Missionary Position (Masters of the Prairie Winds Club Book 7) (14 page)

Lara paced the length of the gurney where she was supposed to be resting and set what she was sure was a record for creative cursing. After the first swat she’d gotten from Fischer, she’d switched to a mixture of tribal dialects—
ha, let him figure that shit out!
Fischer had just shaken his head and laughed, but he hadn’t complained about her language after that. “Cupcake, you are going to wear yourself out. Please, at least sit down before Nurse Ratchet comes back in? She will probably be getting at least one phone call about how things are going and I doubt she will be particularly happy about it.” Lara had barely had time to register what he’d said when the woman stormed into the area slapping a clipboard on top of the gurney so hard the entire thing slid sideways despite the fact the wheels were locked.

Peter and Fischer moved so quickly they were literally a blur around the gurney before blocking her from the nurse’s view. “What on earth is the matter with you two? I’m not going to hurt her. You both need to move out of here and let us do our job.” The disdain in her voice made Lara want to slap her silly, but trying to push her way between Peter and Fischer was an exercise in futility.

“You haven’t made the slightest attempt to do your job since we arrived so I can’t fathom why we should expect anything different from you now. And you’d be well advised to stem the aggressive movements toward our woman, because I’m warning you now—it won’t work out well for you.” Peter nearly growled at the woman before picking up the clipboard and looking over the paperwork she’d brought along. Lara had to bite her lip to keep from smiling at the woman’s shocked expression.
Yeah, that’s right. They are both with me. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, bitch.
Lara felt as if her brain had just stuttered—holy hell, she was turning into Tobi. And Fischer’s snort of laughter let her know he was indeed beginning to hear her.
Craptastic
.

When the nurse stuck her nose in the air and stormed out of the small enclosure muttering something along the lines of ‘well, I never’ Lara was barely able to hold back her laughter. Between Lara’s realization that her friends were having a definite influence on her and the older woman’s shocked expression, she was biting the inside of her lip to keep from bursting out in giggles. But she lost the battle when Fischer grinned and leaned close to whisper, “I have no doubt she has never—who would want to get that close to her? And it’s not about her appearance because quite frankly that doesn’t mean jack—but her wounded water buffalo attitude is hideous.”

By the time the paperwork was completed and they’d made their way out of the hospital, Lara was too tired to even think about returning to the Wests’ hotel suite. “Do you think we could just go on back to the penthouse? I’m sorry I ruined the evening, but I had no idea eating the shrimp would be so dangerous. The last time I had some my cheeks turned bright red, but that was the only reaction I had.” The doctor had explained how reactions to food allergies often get exponentially worse with repeated exposure and cautioned her against eating any kind of shellfish in the future.

Peter reached over, taking her hand in his own, “We know you are tired and we’re taking you back home. We’ll order in something to eat and then get you settled in bed,
mi amõre
.”

Fischer leaned over close and whispered, “There likely isn’t any dinner left at the suite anyway, since several of the Wests’ team went back there a couple of hours ago.”

Peter laughed, “And isn’t that the truth. Those guys would have made short work of the abandoned food, considering it fair game.” They all three laughed because they knew Tobi had sent them back and told them to “take care of things” and no one had any doubt about how the men interpreted that.

Fischer made the call to order their replacement dinner and Peter called to check how things were going at Dark Desires while Lara closed her eyes hoping to rest during the short drive. It seemed like she’d just let her eyes slide closed when she felt herself being lifted into Fischer’s arms. She didn’t protest, but snuggled closer and enjoyed the feeling of floating until she felt his arms stiffen beneath her. “Take her back downstairs until we know what it is and who brought it.” She heard Peter’s words but didn’t have time to see what he was talking about before the doors closed on the elevator whisking them back down to the lobby.

Fischer must have sensed that she’d awakened, because he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and whispered, “There was a large envelope leaning against the door, baby. We’re just going to be cautious and wait downstairs.” It wasn’t long before Peter called giving them the all clear. When she started to stand from where they’d been waiting in the lobby, Fischer shook his head and picked her up again. “Before you argue with me, think about the consequences, cupcake. I don’t want your bare feet on the floor—it’s too cool and this is also a public lobby.” Lara didn’t argue, but she did find the whole thing amusing—if he’d seen some of the villages where she’d lived, known the unsanitary conditions she’d endured, his opinion of the polished marble floor would probably change substantially.

By the time he set her back on her feet they were well inside the penthouse they shared, Micah and Kent were standing beside Peter frowning at whatever was spread out over the low table in the living room. When she approached, she noticed all three men were wearing latex gloves—definitely not a good sign. As she approached Micah cautioned her to put on a pair of gloves before touching anything, but his words proved to be unnecessary. Once she got close enough to see what they were looking at she froze—her mind reeling in utter disbelief. “How?” was the only thing she managed to utter before Peter pulled her against his side. She didn’t know how the other men had gotten here so fast but she was grateful because she felt like her life was spinning out of control so quickly, any and all help was appreciated.

Once she’d finally gotten her bearings, she turned to Peter and asked, “Was there a note?” He nodded and pointed to the neatly printed card balanced on the corner of the table.
We’re watching. We want what belongs to us.
The words might not have been an obvious threat, but accompanied by the photos, the meaning was clear—they could have gotten to her at any time. Someone had been watching her for a very long time. After skimming through the first few prints, Lara didn’t want to look at any more of the photos and quickly excused herself saying she wanted to take a quick shower and change clothes. And while it was true that she’d always hated the smell of hospitals and was anxious to ride herself of the stench of sickness, blood, and antiseptic that seemed to cling to her hair and clothing, the real issue was she now knew how vulnerable she was. Every suspicion she’d ever had about her parents reared its ugly head and the more she thought about it, the more angry she became. Suddenly she was very anxious to sit down with her grandparents and ask some long overdue questions. She only hoped she wasn’t leading trouble to their door.

Peter watched Lara walk down the hall and disappear into their bedroom before turning back to the other three men standing around the table. “How did we miss someone taking pictures of her? Seriously? We’re fucking trained operatives? We don’t miss this sort of thing. Hell, our lives depend on not missing this shit.” He knew his voice was raising, but he couldn’t hold back his frustration.

Kent’s phone rang before he could continue his tirade and his friend’s clipped tone had Peter pausing to listen. “Fuck. When? Well, fine send him up, but make sure he knows we’re not stepping back and letting him just take over.” Kent ran his fingers through his hair in a gesture of pure frustration after disconnecting the call. He turned to the other men, “Eric Roberts is downstairs having a shit fit and insisting on coming up.”

“Christ, that’s all we need, a fucking Homeland Security agent crawling up our asses on this when we don’t even know what the hell is going on yet.” Micah rolled his eyes and started gathering up the pictures. “What’s his interest in this anyway? I just can’t see this being a national security issue unless we’ve misinterpreted the puzzle and we aren’t looking for diamonds after all.”

Fischer turned and headed for the kitchen, “I’m going to set things up so we can feed Lara as soon as the food arrives, she needs to eat something before she crashes.” Peter knew Fischer was right, she’d been dead on her feet earlier but he hated the thought of her going to bed without he and Fischer both having a chance to make love to her. Their sweet sub thrived on affection and they intended to make sure she had plenty of it. But now it looked as if all of their plans for this evening were quickly swirling around a drain, ready to be sucked right out from under them both.

Peter opened the front door just as Special Agent Eric Roberts stepped off the elevator alone. The fact he hadn’t brought along whoever had drawn the short straw to be his “lackey of the week” was a red flag warning the man might not be acting entirely under the jurisdiction of DHS. Nodding to the man their team had a love-hate relationship with, he held open the door and then followed Roberts inside. “To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?” Peter knew his tone let the man know exactly how he felt about the interruption, and truthfully, he just simply didn’t care.

Kent stood with his back to the large window overlooking the lights of downtown Houston, he made no attempt to soften his question, “What are you doing here, Eric? We told you we’d update you if and when we had something to report.”

The agent looked between Peter and Kent, then sighed, “Where are the others?” When Kent simply raised a brow, he shook his head, “Where is Drake? And your brother?” The last was said to Peter, and no one bothered asking how he knew who was in the penthouse because quite frankly it would be a waste of time. The damned man had been an agent a long time despite his youthful appearance and even if he did answer the question it would have been evasive at the very least.

Micah sauntered back in and looked at Eric Roberts like he was pond scum. It was only then that Peter remembered the men shared a mutual dislike for one another, despite the fact they grudgingly admitted that they respected the hell out of each other’s computer skills. “Nice to see you too, Micah.” Turning back to Peter, he asked, “Your brother?”

“He’s busy and you know he isn’t involved in agency business, so there isn’t any reason to wait for him. Why are you here?” Peter was getting tired of Roberts’ questions and he was more than anxious to see him gone before they had to explain to Lara who the hell he was. Not to mention it was going to be damned difficult to explain what the man was doing standing in the middle of their living room this late at night when Peter didn’t know himself.

Eric Roberts crossed his arms over his chest, “I’m here because I received a text message earlier this evening warning me to step away from this investigation.”

“That can’t be that unusual, why pay special attention this time?” Kent’s question echoed Peter’s own.

“This one also had pictures and it seemed damned odd that you’d allow your lady to have her picture taken in the middle of a medical crisis.” Peter felt the earth shift beneath his feet. How could that possibly have happened? How had they been so distracted they hadn’t seen someone taking her picture? “Listen, I don’t want to stay, I just wanted you to know I’ll help if you need it. The chatter is starting to pick up on this thing, somebody wants whatever Lawrence and Rita Emmons have been bringing back to the States and they think Lara has it.”

Peter was just opening his mouth to ask if Roberts had any idea what they were looking for when Lara’s confused voice sounded behind him, “Simon? What are you doing here?” Peter was so stunned he wasn’t even able to speak before her tone become much frostier when she turned to him and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you knew Simon? Oh, drown me. You already knew everything when I finally trusted you enough to share that humiliation, didn’t you? Damn, I just never seem to learn.”

Looking around, Peter could see that Kent and Micah were staring at Lara, completely baffled by what she’d just said. Fischer stepped into the room and the look on his face was almost as confused. The only person who seemed to know what their sweet woman was talking about was Special Agent Eric Roberts and he had just visibly cringed at Lara’s admission that he’d humiliated her.
Wait—did she just call him Simon? What the hell?

Fischer was glaring at him from across the room and his annoyed words filled Peter’s mind,
‘Yeah, I was wondering when that little detail was going to register. Man, she is pissed. Figures that the only time I’ve ever been able to really hear her it’s because she is blazing fucking mad.’