that displayed log beams. The decorations were rustic—to say the least. The dining area was at the front window, complete with a chandelier made from animal horns. The kitchen and living area were toward the back, all open and complete with granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, and a large flat-panel TV. There was even a small washing machine tucked away in what was probably supposed to be a pantry.

  The nicest part of the place, though, had to be the covered deck that one could walk right out of from the living and kitchen area. The deck stretched the length of the cabin and faced out toward the mountains. It was built right into a hillside, so there was one heck of a drop if you looked down over the railing. It was a spectacular view.

  “So…exactly how much is my uncle paying you to watch me?” Ashlen quipped.

  “Sometimes, I don’t think enough,” Mercer shot back.

  C
areful, buddy, he told himself. She starting to get you worked up again.

  Ashlen crossed her arms and frowned but kept her mouth shut.

  Good.

  After further searching, Mercer found two bedrooms with a bathroom in the middle of them on one side of the living space and another bedroom and garage access on the other side that was nearest the driveway. He got the garage door open and pulled the Tahoe in it. It would probably be best to keep his car hidden since Marino’s gang knew what he was driving now.

  When he got their bags and his rifle case inside, he had to reprimand Ashlen for trying to take the far bedroom as her own. She had apparently thought that he was going to let her sleep on the freaking other side of the house.

  “You’ll take the bedroom on the other side that’s nearest the hillside,” he ordered. “That’s the hardest bedroom to get into from the outside.”

  She rolled her eyes but complied anyhow.

  Good.

  She was beginning to realize who was in charge.

  As she began walking to her room, he called to her, “And leave your bag packed. We might need to leave in a big hurry…”

  Mercer hoped to hell that he was wrong.

  Chapter 9

  What the hell is that?” Ashlen gasped as she saw the particularly mean-looking, obviously military rifle that Mercer had out on the dining room table.

  It was late afternoon, and she had spent most of her time out on the quiet, picturesque deck (she was trying to avoid Mercer as best as she could), flipping through a few magazines that were stashed in the cabin. It was a lot warmer here in the mountains of North Carolina than it was back in Ohio. Of course, this place to her was not a “cabin,” even if it were made of logs. This was a very nice vacation home, much nicer than her own home. For a few moments, she had found herself enjoying the place. If she were there under different circumstances, she probably would have liked staying there. However, there were people out to kill her, and she was being protected by an uber testosterone-filled jerk who she still found herself attracted to despite his personality.