Smash and Grab: Action-Packed Thrilling Romantic Suspense (Callahan Security Series Book 2) Read online

  She wrinkled her nose, suddenly aware of a horrible odor. “No offense, but you smell. You should take that shower now.”

  He jolted back as if she’d slapped him. “Yeah. No problem,” he said. “Glad you’re feeling better and you’re no longer hungry or anything.” The words dripped with sarcasm. She tried to think of some response or apology—the words had just popped out—but before she could speak, he shook his head and left the kitchen.

  Lacy smacked the countertop. Her coffee, which had tasted so good a minute ago, soured in her stomach. She poured the rest down the sink and started doing the dishes. Least she could do was clean up. He’d gone to all this trouble for her…and she’d just insulted him. What he had gone through today because of her, well, there were no words to cover it. “I’m sorry” wasn’t remotely good enough. She owed Logan Callahan in a big way.

  Sighing, she finished the dishes, grabbed her flashlight, and then wandered around the house. The large, sprawling family room had a deck that boasted a breathtaking view of the sea. The glass doors could be pushed to the sides so there was no wall separating the house from the stunning panorama. The whole house was that way, full of grandeur, and yet it was cozy, too. Somebody really loved this place. Two somebodies, if the clothing in the closets was any indication. Two male somebodies.

  She picked up a picture from the desk in the study. Two smiling men stared back at her. They seemed very much in love in the picture, so much so she couldn’t help but smile back.

  Glancing at the clock, she noticed it was 3:30 a.m. Fatigue hit her in a sudden wave, threatening to draw her under. Calling Logan’s name, she pulled herself up the stairs and entered the bedroom. The water was still running, so she sat down on the huge master bed. A gas fireplace directly across from the oversize bed, promised further warmth, so she found the remote before crawling back onto the mattress. Moments later, huge flames lit up the fireplace with a whoosh, making the room instantly cheerier. She lay back on the bed, waiting to apologize to Logan, but promptly fell sound asleep.

  A loud crash woke her out of sound sleep. Sitting bolt upright, she whipped her head around wildly, trying to figure out where the hell she was and what the sound had been. The sound happened again. Thunder. With the next boom, everything came back to her—Markus, the car accident, the kidnapping, the boat, swimming to the island. She took a deep breath and flopped back down on the bed.

  “You OK?” a voice beside her asked calmly.

  “Ahhh!” She jumped and twisted at the same time, landing with her feet on the floor, facing Logan. “Oh, for the love of Pete! You scared the hell out of me. Why didn’t you tell me you were there?” She ran her fingers through her hair as she tried to calm her breathing.

  “I was trying not to startle you. You were disoriented.” He was grinning as he pushed himself up on the pillows.

  “Well, you failed. I think I just had a heart attack.”

  His grin was even wider as he watched her. She glared at him. Of course, he looked fabulous. All sleep-tossed hair and a dark shadow on his jaw. Her heartrate skyrocketed when she took in the sight of his bare chest and abs. Dear God, the man was shredded. Just looking at him made her nipples hard.

  “What time is it anyway?” she asked in a breathy voice as she turned away. Closing her eyes and biting her lip, she chastised herself for having such a physical reaction to him. No way was he going to miss that. Men never did.

  “Not sure. The storm cut the power off. Probably late morning, early afternoon.” His voice was soft. She turned to look at him. Big mistake. He was watching her. His eyes darkened when he’d caught sight of her nipples through her white tank top. She tried to pull the plaid shirt across her chest to cover them, but it was too late. His expression said he knew exactly what she’d been thinking.

  The room lit up suddenly, followed by a thunder crash.

  “Umm, I could use some coffee. How about you?” She had to get away from Logan before she made an even bigger fool of herself.

  “There’s no power, so your wonderful machine won’t work.” His eyes danced over her, taking in every single thing. Damn. Her hair was probably a rat’s nest and her face was no doubt puffy with sleep. Why wasn’t she like one of those girls in the movies who woke up looking hot and made up every morning? Maybe a shower would make her feel better.

  “Right. Well, I’m going to grab a hot shower and then see if there’s any instant coffee.” She headed into the bathroom.

  “There won’t be any hot water.” His voice rumbled out of his chest. She stood stock still in the bathroom, her face flaming red in embarrassment. He even sounded sexy in the morning. Damn. Damn. Damn.

  “Right. I’ll just grab a quick cold one.” She needed one. She shut the bathroom door, went to the shower stall, and turned on the spray. “Need to get rid of the cobwebs before we plan our next step,” she said loudly as she stripped off her clothes.

  “I wouldn’t do that…” he said, his voice muffled by the closed door.

  She hopped in the shower and closed the heavy glass door behind her. She had to bite down hard on her cheek to keep from screaming. Cold was not the word. Ice. The water felt like little icicles stabbing into her skin. Well, at least it was working. Her mind was no longer on Logan. Instead it was on how much of an ass she was. Damn, indeed.

  Within seconds, she was out of the shower and toweling off. Trying desperately to keep her teeth from chattering, she wrapped the towel as tightly as possible around her body. In her haste, she had forgotten to get some fresh clothing out of the closet.

  She walked quickly past Logan, who was still sprawled in the bed, and into one of the walk-in closets. She had determined last night that the clothing in this closet was smaller than that in the next one. It was all men’s, but at least it was something.

  Taking a deep breath, she closed the door behind her. There was a bit of light streaming in from the small window at the back of the closet. She started rummaging through the clothes, promising herself and the home owners she would replace the clothing. She picked a white T-shirt off the shelf, followed by the only sweater she could find. It was a maroon, lightweight wool V-neck. She hissed when she pulled it on. The cut on her chest stung a bit. The icicle shower must have knocked off some of the scab that had formed, but hopefully it wouldn’t bleed.

  She had washed her underwear last night and hung it to dry in the bathroom, but it was still damp. She searched for something to wear on the bottom. She opened drawer after drawer before finally finding underwear. She wasn’t going to wear a strange man’s underwear, but maybe there was a new, unopened pack. After rummaging farther, she came to the conclusion that it was all used.

  About to give up, she opened another drawer. Jackpot!

  It was some sort of junk or discarded gift drawer. It had all kinds of interesting things in it, including a pair of boxer shorts still in the plastic. Unfortunately, when she opened them, the shorts had the words Kiss me written in a strategic location. Well, beggars couldn’t be choosers. She pulled on the shorts and tried to forget was written across her vagina. Chances were extremely good that no one would see it anyway.

  She found another pair of sweats, navy this time, and rolled up the bottoms after she pulled them on. There was a full-length mirror in the closet, so she stood in front of it and adjusted the clothing. Her hair was curling and standing out from her head, so she pulled it back into a tight bun tucking the ends under the bun to hold it in place. With one last glance in the mirror, she decided this was as good as she was going to get and opened the door and reentered the bedroom.

  Logan was sitting up against the pillows. “Are you getting up soon?” she asked. “We need to plan how we’re going to get back to Nassau. Maybe we could do another search of the house now that it’s light out. There must be some kind of phone here somewhere.” She smoothed her hair back. “Maybe the caretaker’s cottage has something we could use.”

  He had been watching her wordlessly. Finally, he said, “I a
ctually checked it last night after you fell asleep. No phone or computer. It looks like the cottage has been empty longer than the house. Very little in it. A few sticks of furniture and some old sheets. That’s about it.”

  “Great. Any ideas how we’re going to contact the outside world or get back to Nassau?”

  “In case you missed it, it’s storming pretty badly out there. I don’t think we can go anywhere in this weather, but there’s a boathouse I want to check out once the rain stops. I was just too tired last night.”

  She frowned, but she couldn’t deny he had a point. They couldn’t do much in this weather.

  “Be thankful,” he said. “No one is out in this weather, which means the owners probably won’t be back today, and Scar and the gang won’t be looking too hard either. This wind has to make the waves high and visibility low. We should be good here as long as the storm lasts.”

  “Well, I guess you have a point.” She stared at him, chewing on her bottom lip. The blankets had fallen to his waist, and she couldn’t drag her eyes away from his chest.

  “Like what you see?” His voice was deep.

  “What?” Her gaze met his, and a blush crept up her cheeks. His grin widened. “I was looking at your side,” she fibbed. “Are you all right?”

  He turned slightly to look at his ribs. The sight of the vicious black bruises where Alexey and Hairy’s blows had landed, sucked all the air out of Lacy’s lungs. Her eyes filled with tears when they met his.

  Blinking rapidly, she tried to keep her composure. “I am so sorry,” she whispered and then cleared her throat and tried again. “I am so very sorry.” It came out in a strong, clear voice this time. “I know that doesn’t make up for anything, but I want you to know if I could have found a way out of this for you, I would have. It’s horrifying enough to be in this mess, but knowing that you were hurt because of it…” She smoothed a hand over her hair again and then wrapped her arms around her middle. “My family owes you a great debt.”

  Not taking his eyes off her, he got out of bed and started moving toward her. Her heart started beating faster—was he going to hug her? Kiss her?—but instead he nodded once before doing an about-face and disappearing into the bathroom. As she watched him walk away, she couldn’t help but notice his butt in the black boxer briefs he wore. She’d been so excited at the thought he might touch her. Now she felt as if he’d kicked her in the stomach.

  He hated her. He must, and who could blame him? After everything he’d been through, she was surprised he could stand to share the same space as her. When a tear rolled down her cheek, she swiftly brushed it away.

  The least she could do was go down and get some food going. There had to be a way to make coffee as well. If there was ever a moment when she needed coffee, this was it. She headed for the kitchen, vowing to herself she would find a way to make it up to Logan. Even if it killed her.

  He stood over the sink in the bathroom and closed his eyes. His ribs and kidneys were painful, but the look on Lacy’s face had hurt him more. He’d wanted to hold her and tell her he would be fine. Maybe he should have, but if he had walked over to put his arms around her, there would have been no going back. She had looked so small, so vulnerable, so in need of protection that he’d wanted to wrap himself around her and never let go.

  He had to toughen up, focus on the job at hand. He was here because he was following Lacy. She could be part of a much larger crime ring that had killed people. He needed to remember she had emailed someone about Drake’s new facial recognition/aging software prototype. He was in this mess because he needed to find out the truth. That was it. That was the goal. He needed to forget whatever it was he was feeling toward Lacy and remember his duty to his brothers and their clients. The work had to come first.

  He opened his eyes and studied his reflection in the candle-lit mirror. It all sounded reasonable, but it was all bullshit. “Who are you trying to kid?” he asked out loud. He walked over to the shower and turned on the spray. Maybe if he took a cold shower he could rid himself of this burning desire for Lacy Carmichael. Fat chance, but anything was better than looking himself in the eye. Coward.

  The frigid spray bit into his shoulders and robbed his lungs of oxygen. He only had to stay in for a couple minutes for the shower to do its job. He still wanted Lacy, but he was back under control. He walked over to the far closet and poked around for some clothes to wear.

  He found a black V-neck sweater that was his size and a pair of jeans. There wasn’t any unused underwear, so he opted to go commando. At least he had clean clothes. His stomach growled as he made his way to the kitchen.

  Things could be worse. They were holed up in a beautiful mansion that had water, a gas stove, and a pantry stocked with canned goods. Things could definitely be worse. Only hours before, they’d been tied up in the engine room of a psychopath’s yacht.

  He rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks. Lacy was biting her lip as she poured water into a French press. All the good the shower had done him was gone in an instant. She was so cute. He wanted to kiss that lip she was biting and maybe bite it himself. Cursing silently, he told himself to calm down. He took a breath and then said, “Need some help?” Damn. He hadn’t wanted his voice to come out so rough. He swallowed.

  “No, I’ve got it.” She glanced in his direction. “You can check on brunch or lunch or whatever meal this is.” She indicated the stove with her chin as she slowly depressed the plunger onto of the grounds.

  He turned to the stove, mentally trying to get his mind and body under control. He was in pain. Going commando had a serious downside. He shifted to try and relieve some of the agony his zipper was causing.

  He stirred the pan of corned beef hash and checked on the eggs Lacy had been frying. The heavenly smell was making his stomach rumble. Pronouncing it done, he turned off the flame and started sliding the food onto the plates she had laid out on the kitchen island. She’d also spooned some canned fruit into two bowls beside the stove, so he brought those over, too. When she finished making the coffee, she joined him at the island.

  After a moment, the silence started getting to him. He searched around for a safe topic. “How’s work? I mean back in New York, not the work you do here for your Dad.” Good one Logan, real smooth.

  “It’s, um, fine.” She spared him a quick glance. “What secret project are you down here for?”

  “Secret project?” he asked, his voice rising. Did she know something?

  “You said on the yacht you were down here doing some work for your old law firm. That only makes sense if one of your old clients demanded you worked on a project. Lawyers hate to have to pay consultancy fees, so it must be something big.”

  “Ah, I see. Well, um, I can’t really discuss it. Confidentiality and all that. He opened his mouth to explain further but took another bite of food instead. He hated lying to Lacy. Doing this kind of spy work was not his thing. For the millionth time, he cursed his brother Gage for making him do this.

  “Look, I know I owe you big time,” Lacy said. “I’m not sure I will ever be able to pay you back, but I’ll do my best to make sure you get out of this in one piece. I promise.”

  He knew she was being serious, and he loved that about her. The fact that she was this anxious about keeping him safe made her even more appealing. The guilt about lying to her was a hard nut to swallow. His heart thumped in his chest, and he desperately wanted to kiss her. He nodded because he didn’t trust his voice to respond.

  They finished the meal in a silence that lingered as they cleared the plates and cleaned up the kitchen.

  She ran a hand along her pulled-back hair. “I’m going to explore the house some more.” She turned on her heel and left the kitchen.

  He finished putting the dishes away and then wandered into the pantry. He found a box of pasta and a jar of sauce. They’d have dinner if they had to stay. Leaving the kitchen, he decided to sweep the house for anything useful. He had no idea what that
might entail but figured he would know it if he found it.

  He went through the dining room and the great room. He checked out two bathrooms. It was hard to see because it was dark outside, but nothing in particular jumped out at him as helpful. If Gage were here, or Mitch, they would be much better at this. While he’d spent his time in the Navy in the JAG Corps, his brothers had both been Special Ops. Feeling useless, he sighed.

  When he walked into the den, he found Lacy curled up in a chair behind the desk, cleaning a gun. Nonplussed, he stopped short. It had never occurred to him that she could handle a gun. Stupid. Her parents were arms dealers—of course, she could handle a gun. He shook himself mentally. He had to stop picturing her as an innocent young thing in need of help. Hell, she could be part of a corporate espionage ring. He had to remember that.

  She kept proving how capable she was of looking after herself. Just because he wanted to protect her didn’t mean she actually needed him. That idea bothered him to no end. It just wasn’t something he was used to. He was the responsible one, the one who took care of everything and everyone. He didn’t know what to do if he wasn’t needed.

  She smiled at him. “Hey, look what I found. I thought this might come in handy.”

  “I see.” His voice was dry as dust. “You know your way around guns well enough.”

  “Arms dealing is the family business, remember?” She clicked the slide back into place.

  “Yes. How could I have forgotten?” He sounded wooden, even to his own ears. “What was that like growing up? Must have made for interesting times.”

  She peered at him, eyes narrowed. “It did,” she responded, her voice tight.

  Anger burned in his eyes. He was suddenly very pissed off. He didn’t want to be here. With her. It was too much. Too hard. He liked her a lot. He didn’t want to play these spy games. He didn’t want to know what her secrets were. He just wanted to go back to his office in the city and run the business. This sneaking around shit was not for him.