A Covert Affair (Deadly Ops #5)(31)
That familiar urgency hummed through him, an insistent buzz as he made his way to her house. He walked past her driveway, continuing to look for any signs of life. In the distance he heard the rumble of an engine as a car drove past her quiet little street and a dog barking, but nothing else.
Where her and her neighbor’s front yard connected, he turned, moving straight for the privacy fence guarding her backyard. He tested the latch once, smiled when he found there was no lock. If there had been, he’d have just scaled the fence, but this made his life easier. One less step to take.
Heart pounding, he slipped through the fence, letting it quietly close behind him. He moved quickly along the stucco wall, hoping she didn’t have security sensors. When he reached the end of the house, the wide double lights didn’t flick on. He allowed himself a sigh of relief before he peered around the corner. He eyed the small open porch with patio furniture. Nothing out of the ordinary and only one dim light visible through a small square window.
If he had to guess, he’d say it was coming from the kitchen. People often left on a light in their house when they went to bed at night, either in the kitchen or living room. The size of the window indicated a kitchen. Using the shadows as cover, he moved along the back of the house until he reached the patio.
The back door had a pitiful lock, one he picked in less than sixty seconds. All his muscles pulled tight as he slowly opened the back door. It creaked slightly, making him pause.
No movement inside.
He pushed it open farther, just enough so he could slip inside. He found himself in a mudroom that opened right into the kitchen. He’d been right. A pale yellow glow shone over a double sink.
Sid pulled out his Taser, ready to wrap this job up now. All he had to do was subdue her and then he’d restrain her arms and legs and gag her. After that he’d pull his SUV into the driveway and dump her in the back. Simple.
His rubber-soled boots were silent as he moved through the house, checking the living room first to make sure she hadn’t fallen asleep on the couch.
When he reached the hallway, two bedroom doors were closed, but the one at the end was cracked open. A very thin stream of light peeked out the crack. Maybe she had a night-light.
Blood rushed in his ears as he bypassed the other rooms and made a beeline for the last one. No sense in checking the other two when his gut told him exactly where she was.
This door didn’t creak when he pushed it open with his boot. He smiled to himself when he saw her lying there on the queen-size bed, dark hair pillowed around her beautiful face. She was peacefully sleeping.
Not for long, he thought perversely.
He got a hard-on seeing her like that, hated that he couldn’t do anything about it. He paused a moment, just watching her, savoring this time. In a few seconds he’d see the fear in her eyes as he woke her up. It wouldn’t last long because he couldn’t afford to let her make any noise, but for those precious moments, there would be confusion and then terror in her eyes. He craved seeing it from his victims. It was his one guilty pleasure.
After he dropped her off to his boss, he’d find some action in no time. If he couldn’t find a willing woman at a bar, he’d just hire someone.
Chapter 8
Hooking: to set up a target using a specific lure (bait).
Nathan automatically stood as Amelia stepped into her living room, all the muscles in his body pulling taut. “What the hell are you wearing?” he practically shouted, earning a pissed-off look from her and surprise from Elliott, Cade, and Maria—who was simply there for moral support.
“A little black dress. Pretty standard for a date.” Her words were edgy, stress cracking through her calm facade.
Which made him feel like a dick, even as he suppressed that primal, possessive instinct to keep her safe, to call off phase two of this op. It had been a day and a half since their “lunch date,” since that fucker Mercado had asked Amelia out. The time had passed too quickly from then to now. He’d been working, running down leads, and she’d been working and living her life as normal. Things had to be as normal as possible in case anyone was watching her. So far the NSA hadn’t found that to be so, but they weren’t taking any chances. He’d resisted the urge to call her, to check in. It would have been stupid and weak.
“You look perfect,” Maria said, shooting a quick frown at Nathan before looking at Amelia again. “A perfect blend of sexy and classy.”
The dress was slim-fitting and had a high collar with black lace, but it was short enough to show off a lot of leg. Too much leg, in his opinion. He didn’t want anyone else seeing all that smooth skin. Didn’t matter that he had no claim on her, that he should just get the fuck over her; he couldn’t help imagining peeling the dress slowly off her body—so he knew Mercado would be thinking the same thing.
When she turned toward Elliott, answering something the analyst asked, Nathan saw that the back of the dress had a wide circular cutout in the center, revealing most of her back and dipping low enough that it sloped too close to that luscious ass for his comfort. Annoyance surfaced, but he reined in his own bullshit.
Mercado would be picking her up for their date and she needed to be calm and sure of herself, not questioning anything about tonight. Ever since their date, though, and those light kisses, Nathan had been all twisted up inside. He couldn’t even lie to himself and say he’d been acting or role-playing.