Wanted by a Dangerous Man Read online

  “Hold this.” He pressed the bundle into my hand, put the tools between his teeth, backed up more, then ran at the building. He jumped gracefully and caught the bottom of a ledge that I hadn’t even noticed.

  If someone saw him… I glanced around. There wasn’t anyone in the area, though. We were too far from the road.

  He pulled, and his body seemed to float up, allowing him to hook one of his feet on the narrow ledge. I was in pretty good shape, but I hadn’t been able to do a chin-up without grunting since I was in elementary school and weighed sixty pounds. But then I wasn’t wrapped in muscle.

  His foot slipped off the ledge, leaving him hanging by his fingertips. He pulled—still no grunting. When his chin was level with the ledge, he rocked back a little, then swung himself up so that his long body pressed against the grate. I stared in shock.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised. The first time I saw Corbin’s sculpted muscles, I knew that he didn’t get that way just from pushing weight around in a gym.

  Apparently I needed to ask Corbin a lot more questions. Rather, I needed to make him answer a lot more questions, not get distracted by his sex voodoo.

  He gripped the grate and worked at a lock on the inside. He was balanced only on his toes. I held my breath, but after a moment, half of the grate came away.

  He looked over his shoulder, and I hurried over to catch the grate. I carefully laid it against the building, then put the second half next to it.

  “Watch out,” he said. I stepped back, and he dropped the tools onto the ground. I retrieved them and folded them into the bundle, then stuffed it back into my pocket.

  Getting the window open took him longer than getting up there, which would have been funny if I hadn’t been so worried that he was about to fall backward and break his neck. But he got it open, disappeared inside. Light flared, then dimmed. Flashlight, and he must have been muting the beam with a cupped hand. It was something I had to do fairly often.

  He reappeared at the window. “Go to the front,” he said, gesturing. “I’ll let you in.”

  A car drove by as I reached the street. The driver didn’t spare me a second glance. A few minutes later, the door opened.

  I slipped inside. “That was very cool and very stupid.”

  “You could have stopped at cool,” he suggested. “But you’re right. It was stupid. There are homeless people living on the other side of the building, so clearly there’s a much easier way in. But to impress you? I’d say it was worth it.”

  “Don’t forget the stupid part.” We walked up two flights of wide concrete stairs, Corbin lighting my path. Workmen had been active in the building not so long ago. I stepped over a few empty water bottles and a pair of cracked safety goggles, everything covered in a distinct but shallow layer of dust.

  Corbin opened a window. It didn’t have grates on the other side, being three floors up. The moonlight filtering in through the window muted Corbin’s features. I wanted to touch him, feel every inch of his body under my fingertips, convince myself that he was real and not fading into a dream. But it wasn’t the time to lust after him, so I reluctantly turned my attention back to work.

  Across the way, nothing was happening. Even the light that had been on was now extinguished. I leaned against the wall. “I really hope Syre didn’t sneak out the front door.”

  Corbin gave me a funny look. “It’s self-preservation. Maybe his life isn’t literally on the line, but to him, it certainly feels like it. Guy like that is paranoid as hell. The last thing he’ll do is use the front door.”

  It was a good point. “I take back the stupid comment.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t realize you were making a character assessment.”

  “I wasn’t. But I’d rather erase the insult than call you smart.”

  Corbin leaned forward and retrieved a coil of rope. He pulled on a section, testing it, and I stifled a sneeze as dust floated in the air.

  He glanced at me. “So the next time I do something smart, you’ll have to compliment me?”

  My answer was consumed in a brief but uncontrollable sneezing fit.

  Movement in the building across from us caught my attention, and a curtain inched back.

  “Busted,” Corbin whispered.

  “How do you know it’s him?” Even though I’d reached the same conclusion, Corbin’s thought processes intrigued me.

  “It’s not late, the lights are off, and someone is acting sketchy as hell. This is going to be easier than I thought.” He leveled a calculating glance at me, then pulled me back into the darkness of the warehouse, toward the steps. “The sooner we get him, the sooner I have you to myself. I’ll do it.”

  “What?”

  He shrugged. “This is the equivalent of an easy day for me. We’ll be done here soon, then I can take you to a hotel room and fuck you like you stole something.”

  “Cheesy.”

  He nodded, then checked outside the door to see if anyone was in the area. “You’re right. But you have to admit it makes a good image.” He pulled a tight, stocking-like cap over his dark hair, then fitted a short-haired sandy-brown wig over it. “You know what else makes a good image?”

  “Not only don’t I know, I think I’d prefer to keep it that way. By the way, you carry more in that coat than most women do in a purse.”

  “You, naked, cream pie. Yum.”

  “What’s this obsession with condom-less sex? Is that kind of commitment the equivalent of a marriage proposal where you come from?”

  “No,” he said, his voice getting a little cold. “Where I come from, a marriage proposal is a marriage proposal. I happen to like the idea of pumping you full of come.”

  I had to admit that the thought of having sex, nothing between us, turned me on. But still.

  “Come outside in five minutes and drive the car up to the side door.”

  “Five minutes? Why? What…”

  He went off, and I moved so that I could watch through the crack in the door. His large body seemed to fold in on itself. He changed everything: the way he walked, the way he carried himself. I thought I was halfway decent at recognizing a disguise, but Corbin’s metamorphosis went far beyond that. He transformed.

  I looked at the time. Corbin and his jism obsession. Maybe bareback was just bareback, but I wasn’t used to exclusive, so for me, yeah, it kinda was like a marriage proposal. Though I had no idea how Corbin expected to coordinate such an arrangement. The guy couldn’t even restrict himself to one continent.

  Why did he want me? What made me so special? Sure, we had a playful taunting thing, and the sex was incredible. Putting his job aside, he was the perfect man. I, on the other hand… was just average. There had to be more. Could it be that saving me had triggered some sort of oxytocin-fueled attachment between us? Or was he using me, bribing me with sex to keep me quiet?

  I rolled my eyes at myself and checked the time again, then slowly made my way to the street. It was quiet. No couples walking by, no stray cats. Overhead, streetlights flickered soundlessly.

  I got the car and drove around to the side entrance. I trusted Corbin’s confidence; he surely had a plan. I just wished I knew what it was.

  A moment later, Syre walked out wearing a long, wool coat, a checkered scarf, and supple black gloves. The wind ruffled his combover. Even though he was in hiding, he exuded a self-entitled arrogance. He quickly looked left and right, then hurried over to the car and got in.

  I stared at my unexpected passenger in shock. What the hell had Corbin done?

  “Are you just going to sit there?” The bitch was silent, but I heard it loud and clear.

  “Um, ok.” I put the car in drive and slowly moved forward, trying to figure out how Corbin had convinced the man to deliver himself to me.

  Corbin stepped out, and I slammed on the brakes. Syre groaned. “That’s one of those fucking bounty hunters,” he said.

  Whoa. So who did Syre think I was?

  “Run that bastard over.”
He yanked on the steering wheel. Pointlessly, because the car wasn’t moving. It would have been comical except his desperation freaked me out.

  “Don’t think that’s a bounty hunter,” I said slowly, trying to gather my wits about me.

  “No offense, but you have no idea what you’re talking about. He told me that if I didn’t pay him twenty grand, he was going to turn me in.”

  I fought a smile. “Maybe you should have paid it.”

  “Maybe you should do your job,” he growled. “Run the asshole over and get me out of here.”

  “I’m blocked. There’s no other way out, and I can’t run him over. I have an idea, though.” I reached into the well of my door and pulled out cuffs. “I’ll pretend to be a bounty hunter. He’ll have to back off. It’s the law.” I said it confidently, hoping Syre wouldn’t realize I was full of crap.

  He laughed. “You? No one would believe that.”

  Anger made my face flood hot, and I slapped the cuff on his left hand. “Trust me. He’ll believe it.”

  He stared at his wrist, then looked suspiciously at me. Corbin hunched over, staring at the car as if he couldn’t see inside. Then he looked at Syre, and his face hardened.

  “Give me your fucking arm!” I screamed, and Syre did it, his hands shaking so badly that I thought he might accidentally cut himself on the serrated edge of the single strand. The cuffs snapped closed, and I rolled down the window. “Sorry, but I’m taking this man in.”

  Corbin nodded. “You win,” he said. He strode to Syre’s door, opened it and jerked Syre into the street. “Unlock the back seat.”

  “What?” It only took Syre about half a second to figure out that whoever I was, I wasn’t a friend. He started to scream for help, but Corbin stuffed him into the back, then got in himself.

  “Don’t hurt him. The police won’t accept him if he’s banged up,” I said.

  The phone rang. It was Rob, music blasting in the background. I said smugly, “I’ve got Syre.”

  In the rear-view mirror, I saw that Corbin had a hand on Syre’s shoulder, keeping the man from head-butting me. Ok, that was something that I majorly hated about my job. Most people were surprised to learn that physically apprehending a fugitive was often a low-drama event. The criminals often came along quietly, usually resigned to the inevitability of their capture. However, being a 5’4” woman meant I was much smaller than the people I usually tracked, and my size sometimes gave them ideas. My father, on the other hand, was so large that no one tried to knock him down and take off. Sure, they’d sometimes run, but they wouldn’t dream of attacking him. If Corbin hadn’t been there, I would have had my pepper spray out.

  “What do you mean you’ve got him?” Rob asked. The music stopped.

  “Picked him up. He’s cuffed in my back seat. Where are you?”

  “We’re about five minutes away.”

  That was better than perfect. “Great. I’ll turn him over to you.”

  Corbin gave me a thumbs-up from the back seat.

  I fretted while we waited for my brother to arrive. Rob never bothered to look at the Most Wanted lists, but Kat sometimes did. And Corbin had been on the list long enough that even if she missed a month here and there, she still would have seen him multiple times.

  Kat’s SUV seemed to come out of nowhere. She swerved and stopped in front of me, and I put up an arm to shield my eyes from the brightness.

  “Headlights,” Corbin suggested, a tiny bit of tension in his voice. I understood. They would be able to see clearly into my car if I didn’t blind them in return. I clicked the lights on, got out, and opened the back door.

  Syre lurched out, tense and shaking. He looked around wildly, and it was so clear that he was trying to choose a direction to run that I almost laughed. With his hands cuffed together in front of him, he wouldn’t get far.

  Kat jumped out and took control of Syre. She was about my brother’s size, 5’10”, and had been a shot-put champion in high school and college. Syre’s shoulders slumped, and when Kat prodded him, he docilely trudged to the SUV, his neck bowed. Rob attached the cuffs to a ring in the back seat, then returned.

  He cleared his throat. “Who’s that?”

  I turned and saw that Corbin now stood behind me. He had the knit cap low around his ears, and he wore glasses. He took a step forward and stretched out his hand. “Cory,” he said, his voice and mannerisms soft, polite. “So nice to meet you, Rob. I’ve heard good things.”

  Cory?

  My bounty-hunter brother and my wanted-man boyfriend shook hands. I stood there, a lump in my throat. Corbin draped an arm around my shoulders. “That was exciting,” he said, inching the glasses up his nose with an index finger.

  Rob gave me a puzzled look. “How did you get Syre? ”

  “Oh, old Hoboken realized he didn’t want a life on the lam,” I said.

  Rob glanced back at the SUV. “Really? Because everything in the notes… I would have thought he’d be prepared to hide forever.”

  I shrugged. “Got lucky, I guess. Anyway, I’m off the next few days.”

  “Me, too,” Rob said.

  Kat tapped the horn, and Rob started walking backward. “Wanna grab dinner tomorrow?” he called out. “Got some office stuff to settle.”

  Before I could answer, Corbin cleared his throat. “We’re going away for a few days.”

  I stared at him. “We are?”

  “You caught the guy. You said that it was all you needed to get off work, so let’s go away.” He made deliberate eye contact with my brother. “Assuming the office stuff can wait.”

  My brother grinned. “It sure can.” He said it in a tone of voice that meant I was going to get a prying phone call later, and I’d be expected to explain where this guy had come from and why I was dating Henry when I had someone already. I wasn’t looking forward to it.

  We got in the car, and I turned to Corbin. “What makes you so certain that I’ll go away with you?”

  “Other than the look in your eyes when I said it?”

  “You are so goddamn smug.”

  Kat backed out of the little road, and then she turned right. She quickly twisted in the seat, trying to get a better look at Corbin, no doubt. I wondered what she and Rob were discussing.

  My entire family would know about it within a day. I sighed. “You do realize that now you’ve got a company of bounty hunters aware of your existence?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is wrong with you?”

  He adjusted the seat, making room for his long legs. “How much time do you have?”

  Not enough, actually. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” I urged my car onto the road, heading home.

  “We don’t have to leave town. How about a top hotel, since you don’t like the new house?” He paused. “Or how about the house from before?”

  The prospect of a few days holed up with Corbin set my cheeks aflame. Corbin, cooking his delicious meals. Sitting and talking on the sofa, our limbs tangled together. Teasing him. His penchant for spending hours in nothing but flannel pajama bottoms tied low on his hips, giving me the perfect view of wide shoulders tapering to six-pack abs…

  “I’m only agreeing to this because you helped me catch that guy. What did you say to him anyway?”

  He smiled. “I told him Roland sent me, that he—”

  “Wait. Who is Roland?” I felt him give me a hard look. “What?”

  “Roland is one of his cronies. Didn’t you read up on the guy?”

  I nodded. “But Rob did all the interviews.” For once.

  “Ah.” He said it like he was a little surprised and disappointed in me. “I told him that I was a bounty hunter and that Roland had paid me off, that there was a car arriving soon and you’d get him somewhere safe. Then I told him I wanted more money.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the moment I said that, his brain decided that I was the threat. He never considered that I was lying about the rest of it. You know, for someone who
tracks down criminals, sometimes you’re surprisingly innocent.”

  I steered around a double-parked pizza delivery car. “You can’t see it, but I’m rolling my eyes. Does my innocence mean you’ll stop trying to hire me?”

  “Absolutely not. You’re gutsy and tenacious.”

  “Based on…?”

  “Coming after me in a snowstorm. Plotting to haul me in even though I’d saved your life. I think that if you were to get behind a cause you really cared about, nothing could stop you. Nothing.”

  Wow. There wasn’t anything I could say to that, so I concentrated on driving.

  I turned down my street. “Park and pack. I’ll come back in a few minutes with my car,” Corbin said.

  “Sure, Cory.”

  I ran inside to throw some clothes into a suitcase. Except that I didn’t have a suitcase, so I used a paper grocery bag, and I wouldn’t have even had that if I hadn’t ripped my reusable canvas bag recently.

  Corbin wasn’t back when I walked out. I stood, bouncing my weight from one foot to the other and trying to ignore the cold. I wondered how far away he’d parked. He was an unpredictable mix of paranoid and relaxed. How did he decide which things were worth stressing about and which to let go?

  A few minutes later, he pulled up in a dark blue sedan, and I hurried over. He got out. “I was going to take your suitcase…” He looked at my pathetic bag.

  “It’s a security measure,” I said. “No one would try to steal it.”

  “Won’t argue with you there.” He took it from me and placed it in the trunk. He stood there a moment, the lights from his car casting mysterious shadows on his face. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For not fighting me on this. You wanted to. I could see it in your eyes.”

  Now I wondered how he decided when to be arrogant and when to be kind.

  We stopped at the house with the hot tub. Corbin went inside, and I fiddled with the setting for my heated seat. Maybe it was time to consider getting a new car, because, heated seats!

  Corbin came out with two suitcases and threw them into the trunk with far less care than he’d shown with my brown paper bag.

  “You pack like a girl,” I said when he got back in the car. “What are you lugging around, heads as trophies?”