The Favor Read online

“Shit,” Natalie said.

  Sierra’s stomach sank. “I know I’m not his type. And I’m not sure that he’ll be interested. I—”

  “Shut up for a minute,” Natalie said. “I need some time to get my mind around this.”

  Sierra chewed on her bottom lip. Now that she’d put her thoughts into words, the nerves dancing in her stomach had gone from a waltz to a polka.

  “Okay.” Running a hand through her hair, Natalie drew a chair around the table, sat down next to Sierra and took her hands. “First off, let’s get one thing clear. You don’t have enough confidence in yourself. Don’t say he might not be interested. Ryder Kane or any other man would jump at the chance if you told him you wanted to have sex with him. I’m just worried that Ryder’s not the right kind of man for you.”

  “You said to go for chemistry.”

  Natalie sighed. “Yes, I did, but in this case…I’ve read his file. He owns some business called Favors for a Fee but he’s also done some secret work for the government. Matt suspects black ops. That could mean assassinations, that kind of thing.”

  A little shiver moved through Sierra. “I know he has a violent side. I saw him shoot someone.”

  “And that doesn’t scare you?”

  “Yes. He scares me. The way I feel about him scares me. But it doesn’t seem to matter.” She leaned toward her sister. “We had phone sex, and it was the most exciting thing.”

  “Phone sex?”

  “I reached orgasm. So I think it qualifies as phone sex. At least that’s the general consensus in the data that I’ve gathered. Would you agree?”

  “You’ve gathered data on phone sex?”

  Sierra nodded. “There’s a consistent pattern of phone sex and cyber sex in the dating practices of single people.” Pausing, she studied her sister. The old familiar expression was back on Natalie’s face, the one that always made her feel as though she was visiting from another planet. “You don’t approve of my having phone sex.”

  Natalie frowned. “Stop putting words in my mouth. You can have any kind of sex you want. And I’m doing my best not to hover over you like a big sister. I’m just worried. You’re a bit inexperienced when it comes to the opposite sex.” She sighed. “I’ve just never pictured you with a man like Ryder.”

  “Me either.” But since he’d kissed her, she couldn’t seem to imagine herself with anyone else. “He makes me feel so…different. I think that I could let loose with Ryder Kane.”

  Natalie sighed. “That’s the way that Chance made me feel.”

  “But you and Chance had a lot in common. Ryder and I don’t.” She sighed. “It’s not like I’m looking for my soul mate. I just want to have a really memorable fling. Besides,” Sierra played her trump card, “Harry said to dream big.”

  Natalie’s cell phone rang. “Detective Gibbs.” Then she mouthed the words, “It’s Matt,” to Sierra.

  A moment later, Natalie jumped up and began to pace again. “I don’t like it.” There was another pause while Natalie listened to what Matt was saying. “Yes, I can see… Right. I’ll tell her.” Natalie was still frowning when she pocketed her cell.

  “Bad news?”

  “Mixed. Matt has just made a deal with Mr. Kane, and Kane Management is going to provide you with a bodyguard until this mess is cleared up.”

  “A bodyguard?” Sierra asked.

  “The bad news is it seems that Kane intends to handle the job personally—twenty-four/seven.”

  Sierra felt a little thrill run along her nerve endings.

  “Unless you object.”

  Sierra met her sister’s eyes steadily. “No, I don’t object.”

  “And you’re sure you want to have an affair with him?”

  “You’re not going to talk me out of it.”

  “I can see that. You were always the stubborn one.”

  Sierra blinked. “I always thought of myself as the pushover.”

  “Wrong. You’re stubborn, smart and sexy. Remember that.” Natalie crossed to her, then reached for Sierra’s hands and squeezed them. “I just want the best for you, sweetie. And if I tried to talk you out of doing this, I’d not only be wasting my breath, I’d be giving you advice that I didn’t follow when I went after Chance. It’s just that there’s a good possibility that whoever kidnapped Mark Anderson will come after you again.”

  As a little thrill of excitement shot through her, Sierra drew in a breath and let it out. “I didn’t think…I didn’t hope for this. But he’s doing it again, isn’t he?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “First you read Harry’s letter and you have this amazing adventure and fall in love with Chance. Then Rory opens her letter, and she has this marvelous adventure with Hunter. Now it looks I’m in the same boat.”

  Natalie’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t think Harry has his hand in this.”

  “Not directly, but when you went after Chance and Rory went after that interview with Hunter, you each did the kind of thing that Harry would have done. Of course, I figured that both of you inherited more of Harry’s genes than I ever did. And I didn’t expect to get the same advice he gave the two of you. But it looks like I’m going to have an adventure too.”

  Natalie studied her sister for a moment. “You should not be looking so damned happy and excited about the fact that someone might try to kill you again.”

  Sierra couldn’t prevent the laugh. She should be scared to death. And she should be using her inhaler. But she hadn’t—not once since she’d left the Blue Pepper. In fact she hadn’t had to use it since she’d kissed Ryder Kane. “Ryder saved my life once. I think I can depend on him to do it again. There’s something about him. I’ve been trying to analyze it, and I think it’s competence. I think he’s the most competent man I’ve ever met.”

  Natalie’s eyes narrowed again. “You’re trying to make me feel better about this.”

  “How am I doing?”

  This time Natalie couldn’t prevent a short laugh. “Your usual commendable job.” Then her expression sobered. “I won’t stop worrying about your safety, but if this Ryder Kane’s the one you want to have a sexual relationship with, you go for it.” She paused, and then continued. “And I am going to give you some advice. Harry was right. It seems to me that if you have one problem, Sierra, it’s that your dreams are never big enough. You want the adventure, you want the sex. Just don’t be afraid to go for everything.”

  Sierra swallowed hard and smiled, thinking, If you dream too big, you always get hurt. “Any suggestions about what I should do first? I don’t want to scare him away.”

  Natalie smiled. “You can’t. Until we get the guys who tried to shoot you, Ryder Kane will be sticking to you like glue.”

  WHEN THE CAR pulled up next to his on the top level of the parking garage, he leaned forward and spoke to his driver. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  After alighting from his car, he walked to the cement half wall that offered a good view of the Washington Monument. When the other man joined him, he kept his eyes on the view. “Tell me you have the journalist.”

  “The journalist is no longer a problem.”

  “And his notes?”

  “He didn’t have anything on him.”

  The flash of fury was so consuming that for a moment he felt he’d choke on it. He concentrated on breathing until the constriction in his throat eased. Then he relaxed his clenched hands. When he finally spoke, his voice was mild. “He had a file with notes in it at the meeting. Until we have it, we’re still in danger.”

  “There was nothing on his computer at the Post and nothing in his desk relating to the names you gave me.”

  “What about the person the journalist met?”

  “It’s being handled. There were complications at the scene. One of my men was shot.”

  Pushing down his anger once again, he made himself breathe—in and out. He couldn’t let himself lose control. The stakes were too high. And anger never solved anything. Fine men had lost elections
when they were perceived to have uncontrollable tempers. But his voice was tight and harsh-sounding when he finally said, “Tell me he’s dead.”

  There were two beats of silence. “He’s in surgery. I’ve got someone at the hospital monitoring his progress.”

  This time, he found it even harder to relax his fists. “He can’t be allowed to talk to the police. Nothing can be traced back to me or my office.”

  “Understood.”

  “And the other person, the one the journalist met at the bistro?”

  “I’ve got men following her.”

  “Her? Do you know who she is?”

  “Dr. Sierra Gibbs. She’s in the psychology and sociology departments at Georgetown. The bartender pointed out her table to him. He didn’t stay long. But he left a book with her.”

  For the first time since he’d left his limousine, he began to breathe more easily. “She must have his notes. He must have passed them to her in the book.”

  He didn’t turn to face the man, and he managed to keep his voice mild and pitched low. “You know what you have to do.”

  “I have three men following her.”

  “Good. Don’t bungle it this time. And once you have what I want, you’ll have to dispose of her. Make it look like an accident.”

  6

  AS HE CLIMBED the stairs to the front porch of Sierra’s apartment in Georgetown, Ryder extended his hand for the key and she dug it out of her purse. They hadn’t exchanged more than a few words in the squad car that had delivered them to his car, and since her apartment was only three blocks from where he’d parked, they’d walked. There was a great deal he wanted to say, but first he wanted her safely inside her apartment. Then he wanted to lay down some ground rules. However much he might want Sierra Gibbs, his first priority had to be to keep her safe.

  Striding across the wide front porch, Ryder discovered the house had two front doors.

  “Which one?” he asked.

  “The one on the right.”

  “The left one leads where?”

  “To the lower flat. My neighbor’s in California for the week.”

  “Tell me about your place. Is there another locked door at the top of the stairs or is this it?”

  “There’s another door. You can use the same key.”

  Ryder nodded, admiring the fact that she was all business. Truth told, his admiration for Dr. Sierra Gibbs increased with each new thing he noticed about her. Beneath that fragile appearance, he was beginning to think there was one tough cookie. The contrasts in her continued to fascinate him.

  “Okay, Doc, here’s the deal. We’re going to do our best not to make any noise as we climb the stairs. No more conversation. Once we reach the top, you’re going to stay put until I search the apartment. If you hear anything, any sound at all, you’re going to run like hell. Understood?”

  She nodded. “You think someone is here?”

  There was something in her voice, but he could have sworn that it was excitement rather than fear. “That’s what I’m going to find out. Once I’m sure that the place is secure, we’re going to talk. You ready?”

  At her nod, he turned and, like shadows they climbed to the second floor. The stairway was narrow, the slanted ceiling overhead low as in many of the old homes in Georgetown. The night-light in the outlet at the top of the stairs illuminated a small landing. When they reached it, Ryder turned and motioned for her to stay. Then he unsheathed his gun. With his free hand, he unlocked the door and opened it slowly. He listened for any sound, any movement. There was nothing.

  After feeling along the wall, he flipped the light switch, then went in low, fanning his gun in a wide arc. The room was narrow, long and empty. At the far end, a counter and stools separated the living area from a galley kitchen that was spotless. He crossed to it, checked behind the counter, and then turned to study the room again.

  There was a couch, a small TV, a few tables. But what caught his eyes was the large-screen plasma TV on one wall and the bookcase beneath filled with tapes and DVDs. Moving closer, he noted some of the titles: Casablanca was there along with the Raiders of the Lost Ark trilogy, and the Hitchcock thrillers she’d mentioned. But there was also a Thin Man collection and all the Dirty Harry movies. So she was a Clint Eastwood fan. And she had a complete collection of the James Bond movies as well as the DVDs of four seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. He tried to fit together the puzzle piece of her taste in action-adventure thrillers with the tightly wound woman he’d first glimpsed through the window of the Blue Pepper. Was she hooked on adventure movies because she had so little of it in her own life? Finally, he shook his head. He didn’t understand her fully. Not yet.

  Then he noted that the movies were organized by genre and arranged alphabetically. That fitted with the woman he was coming to know. She was organized. His own collection at his apartment was mainly organized by whatever he’d watched recently.

  Moving to the couch, he took in the way the magazines were stacked, their edges perfectly aligned with the edges of the glass-topped coffee table. A small wastebasket at the side of the couch held several candy wrappers. His lips curved in a smile. So the doc was a bit of a junk-food addict.

  His gaze swept the room again. Aside from the movie collection and the candy wrappers, the room had about as much personality as a motel room.

  The first door he opened led to a bathroom. The window was locked, the shower stall empty. But Sierra’s scent enveloped him. The lemony fragrance was stronger near the jars and bottles that formed a straight line on a glass shelf.

  The next door led to a bedroom. Once again, he went in low and swept the room with his gun. No one. While he methodically checked the closet and the locks on the windows, his mind catalogued other details. The bed was black wrought iron and covered with satin and lace. Numerous pillows were stacked against the headboard and resting against them was a stuffed red fox with a goofy grin on its face. Somehow the mix of the feminine and the unexpected fit Sierra Gibbs to a T.

  One wall was filled with photos, family, he guessed as he scanned them briefly. And then there was the watermelon-colored chaise lounge beneath the window. On it was an opened book titled The History of Sex. The doc was full of surprises. He could easily picture her lying there in something filmy and soft, that tiny line forming on her brow as she read.

  He could picture her just as easily lying on that lounge doing something much more pleasurable than reading about sex. An image filled his mind of lying there with her, of having those long legs tangled with his. He tried to push it out of his mind, but it lingered. Just how long was he going to be able to wait to touch her again? Phone sex was a poor substitute for the real thing.

  She was right outside on the landing. He could go to her now. Swearing softly, he strode from the bedroom. He couldn’t afford to think about that. Right now his job was to keep her safe.

  Crossing the living room in three quick strides, he opened a final door. Even as he skimmed his gun over the interior of the room, he blinked in surprise. The walls were red, and a print of bright red poppies took up nearly one wall.

  Though there were indications of order, the decor could best be described as bordering on chaos. And her scent—that blend of citrus and summer—was everywhere. Neat piles of folders were stacked everywhere—on the floors, on bookshelves and even on the two chairs. Only the desk was free of them, but its surface was covered with papers. Moving closer, he could see that the drawings on the papers were of figures in various sexual positions. Interesting and unusual sexual positions.

  This time he didn’t fight off the fantasies that took shape in his mind. He could imagine taking her in each one of those positions. Right here in this room. On the desk. On the floor.

  Common sense told him that he would have to be patient. Above and beyond the danger that she was in, there was an innocence about her that told him he would have to go slowly.

  He wondered how long he could get common sense to prevail.

  RYDER
KANE moved like a predatory cat. She hadn’t heard one noise since he’d left her on the landing. Once she’d caught a glimpse of him moving past the crack he’d left in the door.

  As the seconds ticked by, the reality of her situation began to sink in. At the police station, she’d still been riding high on adrenaline. But Ryder’s caution was getting to her. Someone had tried to shoot her, and they just might try it again. Of course, danger was the downside of having a marvelous and exciting adventure. Still, she wasn’t really afraid, and she hadn’t needed her inhaler once. She’d given that some thought on the ride from the police station. Perhaps it was only the old Sierra who depended on her inhaler.

  But the new person she was discovering within herself might still need it when she made her proposition to him. She’d been tongue-tied on the ride from the station. He’d been silent too. Had he started thinking about her as merely a job?

  No, she wasn’t going to think that way. That was the old Sierra, and she didn’t want to be that woman anymore.

  She recalled what he’d said in that phone conversation. If he was having second thoughts about having real sex with her, she’d just have to change his mind. The right approach would be key. The problem would be to keep her focus. She hadn’t been able to during the ride from the police station to his car. A plan would help. But she hadn’t been able to come up with even a first step, not while she was sitting so close to him.

  The fact that she wasn’t able to think clearly when he was close might prove to be a problem. She drew in a deep breath and let it out. She’d deal with it.

  A car drove by on the street below. A few houses up the street it slowed, the engine idling as Mrs. Hagerty’s little shih tzu started to bark.

  She pulled a note card out of her canvas bag and wrote 1 on the top line. She tapped a pencil against her chin. The key question was, what approach would work best with a man like Ryder Kane? Sierra had a hunch that he’d be swayed more by action than by words. Yes, a practiced seduction would be the best plan, and that wasn’t one of her strengths. Or at least it hadn’t been. But she was different with Ryder. And she did know intellectually what went into seducing a man. She had scads of research—narratives, magazine articles—and there were so many ideas she wanted to try out. Step one would be to—