Bulletproof Seal

“Maybe she did all that so she could dial in the CIA and have them recapture you. Maybe she didn’t want you hobnobbing with the North Koreans, possibly passing them intel.”

“I don’t believe that, not...Ariel. If that’s what she wanted, my contact at the bar would’ve followed through with our assignment without alarming me, and then she could’ve sent the FBI to pick me up and arrest me.” Rikki slid from the stool and edged around the counter into the kitchen. “That’s not how this went down.”

“Maybe the contact himself went rogue. Maybe he recognized you.”

She made a half turn from the fridge, a bottle of water in her hand. She raised it. “In this getup? Just because you had me figured out immediately doesn’t mean some CIA agent is going to recognize me from a photo in a briefing on spies within the Agency. Dark hair, dark eyes...” She patted her hip. “A few extra pounds. This is a damned good disguise.”

When she touched her body, Quinn’s gaze followed her hand. Rikki had always been long and lean. He tracked up the curve of her hip to the loose blouse draped over her form, brushing the ample swell of her breasts.

He swallowed hard. He’d always enjoyed Rikki’s slim, athletic build—especially given their marathon lovemaking sessions in...unusual places and circumstances. But for the first time this crazy evening, he noticed the new softness of her body—the way her jeans hugged her derriere and thighs, the seductive sway of her hips when she walked, the way her blouse pulled tight across her breasts when she spread her arms or gestured. His erection pulsed again.

Then he blinked. Rikki hadn’t just escaped from a North Korean labor camp. She’d been recuperating somewhere.

Quinn cleared his throat. “God, it’s late. You’re bunking here tonight, and I don’t want to hear any arguments.”

She snapped her mouth closed and chugged some water from the bottle. “Okay, but just so we’re clear you’re sleeping in the bed and I’m taking the couch.”

Quinn’s erection ached for relief, and he tugged on the hem of his cargo shorts. “Yeah, of course, but I have a sofa bed in my office and you can have that.” He opened his mouth in a pretend yawn. “We can try to figure out what happened to your contact tomorrow. If you still trust her, get in touch with Ariel.”

Rikki sloshed some water in her mouth before swallowing. “Do you happen to have an extra toothbrush?”

“I’m on leave, and you’re in luck because I just went to my dentist two weeks ago. I think he’s under some misconception that the navy supplies me with one toothbrush every two years, because he loaded me up. They’re in the second drawer on the right. This place has two bathrooms, so you’re welcome to the other one.”

“I’ll take the water with me to bed.” She swept her small purse from the counter. “This is good. I’ll get a good night’s sleep and regroup in the morning. I’m sure Ariel will have an explanation for me.”

“If you think you can trust her.”

“I do.” She turned at the entrance to the hallway. “Thanks for your assistance tonight, Quinn. Maybe I did want you to see that text after all.”

“You can always ask me, Rikki. You can ask me for anything.”

A smile trembled on her lips, and then she disappeared down the hallway.

Cocking his head to the side, Quinn listened as she got a toothbrush from his bathroom and then shut herself in the other one.

He sprinted down the hall and ducked into the second bedroom. He pulled out the sofa bed, darted to his bedroom, snagged a pillow from his bed and tossed it onto the sofa bed. Despite his best efforts at a quick assembly, Rikki hovered at the door of the office as he dragged a blanket across the bed.

“Just making up the sofa bed. Did you find the toothbrush and toothpaste okay?”

“Yep.” She ran her tongue along her teeth.

“Okay, then. Tomorrow.” His gaze darted to Rikki still propping up the doorjamb. She didn’t expect him to squeeze past her, did she? He couldn’t handle that.

A few seconds later that seemed like minutes, Rikki pushed herself off the door. “Nice apartment. I had memorized your address from...before. I was hoping you still lived here.”

He spread his arms. “Still here. Sleep tight.”

He practically ran from the room, slamming the door behind him. Sleep tight? What did that even mean, anyway?

He brushed his own teeth and studied his reflection in the mirror. He needed a shave—and an attitude adjustment. Rikki didn’t want him anymore. She’d made that clear before. And after he’d gone on a mission to assassinate her? Yeah, pretty much killed any thread of a chance he had left with her. Now if he could only send that message to his body.

He yanked the covers back from his bed and pulled off his T-shirt. He unzipped the fly on his shorts and hooked his thumbs in the band of his briefs as he started to take them down with his shorts. He usually slept naked, but maybe leaving on his underwear would protect him from lustful thoughts about Rikki.

He crawled between the sheets, rolled on his side, then the other side, and then flopped onto his back, one arm flung across his face. Briefs, no briefs, fully clothed, suit of armor—didn’t matter. Rikki Taylor was in his blood, and now she was back in his life.

About an hour later on the edge of another feverish dream, Quinn bolted upright in bed, his heart racing. He paused and heard the noise that had awakened him.

Someone pounded on the door again.

Quinn rolled out of bed and grabbed the gun on his nightstand. He crept toward the front door and paused, holding his breath.

The pounding resumed, following by a groan and a shout. “Quinn? Quinn, you there?”

Quinn drew his brows over his nose and released the locks. He eased open the door, and a man fell across the threshold, bruised and bloody.

“Quinn, you gotta help me. They’re gonna kill me.”

Chapter Five (#ud8f13364-d3f5-57ea-824a-f2159eb7c65d)

With her blouse pulled on over her panties, Rikki tiptoed to the office door, the gun Quinn had taken from her abductor clutched in her hand.

She opened the door a crack and sucked in a breath as the men’s voices, Quinn’s and someone else’s, carried down the hallway.

Had he called someone to take her in?

She rubbed her eyes. If that were the case, the guy wouldn’t be banging on the front door in the wee morning hours. She pressed her ear to the gap in the door, wrinkling her nose. She couldn’t hear a damned thing.

With the gun leading the way, she edged down the hallway and tripped to a stop.

Quinn looked up from tending to a badly beaten man stretched out on his living room floor. “Put down that gun and soak some towels with water.”

The authoritative tone of his voice had her jumping into action. She placed the weapon on the kitchen counter and scurried back to the hallway, where she rummaged through a few shelves, sweeping towels into her arms.

In the kitchen, she ran two of the towels beneath the faucet until they were soaked and dropped next to Quinn attending to the injured man.

As Quinn checked the man’s injuries, Rikki dabbed the cuts on his face with the corner of a damp towel. “Who is he?”

“CIA.”

Rikki dropped the towel and jerked back. “You called him?”

Quinn spit out between clenched teeth, “I did not. He just showed up on my doorstep like this. I don’t know what the hell he’s doing here, but he’s a friend, and I’m not turning him away.”

“O-of course not.” Rikki grabbed the towel and continued cleaning the man’s facial wounds. “What happened to him?”

“I don’t have a clue. He appeared and collapsed.”

The man moaned, and Quinn leaned in close. “Jeff, Jeff. What happened?”