Bugger it all.There was that green-eyed monster again.
Christian turned back to the lock and gave it his full attention. Two seconds later, the pins fell into place and the front door swung open on squeaky hinges. The alarm let out a series of warning chirps thatreminded Christian of the many times in his misguided youth when he’d smashed through the window of the corner store or the local Tesco to filch some food after his mother had squandered their government support check at the pub.
Angel wasted no time jogging inside. After a quick three-sixty spin, the former Mossad agent spotted the alarm keypad on the wall. Pulling off the casing, he didsome quick work with the wires. Five seconds later, the alarm blipped off.
Christian could admit, if only to himself, that Angelwasbloody good at the cloak-and-dagger stuff. Emphasis on thedagger.
Standing, Christian turned toward the car park and waved for the others to come inside. Rusty was the first to breeze past him in the open doorway. The redheaded giant whistled at the interiorof the manor house.
Ace followed Rusty inside, mimicking Rusty’s whistle. But given that Ace’s eyes were glued to Rusty’s ass, Christian was quite certain the flyboy’s appreciation had less to do with the house and more to do with the marine-cum-fisherman.
Emily was the last one through the door. Before she stepped all the way inside, however, she flattened a hand on Christian’s belly.
“Good idea about this place.” She flicked a quick glance around the marble-floored entry with its small wooden desk, pamphlets that gave a brief history and site map of the property, and wood-paneled walls. “This ismuchbetter than a moldy motel room or spending the next twenty-four hours cooped up in the truck.”
Thoughts. He should be having those. Words. He should be speaking them. Butthe second she touched him, a bolt of lightning blazed down his spine, shooting electricity into all his nerves, making speech or thought impossible.
“That was a compliment, Christian.” She snatched her hand away. The skin on his stomach throbbed in an exact outline of her handprint. “You’re supposed to say ‘thank you,’ or ‘no worries,’ or anything besides trying to glower me into the ground.And just FYI, I know we’re good at having wordless conversations, but I don’t speak glare-ish. So if you got somethin’ you wanna say to me, you’re gonna hafta spit it out.”
Ah. Andtherewas the blue-collar Bridgeport ’hood girl in all her bad grammar glory. Why he should find her so adorable was anyone’s guess.
“I haven’t anything to say.” That was a lie. He had a million things he wantedto say to her. A million more things he wanted to ask her. Like,whydid she always bust his bollocks? Andwhywas she so quick to scurry off Angel when she saw him standing at the corner? But he knew better than to rip open his chest and expose his heart. She might eat the bloody thing whole.
He lifted an eyebrow that asked,So? Was there anything else?
Her mouth thinned into a straightline that called himthe most exasperating man alive.
He tilted his head, his grin saying,What else is new?
Emily threw frustrated hands in the air and turned to march deeper into the house.
“Make yourselves familiar with your surroundings now,” he called to the others, who were already fanning out to inspect the place, “while the sun is still up and we can see what’s what.”
After sundown, they daren’t turn on the lights. That was a surefire way to bring unwanted attention to themselves. And since the manor house was tucked way back in the wood, no streetlamps for miles, it was going to get quite dark.
“You remember which way to the bathroom?” Emily glanced at Christian over her shoulder.
Her unbound hair was a curtain of drying waves against her slender back.An image blazed to life in his brain of how it would feel to wrap a length of her hair around his wrist so he could pull her head back and hold her still while his lips and tongue marauded over the tender flesh of her neck.
“Down the hall on the left.” He was shocked at the breathless sound of his voice.
“Thank you.” Her smile was so syrupy he was tempted to look around for a stack ofpancakes.
Sodding hell.He was cocking things up. Why couldn’t he act normal around her?
Oh, right. Because now he knew what it was to hold her in his arms, to kiss her sweet lips, to…loveher. Normal had pretty much gone the way of the dinosaurs.
* * *
Lawrence pulled his vehicle to the side of the gravel road and shoved it into Park.
“What are you on about now?” Ben demanded.“The manor house is a quarter mile up the way.”
“And if they’re holed up there,” Lawrence said, “we don’t wanna alert them to our presence.”
“Oh.” Ben nodded. “Right.” When he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bounced nervously.
Lawrence leveled a steely-eyed look at his younger brother. “Are you up for this? Tell me now if you’re not, ’cause you’ll slow me down and create a distractionI don’t need.”
