The Specialist Read online

  “I’ll be in touch,” Payne finally told Guy, dreading this with every fiber of his being, but anxious to get it over with nonetheless. The sooner he found the watch—or didn’t, whatever the case may be—the sooner he could get back to Atlanta and work. While he’d enjoyed his time in the military, Payne had to confess that he’d slipped into civilian mode without incident. Structure was structure no matter where one put it into practice, he supposed.

  Guy chuckled. “Happy hunting.”

  “Smart-ass.”

  “Hey, while you’re up there, why don’t you see if you can find the Holy Grail, as well?”

  Payne chewed the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. “Your time’s coming,” he reminded him. “Remember that.”

  Guy winced, suddenly serious. “Trust me. I’m not likely to forget.”

  He supposed not, Payne thought. And considering what Garrett had put him and Jamie through, Guy had every reason to worry. God only knew what sort of favor he’d ask of him.

  To hell with it, Payne thought, making his way into the terminal. He just wanted it to be over.

  And the sooner the better.

  EMMA DUTIFULLY CALLED her mother the instant she deplaned to let Lena know she’d arrived without incident. She was shoving her cell phone back into her bag when she suddenly collided with something big, hard and warm…and were it not for the equally big, warm hands clamped upon her upper arms, she would have toppled gracelessly to the ground.

  After emitting a very unladylike grunt, followed by a stinging curse, she looked up into the face of her savior and wished that she had fallen.

  Directly into a black hole.

  Cool winter blue eyes stared down at her and the hint of a smile lurked on a pair of lips which instantly made her think of slow deep kisses and hot frantic sex. She’d seen his mouth from a distance, of course—like the rest of him—but this up close and personal view was wreaking havoc in places that hadn’t had so much as a mild uprising in over a year. A warm tingle started in her midsection and radiated outward until it zinged into hot spots which would undoubtedly love his carnal mouth’s singularly focused attention.

  He had a reputation for being cool, detached, focused, methodical and foolproof and Emma would be lying if she hadn’t nursed a crush of sorts, a secret fantasy of being on the receiving end of that sort of…undivided attention. He wouldn’t merely seduce, he would consume, and the idea of being overcome by the mysteriously aloof Brian Payne was almost more than she could handle.

  It was unnerving. She’d expected to run into him in the course of her quest, but she hadn’t expected it to be in the literal sense.

  At the airport, no less.

  Still, she thought, reminding herself to breathe, this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. She knew he hadn’t gotten the jump on her, for starters.

  “I’m s-sorry,” Emma finally stammered awkwardly. She drew back, righting her purse and carry-on bag.

  “No problem,” he told her, that cool gaze assessing her, causing little hot-flashes to blink in rhythm to a mental warning light. “You’re not hurt, I hope.”

  Emma felt a sheepish grin tug at her lips. “The only thing aching at the moment is my pride, but it’ll recover.”

  The comment drew a vague smile. “You look familiar,” he said, seemingly trying to place her. “Have we met?”

  Mildly panicked, Emma shook her head. “Er…no, we haven’t,” she answered truthfully. They hadn’t been formally introduced…but they might have met in passing once or twice.

  “My mistake, then.”

  “Er…well, thank you for catching me,” she said, deciding it was time to end this little chat. She readjusted her bags, and started to move around him. “I appreciate it.”

  “No problem.”

  Before he could puzzle anymore over where he might have seen her, Emma made her way down the concourse. She could feel his gaze boring into her back and knew that he was only a few paces behind her without looking over her shoulder to see—she could feel him. She determinedly ignored the prickly sensation tingling at the nape of her neck, the restless heat suddenly swelling below her belly button and forced herself to think of something else.

  The money did the trick.

  She needed it too badly to let herself get sidetracked by a set of cool blue eyes and impossibly wide shoulders.

  Since she hadn’t checked any baggage—she’d managed to cram an entire week’s bulky winter wardrobe into her carry-on bag—she avoided baggage claim and made her way past the luggage carousels, directly to the car rental counter. From the corner of her eye she watched Payne snag a single black suitcase from the conveyer, then scan the various rental company signs until he found the one he wanted.

  Unfortunately, it was hers.

  Shit.

  Another one of those almost-but-not-quite implied smiles haunted his lips as he sauntered toward her. “We meet again,” he said. A gratifying flash of appreciation flared in those wintry eyes.

  Emma managed a weak grunt, which she was sure matched her equally weak smile. She wanted to have a general idea of his whereabouts and what he was up to, but having him tail her gave him too many opportunities to try to place her. Given his reputation, she knew if he made the connection it wouldn’t take long for him to figure the whole thing out. Then the one advantage she’d had would be lost.

  And that would be bad.

  Rather than wait for the clerk to ask for her name, Emma pulled out her ID and handed it to him before he could ask. “I’m in a bit of a hurry,” she said, hoping to spur the guy along.

  “Certainly.” He scanned his computer screen, then winced. “You reserved a sedan. Unfortunately, we’ve overbooked and only have a couple of vehicles left.”

  Emma tamped down her initial irritation, felt Payne’s interest shift from her to the car rental clerk. “What do you have left?” she asked, pleased that her voice didn’t climb right along with her blood pressure.

  He stroked a few keys, focusing on the computer screen. “Looks like we’ve got an H2 and—” He peered at the monitor, then looked up at her and grinned, showing enough metal in his mouth to power a small country. “And a VW Bug. How about I put you in that one?”

  Emma’s initial reaction was to say yes, the Bug would be fine. Truth be told, she’d always thought they were adorable and, if she’d been able to afford a new car, the VW was definitely what she’d want. But something about the clerk’s automatic assumption that she wouldn’t want—or couldn’t handle—the Hummer pricked a nerve. Furthermore, while the idea of her behind the wheel of the Bug was appealing, the idea of putting Payne behind it was even more so. She felt an evil smile tease her lips and had to forcibly resist the urge to look at him.

  Emma cleared her throat. “What happens to my rate?” she asked. She had to be practical, after all. “Will it go up?”

  He shook his head. “No, not since we weren’t able to accommodate your initial reservation.”

  Emma smiled brightly. “In that case, I’ll take the Hummer.”

  Though he hadn’t so much as moved a muscle, Emma could feel Payne’s displeasure bouncing off her, pinging her like sonar. Though it could only be her imagination, the temperature in the room seemed to plummet.

  Evidently the clerk felt it, too, because his chromelike smile faltered. “It’s an awfully big ride, ma’am,” he said, giving her a quick once over. “Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable in the Bug?”

  Yes, she probably would. But Payne would be more uncomfortable in the Bug and, at the moment, Payne’s discomfort was a lot more appealing. Furthermore, she might be small, but she was more than capable of handling the Hummer. She mentally rolled her eyes. Hell, it couldn’t be any more difficult than manning a tank.

  “I’m sure,” Emma told him. “In this instance, size matters,” she said, and thought she heard a little choked noise beside her. She winced, hoping to pull off a little vulnerability. “I’d feel safer in the Hummer.”

&nbs
p; “Of course,” he said, albeit reluctantly. He expelled a small breath and, looking as though he knew the coming exchange with his next customer was going to be unpleasant, printed out the necessary paperwork and handed her the keys. “I’ll let them know that you’re coming,” he said, indicating the outside staff.

  Emma grinned, snagged the keys and turned to leave. Her gaze tangled with Payne’s and the commingled flash of irritation, suspicion and grudging admiration she saw in those twin blue pools made her belly tip in a wild roll. He knew what she’d done—that she’d purposely chosen the Hummer to thwart him—and it suddenly occurred to Emma that her petty act of unwarranted revenge might have thrown up a red flag.

  In front of a legendary bull, no less.

  Oy.

  “Drive safely,” he murmured silkily as she walked past, his voice laced with an edge of menace that she found curiously thrilling.

  Never one to allow herself to be intimidated, Emma merely cocked a brow. “You, too,” she said. Then without sparing him another glance, she walked away, her stomach trembling.

  4

  PAYNE ORDINARILY DIDN’T make rash decisions. He was practical, methodical, focused—he relied on an economy of logic to lead him to his actions and decisions. This was his modus operandi, his preferred method of operation and yet one provoking slightly self-satisfied look and a cat-in-the-cream-pot smile from a hot little crackerjack of a female had totally thrown him off his game.

  Why else would he have decided to rent the Bug—when he could have just as easily gone to another car rental counter and gotten something more suitable?

  It was the height of illogical stupidity, and yet he couldn’t seem to help himself. There’d been something vaguely familiar about her when she’d plowed into him on the concourse. Certainly he’d never been introduced to her—there’s no way he would have forgotten those eyes.

  They were unforgettable.

  Deep blue, the shade of sugared violets and fringed with long, curly lashes. He’d kept her from falling, but only by sheer force of will had he kept his own feet beneath him when she’d looked up and her startled gaze had connected with his.

  Payne wasn’t accustomed to being shocked. Little if anything ever produced more than a ripple over the calm pond of his composure. He prided himself on his generally unerring ability to keep his emotions in check, on never losing control. It was the source of his strength, irrefutable proof that he wouldn’t be like his weak-willed father or his impetuous, unpredictable mother.

  To his immense discomfort and surprise, however, one look into the eyes of his mystery Hummer woman had done more than merely shake him up—she’d rocked his very foundation. Only an idiot would go after her, Payne thought as he scanned the line of rental vehicles, his gaze instantly alighting on her shapely rear as she climbed into the driver’s seat.

  He muttered a curse under his breath. She damn near needed a step ladder to get in the bloody SUV. At six and a half feet, Payne was used to being taller than most everybody, but he wasn’t just taller than her—he towered over her. She couldn’t be more than five one or two—he could easily pick her up with one hand—but what she lacked in height she more than made up for with attitude. An unwelcome flash of heat engulfed his loins, forcing him to clench his jaw.

  And sex appeal.

  He’d never had what one could call a preference when it came to what attracted him to the opposite sex, but whatever it was, this woman—whoever she was—had it in spades. She had short, black tousled-looking curls, those amazing eyes which had sucked the wind right out of his lungs, small elfinlike features—high cheekbones, a rather sharp nose and lips that put a man in mind of a ripe strawberry—and a strength of character, determination and the smallest hint of vulnerability which he instinctively knew she’d resent. She was small, but curvy and fit and, despite her petite size, she’d felt curiously right in his arms a few moments ago.

  In a word, she was fascinating.

  He’d spent a combined total of five minutes in her company and was so thoroughly intrigued that he’d allowed himself to be put into a VW Bug—a lime green one, no less, dammit, Payne realized as his gaze zeroed in on the little car. Ironically, it was parked directly in front of the Hummer and looked as if it was waiting to get squashed. His lips quirked.

  Furthermore, given the way the mystery woman precisely angled the mirrors, she looked strangely capable of doing the job herself, he thought, reluctantly impressed. She didn’t look the least bit apprehensive or worried about handling the monster-sized vehicle.

  Payne’s grim gaze slid to the Bug once more. He wasn’t worried about handling it, per se. What he was concerned about was fitting into the damned thing.

  Ultimately, that’s what had put her so firmly on his radar.

  Payne was pretty good at reading people, prided himself on his ability to size a person up. It had been a handy tool as a Ranger and, curiously, even handier in the private sector. He could easily discern a lie from the truth, knew when a prospective client was seeking his services for a dishonorable or legitimate cause. That keen ability had kept Ranger Security out of less desirable jobs and off the payroll of more than one unscrupulous character.

  When the car rental clerk had announced that he only had a couple of cars left, naturally Payne had gone on alert. He’d had a vested interest, after all, and it behooved him to pay close attention. As such, he’d watched her closely to see which car she would choose. She’d wanted the Bug—he’d known from the quick flash of wistfulness he’d seen in those remarkable eyes—and yet she’d ultimately chosen the Hummer.

  A wicked, gleeful glint had sparked to life in her gaze—detectable even from his profiled vantage point, and he’d realized with a start of his recently dulled insight that she’d chosen it simply to keep him from having it.

  He’d been shocked again. Twice within the space of a few minutes.

  He was a stranger, ostensibly someone whom she would have no desire to thwart or inconvenience…but she had. And she’d enjoyed it too much for it to have been mere coincidence. An interesting truth evolved from that line of thinking, one that piqued his interest and put him instantly on guard. He might find her only vaguely familiar, but she knew him.

  Which begged a million questions, the most pressing of which was, from where?

  Considering he’d only been in Atlanta six months and had spent the majority of his time prior to that time devoted to Uncle Sam, Payne imagined that there was most likely a military connection. As part of an elite Ranger team—Project Chameleon—he, Danny, Guy and Jamie had enjoyed a certain…status amid their peers. It was quite possible that she recognized him and thought it would be a perverse ego deflator to stick him with the Bug.

  Had he been anywhere but on his way to Gettysburg, he might have leaned toward that explanation. But considering the location and that niggling sense that Garrett hadn’t leveled with him, Payne thought otherwise. Somehow the two so-called coincidences were related and fortunately, with a simple phone call, he felt like he could determine how.

  Payne quickly checked in with the curbside rental help, then made his way to the Bug. Evidently having spotted him, the mystery woman immediately started the Hummer and competently angled it into traffic. Payne lost precious seconds trying to adjust the seat—he felt like a damned shark stuffed into a sardine can—but finally managed to jam it as far back as the track allowed and, shooting a look over his shoulder, smoothly fell in a few cars behind her. Fortunately the green Hummer was as conspicuous as his little car was. “Bet you hadn’t counted on that, had you, you crafty she-devil?” Payne muttered. Of course, she probably hadn’t counted on him following her either, but…

  He consulted his directions and breathed a silent sigh of relief when she chose the same interstate exit that he needed to carry him toward the Bed and Breakfast Garrett had booked for him. Using the heavy traffic to his advantage, he zoomed up long enough to make out the tag number of her vehicle, then fell back a few paces, allowing
himself to get momentarily hemmed in by a couple of eighteen wheelers.

  Probably not the brightest move, Payne thought in retrospect as he fought to keep the little car from getting blown off the road, but he wasn’t accustomed to driving something so damned…insubstantial. He thought longingly of his own SUV sitting in the Atlanta parking garage and determinedly snagged his cell phone from the clip at his waist. Time to put a name to the author of his recent misery, Payne decided.

  Guy answered his direct line on the second ring. “McCann.”

  “It’s me,” Payne told him. “I need you to run a plate for me.”

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  Payne gave him the abbreviated version, glossing over the galling “driving-a-Bug” bit, hoping that Guy wouldn’t notice. If he did, he’d roast him without mercy. “She’s in a rental. Run a complete background check. I want to know what’s going on here.” That was probably his biggest understatement to date, he thought, annoyed at how thoroughly tied up a petty prank had gotten him.

  “You think she’s the ‘something’ Garrett was hiding from you?” Guy asked, predictably following his line of thinking.

  Payne carefully negotiated traffic, noted once again that she’d taken the same route he was supposed to follow to the B&B. Another niggling suspicion began to form. He frowned. “I think there are one too many coincidences happening here,” he said grimly.

  “I’ll take care of it and get back with you ASAP.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

  Guy laughed. “You ought to appreciate me not ragging you about your rental car. Hell, I’d give up a nut for a picture of that.”

  Payne fought a smile. “You’d have to sacrifice both nuts and your drill bit, partner. Trust me, it’s not worth it.”

  Still laughing under his breath, Guy disconnected.

  Traffic thinned along route fifteen, leaving Payne with no other choice but to fall in behind his pretty enigma. She could hardly fail to notice him there and he had to wonder if she was beginning to get a little spooked. Though he couldn’t tell for certain—he was too low and she was too tall—he thought he saw her check her rearview mirror.