Debra Webb

Striking Distance


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SUV on the police cruiser’s tail was Lucas’s.

      She left the door open and went in search of her robe. Dignity was required when exerting power over one’s own domain. Lucas was about to find out just how much indignation she could rally.

      * * *

      “Just how long were you going to wait before you told me?”

      Lucas thought about that for a moment but one glance at Victoria told him he’d be better off just to tell her the truth rather than some concocted story. “Until we were safely away on our vacation.”

      She blinked, fiddled with her robe a bit more, then looked up at him again. “So this man, this assassin, has been following me for two weeks.”

      Lucas nodded. “At least. We’re trying to identify who he’s working for.”

      She looked heavenward and made a disgusted sound. “Please, Lucas, spare me the supposition. You don’t need evidence. You know it’s him.”

      He sighed. It was after 3:00 a.m. They were both tired. Pursuing this discussion was pointless, but she wasn’t finished punishing him just yet. “Yes, Victoria, I believe it’s him. But I have to be certain.”

      “How are you planning to pinpoint his involvement?” Her expression boasted her considerable doubt. “You know how he is. He can stay underground for months—years even. He could be anywhere, posing as anyone, providing this assassin with his instructions over the Internet.”

      That was all true. She knew it and so did he. “I’m moving someone into position to get close to this assassin as we speak,” he explained. “Once you and I have disappeared, he’ll have no choice but to report to Leberman, leading our source straight to him.” Lucas couldn’t help glancing around the room even though he knew his own man had swept the entire house for surveillance bugs. Still, it was habit.

      Victoria stood, abruptly announcing she’d heard enough. She was furious and he couldn’t blame her.

      Lucas supported his weight on his cane as he got to his feet. Damn, he was exhausted. “Logan has removed the device from your windowsill and locked the window. The house has been swept for bugs and any other sort of foreign gadget or substance. Are you sure you’ll feel comfortable here the rest of the night?”

      He would like nothing better than to take her back to his hotel with him. But she would refuse. He knew her answer before he asked. He didn’t really like her being here after what happened tonight, but his men would be watching.

      The intruder had obviously gotten in while Victoria was at the office today. He’d disarmed her security, since she said she always set it before leaving for work, and then planted the device that contained a small explosive charge—just enough to push the unlocked window up at a later time, breaking the security mechanism’s contact. Then he’d reset her alarm and left. Lucas assumed that the small explosive had been coated with a substance that deteriorated when subjected to air. The slow deterioration, likely calculated to the very minute, had allowed for the timing of the explosion and thus the security breach. Ingenious. Lucas knew before he looked there would be no prints. This intruder was a professional.

      It was him.

      The assassin who feared no one—not even Lucas and his men. Lucas wasn’t stupid. He felt certain the guy was well aware his men had noticed his presence. And still he stalked Victoria. Fearlessly.

      The idea that he could have left more explosives in the house tied Lucas’s gut in knots. There was no end to the damage he could have done—poison and any number of other booby traps. He should have had someone watching the house at all times...but he hadn’t even considered that avenue. His only concern had been keeping Victoria safe in real time. He’d failed to properly evaluate the threat. He was too close to this...not thinking clearly. It wouldn’t happen again.

      “No, thank you, Lucas,” she said finally, the annoyance she’d felt at his deception visibly draining away. “I’ll be fine here. Besides—” she gestured to the door “—your capable men are right outside.”

      That reminded him. Ian and Simon were still waiting outside with John Logan and Vincent Ferrelli. Lucas imagined the two of them would be dressed down next. Victoria had already told them in no uncertain terms that she would speak to them later.

      Lucas nodded his understanding of her decision to stay home. As he had known, Victoria Colby would not run from any sort of threat. “We’ll talk again later this morning. We still haven’t reached a decision on where we’ll take our vacation.”

      One brow winged higher than the other. “Do you really expect me to believe that you haven’t made that decision already?”

      He tugged at his collar. Even without a tie binding his neck she could make him squirm. “We can discuss it over lunch.” He wanted her a lot calmer and more cooperative than she was right now before they made any decisions.

      Damn, this was too close.

      He hoped like hell Tasha could move in on their guy in a hurry. She’d be settled into her apartment by noon today. Maverick and Ramon, two more of his specialists, would serve as her backup, and bring her up to speed. She had to get next to this guy. Lucas needed something...anything to go on. He was counting on her to move quickly. He just hoped it didn’t get her killed.

      He swallowed hard. If it did, it would be entirely his doing. She was young and reckless. Far too reckless to fully comprehend the level of danger involved. But he’d needed her, and Lucas had never failed to take whatever risk required to accomplish his mission. For the first time in his career, he wondered if he had done the right thing.

      Victoria squeezed his arm. “I’m okay, Lucas. Really.”

      He snapped back to the present. She’d mistaken his preoccupation for concern. And he was concerned. About a number of things. “That’s all that matters,” he said as much for his own benefit as hers. Keeping her safe was all that really mattered. He leaned down and brushed a kiss to her cheek. “Good night, Victoria.”

      He didn’t want to leave her. She looked so vulnerable in that white silk robe with her dark hair falling down around her shoulders. He’d never seen her like that and it was all he could do not to stare in awe.

      Allowing her one last smile, he turned away and started for the door.

      “Oh, dear God,” she gasped.

      He turned back to her, performed a quick visual inspection. Had she only now realized she was injured in some way? “What?”

      “In all the excitement I completely forgot,” she murmured. Her frightened gaze collided with his and she gestured vaguely toward the kitchen. “I don’t eat chocolate ice cream.”

      Chapter 8

      The insistent throb of the music from the Metro Link nightclub kept a rhythmic pace with her confident stride as Tasha made her way to the entrance. Black thigh-high leather boots and skintight, cheek-baring silk shorts gave the illusion of legs that went on forever. Legs toned from all those five-mile runs, making every guy she passed stop and stare.

      The strappy halter top showcased her flat belly and the contour of her spine, covering nothing except her breasts, and even then the gossamer-thin, lacy fabric scarcely left much to the imagination. A small leather bag, hardly large enough to hold some cash, a couple of loose cigarettes and her car keys, hung from a long, delicate gold chain that draped over her shoulder. The bag bounced against her hip with every step she took. An ankle-length jacket that was as sheer as air and designed from black netting so thin and fragile that it felt like a midnight fog against her skin completed the daring ensemble.

      She possessed all the bait and weapons required for a manhunt.

      At the main entrance she paused for the bouncer to wave his security wand around her body. She opened her purse to show her keys when the wand passed over it and hummed a warning.

      She smiled wickedly at him. “Baby,