The Renegade Read online

  His lips twisted. Still bossy, he saw. As if he’d show up without a plan. As if he didn’t know how to read a map. As if he hadn’t already made reservations at pre-selected hotels and viewed their layouts to accommodate the swiftest exit plan. Sheesh. What did she take him for? Then again, he wasn’t off to a great start. “Nah,” he told her, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I thought I’d drive around aimlessly for a little while.”

  She blinked, startled. “To throw off any would-be pursuers?”

  He gave his head a small shake, pushed open the door and waited for her to pass. “That would be my secondary objective.”

  “What’s the first?”

  “To irritate the hell out of you. Of course, I’ve planned our route,” he said, exasperated.

  To his surprise, she actually laughed, a soft husky sound that made something hot slither around his middle and squeeze. “That’s a mission I’m absolutely certain you’ll accomplish. With little to no effort,” she added.

  He grinned. “I’m that good, eh, Bossy?”

  She rolled her eyes and a little furrow emerged between her fine, arched brows. “Nobody’s called me that in years.”

  “And yet the seemingly uncontrollable urge to direct is still evident,” he drawled, opening her car door before she could do it herself. “Your minions are either too respectful or too terrified to comment on it.” He winked at her. “I’ll let you know what conclusion I come to later.”

  “I’ll be waiting with bated breath.”

  Tanner chuckled and a small part of the tension he’d been carrying around for months slid off his shoulders.

  One thing was for certain, this mission damned sure wasn’t going to be boring, not with Mia and Dick around.

  “I DON’T THINK MIA IS traveling with the exhibit this time.”

  The man paused to consider what his informant had just said and his eyes narrowed. “Why is that?”

  “Because she left the museum with a man I’ve never seen before.”

  “Couldn’t it have been her boyfriend?”

  There was a snort. “This guy didn’t look like any professor I’ve ever seen. He was fit, cagey. Put me in mind of a cop, actually.”

  Well, that changed things then, didn’t it? Honestly, this was beginning to get tiresome. He just wanted the statue. He’d stolen dozens of other things—more valuable and better guarded—than this and those items hadn’t been anywhere near as much trouble. That’s what happened when you outsourced, the man thought. Quality control became a real bitch. Of course, he had other reasons for putting a lackey in place.

  “Follow her to the airport,” he instructed.

  “And if she doesn’t go to the airport?”

  “Then pull something out of your bag of tricks and follow her wherever she goes. She’s headed to Dallas, ultimately. I can’t imagine why she would suddenly stop moving with her staff, but if that’s the case, then there’s a reason.” A significant one, he imagined. He paused, continued to sort through possibilities. “And let me know if this guy goes with her. That could be important.”

  “Certainly.”

  It would be interesting to see what Mia did. He couldn’t imagine the thorough little liaison would abandon Maula Hautu in light of the attempted thefts. Even though it wasn’t her job to provide security, she was ultimately responsible for the entire exhibit. In short, it was her ass on the line if things went wrong. That’s why he’d been watching her, monitoring what she did.

  She was a key player in a game she didn’t know she was playing and wasn’t equipped to handle. And he had no qualms about taking her out if she stood in his way.

  IT FELT EXTREMELY WEIRD to see Tanner inside Harlan’s apartment. He was too big, too masculine, too…much for the sedate space she’d come to associate with her calm, intellectual boyfriend. Harlan preferred earth tones, natural woods and was a firm believer in right angles. No caddy-cornering things here, she thought, although she silently admitted she’d occasionally adjust a stack of magazines, the coasters or the magnets on the refrigerator just to irritate him. The passive-aggressive rebellion never failed to give her a wicked little thrill. She winced.

  She realized she was in a sorry damned state when that’s what qualified as both wicked and thrilling in her book.

  Her nerves already frayed and stretched to the breaking point—after only a mere thirty minutes in Tanner’s company—Mia hurriedly changed clothes, then gathered up Moe and dragged her rolling suitcase and toiletry bag into the living room.

  Tanner was scanning pictures and books crammed into the shelves on either side of the fireplace. “The Count of Monte Cristo,” he said, sliding a finger down the spine. “It’s always been a favorite of mine. Lord Byron,” he said, inclining his head. “A favorite of yours, if memory serves. Don Juan, specifically, right?”

  She nodded, too surprised to speak.

  He pulled out of volume of Shakespeare. “The Taming of the Shrew, also a favorite I seem to recall.” He tsked under his breath and shot her a reproachful look. “But no Poe, I see.”

  Tanner had always loved Edgar Allan Poe, and had been a huge fan of The Raven and Annabelle Lee in particular. She remembered discussing the troubled author with him at length, arguing over his genius and character. Mia would admit that the guy had been a genius, but the fact that he’d married his thirteen-year-old cousin when he’d been twenty-six was a bit of a sticking point with her. It didn’t discount the work, she knew, but it had always colored her opinion of it.

  Tanner snagged her attention by gesturing to a picture of her and Harlan that had been taken on a Caribbean cruise the previous summer. She wore a yellow sundress and big floppy hat. Having suffered from sun poisoning as a child, Harlan’s svelte frame was dressed in long-sleeves and pants, and his face was covered in thick white sunblock. He’d looked like an albino scarecrow, she thought, wincing at the uncharitable thought. If he’d had his way, they’d have been vacationing in cooler climes, but he’d indulged her because she’d always loved the sun.

  “St. Lucia?” Tanner asked.

  “Cozumel,” she corrected.

  “The water’s amazing, isn’t it? The prettiest, clearest blue I’ve ever seen.”

  She was surprised. She’d never imagined Tanner would take that sort of vacation while in the military. “You’ve been to Cozumel?”

  “After graduation,” he said, shooting her an awkward smile. “Before I officially began my military career.”

  No doubt the entire football team and the cheerleading squad—hell, probably the majorettes, as well—had gone on that trip, Mia thought, a sour taste developing on her tongue. She turned a stack of coasters and tried to loosen her jaw. “I guess you’ve traveled a pretty good bit.”

  Something in her voice must have betrayed her because he regarded her steadily for a moment before answering. “Mostly to war zones and third-world countries, though I have managed to spend a little time in better places. Germany was surprising. All those castles.” He leafed through another book, then returned it to its place. “Prague is one of the most beautiful cities I’ve ever seen. London, Paris, Rome, of course. I hated Paris, but the beauty of the French countryside offered redemption. Rolling hills and vineyards, stone fences and cottages. Very bucolic and picturesque.”

  “Have you ever thought about going back?”

  “You mean, live there permanently?” he asked, as though the idea had never occurred to him. “No,” he admitted. “I’ve got a touch of wanderlust—I love seeing other places, drinking in the culture, colors and landscape—but I’m a country boy at heart.” He flashed her an authentic aw-shucks grin. “Nothing will ever be lovelier than those Carolina hills.”

  “So you’re back in Asheville?”

  His face froze and a shadow moved behind his gaze. “No, I’m in Atlanta.”

  “That’s right,” she said. “That’s where Ranger Security is based. I’d forgotten.”

  A long dimple appeared in his left cheek and t
hose pale green eyes crinkled in the corners. “Checked them out, did you?”

  Mia blushed, but stubbornly lifted her chin. “You bet your ass I did. After all, if something goes wrong, it’s my ass on the line here.” She patted the nondescript backpack that housed the valuable statue. “If anything happens to Moe. I’m the one who will be unemployable.”

  He frowned. “Moe?”

  “My nickname for him,” she explained. She pushed her hair away from her face. “Maulu Hautu is a bit of a mouthful.”

  Tanner grinned, poked his tongue in his cheek and shrugged lazily. The gesture was so inherently sexy, it should been against the law. “We’ve just been calling him Dick.”

  She flattened her lips to keep them from twitching, then bit the inside of her cheek for good measure. “For obvious reasons, I prefer Moe.”

  “We’re Southern, you know,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “We could always go with a double name. Sort of like Brenda Sue and Erma Jean.” His eyes twinkled. “Moe Dick.”

  She had to bite her lip, but could feel the smile slipping from beneath her teeth. “I don’t think so.”

  “You gotta admit, it’s got a ring to it. Moe Dick.” He nodded once. “I like it.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Only because it’s lewd.”

  “Which makes it all the more appropriate.”

  Since she couldn’t argue with that, Mia simply shook her head. “I’m going to call him Moe. You can call him whatever you want to.”

  “I would have anyway,” he said, as if she needed that reminder. Tanner had always done things his way. Ridiculously, it was part of his appeal. He nodded briskly, then looked down at the bags at her feet. “Is this everything?”

  She nodded, suddenly nervous. “My laptop and camera are in the attaché case in the car.”

  He blew out a breath, took the backpack from her shoulders and draped it across his own. Moe had been placed in a foam-lined locking metal box to insure his safe passage.

  Apprehension worked its way across her brow. “I could have—”

  He opened the door for her—more of that courtesy she’d remembered about him—then easily hefted her luggage and followed her down the sidewalk. “Though I know this goes against everything in that tightly wound, autocratic only-I-can-do-it-right little body of yours, Mia, you’re going to have to let me do my job.”

  She knew he was right, yet couldn’t resist arguing with him. “Just because I have more confidence in my own ability than of others doesn’t make me tightly wound or autocratic.” She resisted the urge to point out to him that the luggage had wheels, that he didn’t have to carry it. Idiot. No doubt the wheels impugned his masculinity.

  “And yet you are both.” He gave his head a mystified shake. “Go figure.”

  She locked the door to Harlan’s apartment and flipped the dead bolt. “Smart-ass.”

  She started down the walk and ran headlong into the back of him. “Umph. What are you—”

  “We’ve got company,” he murmured quietly.

  Panic punched her heart into a quicker rhythm. “What? Who?” She peered around an impressive biceps and swore under her breath. “That’s—”

  “Freddie Ackerman. Miami Herald,” he finished in a cool all-business voice, and she couldn’t help but be impressed. Though she would have expected nothing less, it was clear Tanner had done his homework—on everything but her. No doubt they wouldn’t agree on his technique, but she knew he was fully capable of taking care of both her and Moe. “I understand he’s been following the exhibit for weeks now. Got a bit of a bulldog reputation, on the fringes of being unscrupulous.”

  “Yes,” she confirmed. Tanner resumed his pace. “What’s he doing here?” she whispered frantically. “He should be on his way to the airport.” Actually, he should already be at the airport, making his way through those hellish security lines. She couldn’t imagine why he was here, or how he’d found her. It was beyond odd.

  “I’ll handle it,” Tanner told her. “You play along.”

  A red flag instantly went up. Play along? She didn’t like the sound of that at all. It put him in charge and her at his mercy.

  For reasons she couldn’t begin to explain she had the oddest feeling that that the next few days of her life were going to be precisely like that.

  Him in charge, her at his mercy.

  To her consternation, a wicked thrill swirled in her belly. She didn’t know what was more disconcerting—that she was going to be with him for the next several days.

  Or that she was going to like it.

  4

  WEARING A WRINKLED suit and a smug smile, Ackerman turned to them as they made their way down the walkway. “Ms. Hawthorne,” he said, his gaze glancing off Tanner and landing directly on Mia. “You won’t mind if I follow you to the airport, will you?”

  “Whether she does or she doesn’t is irrelevant,” Tanner told the short, stocky man. “I mind. Who the hell are you?”

  If there was one thing in the world he hated, it was a damned bully. And Freddie Ackerman, while not the biggest one he’d ever seen, had enough of the traits to seriously piss Tanner off. The old reporter had been so intent on trying to rattle Mia, he’d completely dismissed Tanner as a threat.

  Big mistake.

  Seemingly startled, Ackerman glanced up at him. Tanner watched the shorter man reassess, then make his second mistake—he underestimated him.

  “Freddie Ackerman,” he said. “Miami Herald. I’ve been following the Maulu Hautu phenomenon and Ms. Hawthorne has been quite helpful.”

  “So helpful that you think it’s okay to show up at her place of residence and tell her you’re going to follow her?” Tanner narrowed his eyes. “Sounds a bit like stalking to me.”

  “And just who are you?” Freddie asked in a patronizing tone that instantly put Tanner’s teeth on edge.

  Tanner took a menacing step forward, purposely making the shorter man look up and step back. He adjusted his voice so that it came out low and lethal and was gratified when he saw the first hint of fear widen the man’s gaze. “I’m the kind of guy who doesn’t like it when other men try to follow my girlfriend, that’s who I am.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “Baby, has this guy been bothering you? You want me to take care of him?”

  Mia’s eyes were round and startled, but she collected herself enough to play along. “Honey, you know I hate picking people’s teeth out of your knuckles. Besides, a trip to jail would ruin our plans.” She reached forward and rubbed his arm. “You can let Mr. Ackerman go.” She looked pointedly at Freddie. “I’ll see you in Dallas, Freddie,” she said, and made a little shooing gesture, as though he should go while she still had control over her Neanderthal of a boyfriend. “You’d better go on before you miss your flight.”

  “Shouldn’t you be going, as well?”

  Losing patience and growing more irritated by the minute, Tanner took another step forward. Sheesh, what was up with this guy? Why was he so interested in where Mia was going? “It’s none of your damned business where she’s going or how she gets there,” he said. “In fact, it seems damned odd to me that you’re so interested in her.”

  “Not in her,” Ackerman said, genuine surprise widening his eyes. “In the exhibit.”

  “The exhibit will be in Dallas, as promised,” Mia assured him.

  Ackerman’s gaze bounced back and forth between them and though he was clearly not the sharpest knife in the drawer—he’d underestimated him, after all—he wasn’t as stupid as he looked. There was a wily sort of shrewdness in that pale blue gaze that gave Tanner pause. It wasn’t exactly ruthless, but the old reporter clearly had more interest in the exhibit than his story justified.

  After a minute, Ackerman nodded to himself and got back into his car, but didn’t immediately pull away. A brunette with a bad perm and an overbite sat in the front seat. Tanner made a mental note of the make and model, though, like theirs, it was likely a rental.

  Her hand still resting on his
arm and fully aware of their continued audience, he turned and made a purely opportunistic but justified decision. He framed her face with his hands and moved in, bellying up to her. “Play along,” he whispered, his thumb skimming that insanely sexy bottom lip. Full, lush and rosy, she still had the prettiest mouth he’d ever seen.

  Her eyes widened and the hand gripping his arm tightened. “What?”

  Tanner tilted her head and brushed his lips over hers, once, twice, slowly savoring the bittersweet feel of her against him once more. He felt her shudder, her breath mingle with his.

  The world shifted beneath his feet and he decided that being opportunistic had its advantages.

  And if that first taste of her was like a match to kindling, then the second could only be compared to gasoline poured over an open flame—she literally lit him up. The blaze started in the soles of his feet and swept upward, singeing his veins, charring any bit of restraint. One minute, he’d been testing the waters, the next he had her backed up against the hood of the car, his mouth firmly attached to hers.

  Mia made a little mewling noise low in her throat, the sound of sweet surrender, and her arms wound around his neck, fitting her petite rounded frame more closely to his. Her hair slithered over the backs of his hands and her tongue tangled around his. In that instant, they could have been twenty again, beneath a library table on campus. She was new and familiar, the same and yet different and, for reasons he couldn’t begin to explain, he felt like he’d taken a long and arduous journey only to have finally made it to where he was supposed to be all along. The sensation shook him to the core.

  More chick feelings, he thought, shrugging the disconcerting impression away. Dammit, what was wrong with him? And truthfully, he wasn’t precisely where he wanted to be. If that were the case, he and Mia would be in a dark room with a big bed and no clock. He would be between her thighs, whispering naughty things in her ear. He dimly noted the sound of Ackerman’s car starting and pulling away, and even though the reporter’s exit was technically supposed to end their performance, Tanner couldn’t find the wherewithal to stop kissing her. She tasted like strawberry jam and minty mouthwash and he wanted to sample the rest of her to test their flavors, as well. He wanted to—