Under the Gun Page 7

  Luke lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Yes, boss.”

  Claire’s eyes grew wide. “Holden is in charge?”

  “No.”

  “I should be,” Holden said at the same time.

  “So no one is talking, the rope around Claire’s neck is tightening, and my real boss is tired of cleaning up bodies after me.” Luke leaned back. “Does that sum up your message for today?”

  “That and the fact someone is digging around in your financial and employment records,” Holden said.

  Claire’s smile fell flat. “What?”

  “Even broke into Luke’s house and had a look around.”

  Luke wasn’t happy with that news, but he wasn’t surprised, either. Clearly whoever wanted Claire knew she was with him. It was only a matter of time before he became a target. “Anything missing in my condo?”

  Holden tapped his beer bottle against his knee. “Not that I could see.”

  “Then it’s no big deal. I don’t keep work stuff there or anything that could trace back to the office.” When Luke saw the rage boiling behind Claire’s eyes, he rushed to soothe her. “We have all sorts of bells that go off when this sort of thing happens. If anything, it might give the computer experts in the office a way to track down the people at the top of this mess.”

  “And there’s one more thing.” Holden took a long swig of beer as if prolonging the anticipation. “Steve Samson, Phil’s brother.”

  “What about him?” she asked.

  “He wants to talk to Luke.”

  Claire looked appalled at the idea. The scrunched-up nose and flat mouth gave her away. “For God’s sake, why?”

  “He knows you two had a past relationship. He wants to know if Luke knows anything about where you are and where you might be going.”

  Luke saw the news as an opportunity. “Interesting.”

  “Don’t you mean annoying?” Holden asked.

  “It opens a door.”

  Claire looked back and forth between Luke and Holden, the frown on her face deepening by the second. “Can I have the non-spy translation of that sentence please?”

  “While Steve is sizing me up, I can do the same to him.”

  Holden balanced his bottle against his leg. “You think he’s involved in all of this?”

  “If Phil is dead—”

  “He’s not,” Claire said in a tone that suggested no one disagree with her.

  “Humor me.” Luke waited until Claire stopped fidgeting to continue. “If Phil is gone, then who would be the one person to benefit? I’m guessing that would be his brother, who is also business partner in several lucrative property corporations.”

  “Steve.” She shook her head. “But we always got along.”

  “I don’t remember him supporting you in the divorce or after the police showed up.” And Luke knew because he followed the news with an obsession that scared the hell out of him. Even though she had walked out, even though he hated her, seeing her scared and shaken as the police dragged her in for questioning was a vision that Luke could never shake out of his head.

  “That’s different.”

  “Is it?” Luke asked.

  Her shoulders slumped. “I hate the Samson family.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  IT TOOK ANOTHER two hours to kick Holden out of the house and get Claire to stop spouting off about everything she’d ever heard or known about Steve. She was trying to help, but once she got turned on to a subject, it proved near impossible to turn her off again.

  With the lights out and his head balanced on the pillows on the couch, Luke was ready for the sweet oblivion of sleep. He had skipped the serious painkillers in favor of a second beer and an aspirin.

  “Luke?” Claire’s soft voice slid through the room.

  He sat up fast enough to wrench his shoulder…again. He bit back a groan. “What’s wrong?”

  “I think you should take the bed.”

  He’d been thinking about the mattress and her on it for longer than he wanted to admit. “I’m fine,” he said in a voice rubbed raw from wanting her.

  “You’re not.”

  “Nothing that a few hours of rest won’t cure.”

  “I’d rather you skip the rest and share the bed with me.”

  In the darkness he couldn’t see her face, couldn’t read her motives. The only thing that was clear was the glow of the short white nightgown she now wore and the outline of her body underneath.

  This sounded like an offer, but he’d been down that road with her before and didn’t plan to take that turn again. “I’m comfortable here.”

  Which was a damn lie.

  He heard the shuffle of bare feet against the floor. Then she was on her knees beside the couch. Her hair spilled off her shoulders and onto his bare shoulder. “I want you with me.”

  He shut his eyes and struggled for control. “Claire, I’m not really up for a night of cold showers.”

  “You aren’t understanding me.”

  Every muscle in his body tensed. “I’m trying.”

  “Then listen.”

  “Just say what you want.”

  “Sleep with me.” And she didn’t mean sleep. This time the message got through. Probably had a lot to do with the way she pressed her palm against his stomach.

  “Be sure.”

  “I am.”

  There were a thousand reasons to say no. He ignored every last one of them. “Then yes.”

  He tried to cool the churning inside him and not run into the other room to get started. Instead, he threw back the covers and sat up nice and slow, giving her plenty of time to change her mind and take off. That was her specialty, after all.

  She stood up and held out her hand to him. “Ready?”

  No. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready for this. All those fantasies about pushing her away crumbled under the weight of his need and the brush of her fingers down his cheek.

  “I’ll be gentle with you,” she whispered against the back of his hand right before she placed a kiss there.

  He could hear the smile in her voice. He almost laughed at the thought. When they’d come together in the past, it was fiery and passionate, a wreck-the-bed-and-roll-on-the-floor type of thing. They’d acted as if every minute could be their last. Eventually it was.

  He waited until they crossed the threshold to the bedroom to pull her into his arms and match his lips with hers. Over and over he pressed until the feel of her consumed him.

  The kissing ignited something deep inside him. This part always felt so right. And those moments right before he entered her tortured him as much this time as they did before. The waiting and wanting, he could barely contain it.

  She slid the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders and let the light material slip to the floor. Naked and ready, not an ounce of shame as she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Her bare breasts rubbed against his chest and he was lost. Only a flash of common sense saved him from being reckless.

  “Wait,” he said as he broke off the kiss. “Protection.”

  She nibbled on his neck. “On the bed.”

  “Holden brought condoms?”

  “Apparently he’s a very good friend.” She pushed Luke down until his butt balanced on the edge of the mattress.

  When she straddled his lap, he forgot about everything else. All his doubts and concerns slipped away. All that mattered was her.

  His mouth moved over hers as their hands went exploring. His back hit the bed and he rolled them over, careful not to put any pressure on his weak shoulder.

  “No.” She shoved against his chest. “Let me.”

  The words refused to compute in his head. It wasn’t until she turned him onto his back again and stripped off his boxer briefs that he understood. She would be in charge tonight. He wouldn’t have to worry about his weak arm because she would guide them through.

  A rip echoed through the quiet room and Luke knew what was next. Her hand covered him, puttin
g on the protection and bringing him to a fullness that had his back arching off the comforter.

  “Claire—”

  “Now, Luke.” Then she slid down over him.

  His body shuddered when she started to move. The steady rhythm pounded through every part of him. Then she shifted positions and he lost the ability to breathe.

  Chapter Eight

  Claire stared at the laptop screen and waited for something interesting to happen. If someone had told her a month ago that she’d be sitting in a safe house watching Luke have a chat with her former brother-in-law, she would have found the nearest mental-health professional for a prescription pad.

  “How did you manage to get a camera in the coffee shop?” she asked Holden. If he was going to stay stapled to her side while Luke was gone, the least the guy could do was answer a question or two.

  “There are cameras everywhere. It’s a simple matter of tapping into them.”

  “Adam?”

  Holden flipped a chair around and sat down next to her. “It’s his specialty.”

  “Adam has computers. Luke has guns. You’re, what, head of sarcasm?”

  “Tactics and strategy.”

  “Aren’t those the same thing?”

  “No.”

  She gave in to an eye roll. “Okay, but wouldn’t it have made more sense to use your office downtown for this meeting, instead of some random Georgetown restaurant? You would have had more control. Seems to me you guys are all about control.”

  “It’s been compromised.”

  She tapped her fingers against the table. “Because of me.”

  “Yes.”

  The plan seemed so simple a few days ago. Now everything was twisted. Luke got hurt and they ended up in bed. She had no idea how to pull back and reassess.

  “Sorry,” she murmured.

  “You don’t sound it.”

  She pointed at Luke’s image. “I still don’t understand what Luke hopes to accomplish with this meeting.”

  He sat slumped over a cup of coffee. The cell phone on the table beside him was actually a speaker so they could hear and record every word. So far, the men had only managed polite introductions. At this rate, she’d be on death row before Luke ate his muffin.

  “Information.” Holden said the word and then let it sit there.

  “Are you just throwing out words, or is that supposed to mean something?”

  “Steve’s pretty sure you killed his baby brother. He’s been all over the news calling for your arrest. It’s not exactly a stretch to think that he’s angry enough to send someone, or a bunch or someones, after you.” Holden turned up the volume.

  She figured he hoped to drown out her questions. Not like she was going to let that happen. “Phil is at the bottom of this.”

  “I know you think that.”

  “He’s framing me.”

  Holden folded his arms over the top of his chair and leaned down. “See, that’s the part I don’t quite get. I know you’ve got Luke staking his reputation and job on this…”

  The allegation rumbled through her. “That’s not true.”

  “Sex will do that to a man, but I don’t understand what Phil gains. It’s easier to cut you a small slice and get rid of you through a nasty divorce, especially since he has the upper hand in public opinion.”

  “You sound like my lawyer.”

  “So why go through the big scene? Why walk away from everything?”

  She had turned that question over in her head a thousand times, dissecting it and breaking down the facts. The logic of Phil’s actions eluded her. If he wanted to prove he hated her, he did that when he filed the paperwork accusing her of infidelity, a charge he knew wasn’t true.

  “He must be hiding something.” It was the only explanation that made sense.

  “I combed through the financial records. I’m not an expert and couldn’t get very deep, but on the surface the company looks solid. Times are rough everywhere, but he’s got some cash flow. Enough to pay the bills and keep everything afloat. Certainly shoveled a lot of money in his attorney’s direction to get rid of you.”

  “Thanks for the reminder.”

  “So why dump it all? Why is setting you up so important?”

  A loud thumping caught her attention. She realized the drumming of her fingers grew louder the more frustrated she became.

  She flattened her palms against the table. “I don’t know.”

  “Think, Claire. There’s got to be something.”

  Holden’s sharp tone surprised her. “You believe I’m holding out on you? I don’t gain anything by doing that.”

  “You get Luke back.”

  “That’s not what this is.”

  “I have eyes. I know you still want him.”

  Holden had been waiting to drop that little insight. She could tell by the way he froze as if waiting for a denial. Well, she wasn’t going to let him think he won on that point. “This is about clearing my name.”

  Holden studied her as if he was memorizing her reaction and analyzing it in some internal computer. At last he nodded. “I hope for your sake that Luke can weasel something out of this little rodent.”

  “Or what?”

  “Just hope he can.”

  LUKE TRIED to hide his contempt for the forty-something, balding millionaire sitting across from him. Maybe if Steve hadn’t driven up in a car that cost as much as Luke’s condo, they could have found some common ground. But between the expensive business suit and general air of disgust for the chosen rendezvous spot as reflected in his sour look, Steve Samson made his position quite clear. He viewed himself as above it all. This was a task he had to perform. It was less about real concern than it was about familial duty.

  Luke found Steve’s oversize ego laughable. The man came off as the older, less attractive, less polished Samson brother. Extra pounds sat around his middle and disdain dripped off him. But the reality was simple. In a competition with Phil on style and public opinion, Steve lost.

  In the ultimate insult, Phil was even blessed with a full head of hair and a chin that didn’t dissolve into the rolls on his neck. It had to suck to be outshone so brightly.

  “I know this is a sensitive topic.” Steve used a napkin to wipe the crumbs off the table and onto the floor.

  “How so?”

  “You have a…history, shall we say, with Claire.”

  Luke glanced around the empty shop. No one would notice or complain if he punched Steve in the face. If the conversation kept going like this, that was a significant possibility.

  “We were engaged.”

  “Yes, that’s right.” Steve leaned his elbows against the table before sitting up straight again and brushing off his sleeves.

  “And she picked your brother over me. So?”

  Saying the words made Luke bite the inside of his cheek. His job was to pretend to give a crap about what Steve had to say. To suck it up and play along. Still, talking about Claire with a family member who welcomed her, then discarded her made Luke want to flip the table over.

  “In light of the circumstances I would think you’d be grateful.”

  “For?”

  “Being left behind.”

  Luke hated this guy more with each passing second. “Interesting choice of words.”

  “My brother is dead. You could be, as well, if you had been Claire’s true target.” Steve made the statement with a detachment that left Luke cold.

  Luke didn’t have a sibling. He had never really known his mother. She’d skipped out of the military lifestyle long before he was old enough to become attached to her. But he had his dad. They moved and shuffled, but belonged to each other. When his dad died, Luke lost something. A piece of him broke off inside. Crumbled. Yet Steve sat there thinking his baby brother was gone and talking about it with all the emotion one would normally reserve for reading the sports page.

  “Has Phil’s death been confirmed?”

  “There isn’t another explanation.” Stev
e touched the top of Luke’s phone. “Why, if Claire has nothing to hide, is she running?”

  Luke fought the urge to pull his cell out of reach. “Why are you asking me?”

  “I thought it might be possible that you’d spoken with her.” Steve’s eyes gleamed.

  The guy reminded Luke of a trapped animal. A feral one. “We didn’t exactly break up on good terms.”

  “Of course, but I thought it conceivable that…” Steve shot Luke a man-to-man look, one that suggested a deeper familiarity than they would ever share. “Well, please understand that how you lead your private life is not my concern.”

  Luke felt the heat rise in his cheeks. “I think we can agree on that much.”

  “There was some suggestion that Claire might have continued to see you after she married my brother.” Steve held up a hand. “I’m not judging. She is a beautiful woman. There’s something about her that worms its way into a man’s life before he can build a wall to keep her out.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Certainly you agree with my assessment of Claire, what with the way she discarded you. Unless, of course, the rumors are true and she never did.”

  Hearing this man say her name made Luke’s hands ball into fists. “Who’s been suggesting that?”

  “That’s not important.”

  “It is to me.”

  “My point is that after all of her maneuvering and lies, you might be of a mind to tell me where she is.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “If so, I might be in a position to help you in return.”

  “You’re talking money.” Luke was surprised it took Steve this long to whip out the checkbook and compare balances.

  “You strike me as a practical man, Luke Hathaway.”

  “True.”

  “And I am someone who appreciates information. I think we could make our objectives work together, don’t you?”

  Only if your objective has something to do with being punched in the face. “I’d think with all of your resources, Steve, you would have been able to track down one woman by now.”

  “She is well financed.”

  There was news. From what he could tell Claire didn’t have enough cash to buy a pair of socks. “I thought she walked out of the marriage without anything.”