Page 94 of One Wrong Move
He pushed the stopper bar down, and the water drained.
She cocked her head, a ripe blush on her cheeks. “What are you doing?”
“Washing my shirt.” He rinsed it out.
“I have a washing machine ...” she said as he wrung the shirt out and hung it over the shower bar. He reached for the stack of towels in her hands.
“Right,” she said, passing them over.
He set them on the counter and used the small towel to dry his hands.
“Just routine when I travel,” he said. “I’m usually in motels without washing machines.”
“Very Jack Reacher.” She smiled.
As much as he loved the firstJack Reachermovie, he’d learned how to live on the road years before it released. Learned how to run and how to stay off-grid. It was no wonder Riley excelled as a skip tracer. She’d learned from a young age how to get lost and thetactics used to do so. All she did was think like the person she was tracking, and she caught them every single time.
“Well...” Harper murmured, backing up. “I better head to bed. Night again.”
He smiled. “Night, Harper.”
————
She closed the guest room door behind her and leaned against it.Wowza. She’d never seen a more beautiful man. Not beautiful in a girly way. No, there was nothing girly about Deckard MacLeod. He was all man. If she was interested in pursuing a relationship ... but she was not. Why did she suddenly have to keep reminding herself of that?
Pressing off the wall, she shook her head. But if she was interested in a relationship, it would be with a man like Deckard MacLeod. He was strong, loyal to his family, intelligent ... but haunted. By what, she didn’t know, and she’d resist the urge to pry. It was clear he was uber-private about his life. Guarded. But she ached to know, ached to see the hurt he wore like a cloak disappear.
She sank down on the couch and bowed her head, unable to rest yet.
Father,I pray for Deckard. For the pain I see etched in his eyes,always lingering there, even when he smiles. I don’t know what haunts him,but I can see it runs deep. I pray you’ll lift that burden from him. Let himbreathe the fresh air of peace in you. In Jesus’ name I pray.
¦¦¦
“Are you there?” Teresa asked.
Cyrus stepped outside, his partner asleep. Of course it would be raining. He stood under the overhang, far happier with their base for this heist. It was a serious upgrade from the trailer.
“Hello?” she said, her pitch rising.
“Yes,” he ground out.
“I have to say I don’t like this attitude. I think you’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll remind me all about your husband and histhugs. Speaking of thugs, have you settled Enrique down to observe and restrain?”
“Perhaps.”
He clenched his teeth. “I’ve told you I need Casey, and that’s his condition. The guy and the girl stay alive. For now.” Though he was far more interested in the girl. If Enrique hurt her, he’d kill him. What happened to her was his choice, not the thug’s and certainly not Teresa’s. She’d already stolen a woman from his life once, he would not let it happen again. Andi Forester was his to do with as he liked.
“I don’t like it,” she said, her nails tapping incessantly on the other end. Always tapping one surface or another.
“Neither do I.” He loathed being dependent on someone, but he needed Casey’s skills. All of them played a role for now—even Andi and Christian. In the end, it would be him holding all the goods and Teresa with the fakes she’d never see coming. Mostly fakes. He’d researched the items for years, had fakes made and stashed in each location near the true stashes. But with the recent collection at Tad’s Albuquerque gallery being added to the list by Teresa, he didn’t have time for his guy to fashion replicas, so those artifacts would be real, but it didn’t matter. He’d have more money to sail away into the sunset with than he could use in a lifetime.
The thought of one-upping Teresa heated his limbs. Finally, he’d pay her back for her cruelty, her mocking, and her killing Mandy. After what his girlfriend had done to him—leaving him holding the proverbial bag and landing him in the slammer—he’d plotted revenge but learned Teresa had already seen to it. But she was also his to do with as he willed. It wasn’t Teresa’s place. It was time she learned it.
“Are you still there?” she asked with an air of impatience.
“Yes. What do you want, Teresa?”
