Page 42 of Winters Heat

He placed a disposable cell phone in front of her. “And you, beautiful… I’ll call you later. Burner phone. Another fun toy. If you have to call someone to let them know you’re safe on your vacation, use this one. If you need to talk to me, I’m the first number programmed in.”

Colby placed a kiss on her lips that took her breath away, stilling all the concern and apprehension she felt in his home, with his baby. And in its place, she relished the bold attraction that bloomed. She was too overcome, and slightly embarrassed, at the casual intensity of his kiss to see if Judith saw them.

Clara finished her bottle, and her sleepy eyes hung heavy. Colby scooped her out of Mia’s arms and placed her up against his shoulder. The baby wore a pink flower onesie and matching footed pants with ruffles on the bottom. She was a stark contrast to Colby’s combat boots, dark camo pants, and ass-kicker shirt.

Mia knew he wore his Glock tucked into a holster under his shirt and saw the tactical knife secured against his calf. Both weapons were secure and safe from the curious reach of the baby.

He burped Clara, his huge hand spanning the width of the sleeping baby, and left the kitchen. As he bounded into the kitchen again, he flipped on the switch for the baby monitor sitting on the counter. Mia listened to the last few notes of the mobile play a lullaby as he waved good-bye to her and his mom, grabbed his keys, and walked toward the garage door.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Titan headquarters was a fortress, a high-tech lair with Fort Knox-like security. It was cold. Impenetrable. His home away from home.

Winters stared over Parker’s shoulder at the wall of flat screens. Computer systems that NASA could only dream about continually scoured through data and satellite images like electronic wallpaper. Ones and zeroes danced a techie tango. High-resolution topography shuffled from one covert location to the next. The hub monitored their operations around the world. Teams he didn’t know, but would go through hell to assist, were mere blips on an observation screen and surrounded by all the intel that could possibly help.

“Where’s Jared?” Winters ran his hand over the smooth war room table. Many a high stakes battle plan had been drawn there.

Parker didn’t look from his wall of screens. “Most likely thinking of ways to torture people.”

If Jared developed new techniques, Winters would love to try them on the fuckers chasing Mia. He’d try anything, experimental or not, if it meant a slow and painful demise.

“We need a plan of action. Otherwise, I’m just going to start picking off anyone I don’t know. Titan’s legal bill will spiral into the cataclysmic category.”

Parker spun in his swivel chair to face him. “You’re not going to like this, but I’ll bet my Ducati for your new WaveRunner, he’ll want to use Mia as bait.”

“No. We’ve already been down that road, and I’m not doing it again. We can use the NOC list as bait. We can use me as bait. I’ll string that bike up like a piece of NOC list meat. But Mia is a no go.”

“Whoever these guys are, they’ll follow her. She’s the easy target.”

“You’d think with all of your damn brains and Jared’s ‘been there, done everything’ attitude, you two could come up with something more original.” Winters picked at his nail with his keys. “Shit. Easy target. I don’t want to hear it.”

“That’s a lot of whining, Winters. Bring it up with Jared when you see him. You might as well grab some grub, I’m not going to be done for a few hours.” Parker put his earbuds in and turned back to the screen.

“Would’ve been nice if Jared mentioned that when he said to get my ass to work.” Winters spun on his heels and hurried to his vehicle. He couldn’t get home fast enough.

***

Juan Carlos Silva rang Diego’s phone all morning. No answer. Several possibilities crawled through his mind. The two most promising excuses were death or prison. Death was preferable. If Diego were incarcerated in an American prison, Juan Carlos would have to kill him later.

Juan Carlos ran a hand over his smooth cheeks. He was so close to that list and that woman. How he wanted her now. A prize for his troubles. A bonus for the headache this American jaunt had caused him.

It wasn’t as if he assigned an underling. He sent a capable, lethal man. Diego had never disappointed before. He’d never needed punishment, encouragement, or extensive lessons. No, Diego wanted to be in good graces. He wanted to be a leader. He’d never given Juan Carlos a reason to plan for his execution. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Diego might have been a pupil, his very own puppet, but he was expendable. Just like all the rest.

Juan Carlos cracked his knuckles and knocked back the last of the amber liquor in his highball glass. “Have Alejandro brought to me.”

Someone always listened for his orders. His staff would find his number two and send for him immediately, though none of them would venture near the man unless requested. Alejandro looked like a gorilla, snarled like a barracuda, and stunk like a sweat-soaked gladiator under the high sun. If he weren’t a valuable resource, Juan Carlos wouldn’t let him within one hundred kilometers of his estates. But he was valuable, and he’d more than earned his title of second in command. Alejandro developed ways to torture that made him cringe.

Before he could refill his glass from the crystal decanter, Alejandro Suarez ambled into the room. An Uzi was draped over his shoulder like a child’s backpack, but nonetheless, he addressed Juan Carlos with a reverent tilt of his head. “You sent for me, Senor.”

“Diego is failing. If he’s not dead, he soon will be.”

Alejandro nodded. Perhaps hoping to carry out the death order.

“Do whatever it takes to bring me that woman and the list. You should fly out this afternoon. Head to Washington, DC. You can have access to any of my resources you should deem necessary.”

Alejandro smiled with the sadistic look Juan Carlos knew would fix his problems. His number two wanted the woman. He hadn’t given him a woman of his own in weeks. It was like tossing a meaty bone to a Rottweiler. A day later, he would be picking his teeth with a rib bone.

Juan Carlos hated to sacrifice his bestselling product, especially the assumed caliber of Mia Kensington. A little older than he liked, but she had shown fight. Men paid well for that attribute. But if Alejandro succeeded, he’d give the man whatever he wanted.

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