The Vixen's Lead (Kit Davenport Book 1) Page 12

  “What the hell have you three been doing?” he exclaimed in a very un-Wesley-like tone. “Whose idiotic idea was it to go swimming fully clothed in October?”

  “Hah!” I snorted. “That’s what I was wondering too!”

  Cole and Caleb both gaped at me in disbelief before loudly protesting that I had started the whole thing, which was technically true.

  Wesley cut them off, telling them to go and dry off. “As for you”—he gave me a stern look—“you’re bordering on hypothermia. Come with me; I have a bathtub in my bathroom.”

  He led the way down the hall to his room, which I’d actually yet to step foot in seeing as he was usually holed up in there working on his computers. It was a big room but pretty much like I expected it to look, with a huge desk covered in monitors and various tech gadgets. He politely ushered me through to his bathroom and the biggest bathtub ever, sitting under a picture window showing a stunning view of the mountains. I perched on the edge of the tub while he ran it for me, dumping a healthy dose of bubble bath in, which filled the room with the scent of jasmine. It was such a sweet, unexpected gesture that it left me lost for words.

  “Are you, um, okay to get...” His earlier bluster seemed to have subsided, and he was back to being awkward and shy. I blinked up at him owlishly, his words taking way longer than they should to sink through my brain. “You know, undressed,” he continued, blushing furiously. “I can call Caleb if you need help?”

  I smiled with numb lips, suddenly realizing why he seemed so nervous. “I’m fine. Thank you though.” I stood and stripped off my shirt, which made his face flame even brighter red before he spun away.

  “It’s important you don’t fall asleep in the, ah, bath so I’ll just, um, sit outside the door and talk to you. If that’s okay?”

  “Fine by me,” I told him, and he retreated out of the room, leaving me to finish stripping down and get into the water. My stiff fingers made slow work of my clothes, but eventually I got them off. Stepping into the deep tub, I hissed as the hot water met my freezing skin. Slowly I lowered myself in, inch by inch, letting my skin adjust to the heat at each interval, and by the time I was fully seated, I was already feeling almost normal. Wesley said something from the other side of the bathroom door, but it was so muffled I couldn’t make it out.

  “I can’t hear you!” I yelled out to him, “Just come in here if we’re going to talk!”

  There was a pause, then the door cracked open an inch. “I can’t come in there!” he replied through the crack. “You’re, um, you know… naked!”

  I laughed. How different he was from the rest of his team. I doubted they shared his hang-up about seeing a naked woman in the tub.

  “I’m completely submerged in bubbles; I promise you won’t see a thing, except for my arms.”

  There was another pause, and then the door opened farther, admitting a very pink Wesley, who shuffled in with his eyes on the ceiling until he sat with his back against the tub near my feet. Once situated, he flicked a quick glance at my face and nodded.

  “You’re still a little blue, but your cheeks have more color now.” He sounded relieved.

  “I’m feeling loads better. Thank you for letting me use your tub.” I was genuinely grateful; it had been forever since I enjoyed a good soak, and I’d really been insanely cold. He bobbed his head in acknowledgement.

  “No worries. I know it’s not super manly, but I love bubble baths,” he admitted.

  “So what were you trying to say before?” I prompted, reminding him he had been trying to ask something through the door.

  “Oh, yes, I was just asking what you wanted to talk about. It’s so easy to fall asleep in a warm bath after a prolonged cold exposure that I thought it best to keep you talking.” Made sense, and I could very easily drift off in this heavenly tub.

  “Why don’t you tell me about how you came to work for Omega Group?” I suggested. It was something that I had wondered about with all of the boys, but no one had volunteered their stories yet. A sad smile crossed his face, so I wasn’t surprised when he shook his head slightly.

  “Maybe later,” he said softly. “For now let’s just keep the topics a bit less heavy. Also, I need you to be talking or else it defeats the purpose.”

  “Okay, sounds fair. What do you want to know about me?” I sank a little lower into the water, getting my cold shoulders submerged beneath the bubbles.

  “Ummmm,” he said as he dropped his head back onto the ledge of the bath and stared at the ceiling. “What’s your favorite color?”

  I let out a giggle which was very unlike me. I blamed the cold. It was affecting my brain. “Really, Wesley? You know next to nothing about me, and you ask what my favorite color is?”

  He tilted his head slightly to look at me and shrugged. “Have to start somewhere.”

  “I suppose you do. Okay, uhh, blue I suppose? Like, dark blue. Sapphire. You?”

  “Green,” he replied decisively. “Favorite food?”

  “Cheese.” I grinned. “Melted cheese. Doesn’t even need to be on anything, I’d just eat it off a plate if necessary.”

  “Weirdo. Mine is curry.”

  “As if that’s not weird!” I laughed. “Okay, how about your favorite animal?”

  “Crows. They’re one of the smartest animals on Earth, you know. What about yours?”

  Was that really a question? “Fox, duh.”

  He blushed again. We continued back and forth with our meaningless questions until one struck a chord with me.

  “Favorite childhood memory,” Wesley asked, and my body tensed. All pretense at relaxing fled.

  “Getting adopted,” I whispered, and he turned sharply toward me.

  “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean to...” He looked horrified at his blunder, so I forced a small smile to show I wasn’t mad.

  “It’s okay. I assume the twins didn’t tell you. Lucy and I grew up in foster care until we were adopted when we were thirteen. It wasn’t... the kind of place for good memories.”

  He looked thoughtful for a minute then blurted out, “My brother got shot.”

  I cocked my head to the side, searching for the right response, but thankfully he continued.

  “I was fifteen, and he was eight. We went down to our local grocery store to get some food for dinner, and while we were there, some asshole tried to rob the place at gunpoint. He was pointing a pistol at the cashier, demanding he open the tills, when a customer tried to be a hero and disarm him. As the guy got knocked to the ground, he started shooting. Just randomly pulling the trigger and firing. Everyone was screaming and yelling, so it took me a minute to realize my little brother wasn’t. One of the bullets had caught him in the back, and he was lying beside me on the floor, slowly bleeding out. It seemed like it took forever for the police to arrive and arrest the guy, and even longer for an ambulance to get there.”

  He fell silent, and my curiosity burned. “What happened to your brother?”

  “He lived, but the bullet was lodged in his spine, and they couldn’t get it out. He’s now paralyzed from the waist down.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath. That poor kid.

  “We were already living in a trailer park as it was, with Mom working two jobs to just keep on top of things, so when we found out how much the hospital bill was, not to mention the cost of ongoing care for Grant...” He smiled sadly. “I started doing some dodgy shit online, hacking bank databases and moving money around. I had no idea how to cover my tracks; I just wanted to take care of my mom and Grant. Eventually it all caught up with me though, and I was offered a choice of juvie or community service within Omega Group. No prizes for guessing which option I chose. After I worked off my required hours, they offered me a spot in their training program with the opportunity to join a team. It turns out they had been keeping an eye on me since I had started hacking and arranged it that theirs was the only ‘community service’ option offered instead of the normal way it’s done. Anyway, the money I earn all goes b
ack to supporting my brother. This year I managed to get all of his medical bills cleared and moved him and my mom into a new house with ramp access and everything.” The pride on his face when he spoke about all he had done for his family transformed him.

  “So that explains your argument with Lucy?” I guessed, and he grinned.

  “Uh huh. So.” He cleared his throat, shaking off the intense moment. “What about tattoos? Do you have any?”

  I leaned back in the tub once more, accepting the change in subject.

  “Nope, none. But I’ve always wanted one. Maybe I’ll have to ask Caleb and Cole where they get theirs done because they’re stunning. Like, unbelievably beautiful.”

  Wesley snickered like he knew something I didn’t. “You should ask them some time. Their artist is very passionate about his work.”

  “I’ll do that,” I murmured. “How about you? Any ink under that circus tent of a T-shirt?”

  He looked mildly offended at my description of his clothes. “Actually I do. All of us use the same tattoo artist, so I assure you it is equally as ‘beautiful’ as theirs.”

  “Can I see it?” I grinned, knowing he would probably say no, and he didn’t disappoint.

  “Maybe another day.”

  The bath had begun to cool, and I was more than warm enough to be done, so Wesley excused himself to rescue our dinner.

  19

  I finally saw the remaining members of the team again one Saturday morning at breakfast in the midst of an argument with Caleb over which one of us deserved the last pancake. River came in the front door with Austin not far behind. They both pulled up stools at the counter where the four of us were already sitting. Everyone’s body language sharpened just the tiniest bit, and I used the distraction to swipe the pancake in question and swiftly licked it all over while Caleb stared in shock.

  “I licked it, so it’s mine,” I gloated and set it on my plate to be drowned in syrup.

  Caleb’s outraged expression turned heated, and he smirked at me. “Well, by that logic...”

  I choked on my mouthful of pancake at the opening I’d created with my innocent statement. Crap. Luckily, River saved me further embarrassment.

  “That’s enough, you two,” he interrupted sternly. “First off, I need to get a couple of hours sleep, but then I’m heading back to the city to pick up some things. Kit, you and Austin will be coming with me to start your target practice at the shooting range. Despite the fact that we have been a bit under the gun with our current caseload, it is unacceptable for you not to know how to shoot if you’re to be included. Caleb and Cole, you will be picking up where we left off, Austin and I will take a few days to recuperate, and Wesley, you keep working on your current task. Everyone clear?”

  There was a chorus of “yes, sir” around the kitchen island. When River looked at me with a raised brow, I fought back a smile as I bobbed my head submissively and murmured, “Yes, sir.” I didn’t imagine the flame in his gaze this time.

  He made a pleased hum and pushed up from his stool. “Austin, get some rest. We leave in five hours.”

  The shooting range was quiet when we arrived in the late afternoon. When River left me with my biggest fan, he ordered us to be civil to one another. I wasn’t sure civil was possible for either one of us, but perhaps we could get by with minimal interaction.

  Austin signed us in and set us up at the far end of the booths before pulling two different sized handguns from the case he carried.

  “I assume you’ve never handled a firearm before?” He sneered at me. Great, the training session would go well with his attitude.

  “You assume correctly.” I gritted my teeth and added, “Asshole,” under my breath. After all, I really did need to learn how to shoot, regardless of the teacher.

  He rolled his eyes. “This is going to be slow going. Okay, here’s what you need to know before we begin....” He proceeded to rattle off a crash course in gun safety without once stopping to check that I understood or followed what he was saying.

  Finishing his lecture, he picked up one of the guns and pointed to each part, naming them. “Barrel, slide, safety, magazine, sight, trigger. Got it?”

  I nodded, memorizing every piece.

  “Here’s how you load it,” he said as he added a series of efficient hand movements and a full magazine clicked into place. “Flick the safety off, aim, shoot.” Demonstrating as he spoke, he fired the gun without any more warning, and I jerked. The sound echoed in my ears and left them ringing. Austin gave me a look as though I was a simpering idiot, and my face flamed in embarrassment.

  “Your turn. Think you can handle this, Princess?” His condescending tone contradicted his concerned expression, although why he would be concerned was a mystery to me. I must be reading him wrong. Clenching my jaw, I kept my anger in check and my mouth shut as I took the gun. Replicating his movements, I checked the gun then aimed it at the paper target and squeezed the trigger lightly. Nothing happened. I frowned in confusion, glancing first at the obviously faulty weapon and then at my surly teacher standing behind me. Eyes narrowed and his lip curled in contempt, he reached over my shoulder and clicked off the safety.

  Whoops.

  I tried again, and the kickback on the gun sent the bullet wide. It didn’t even graze the edge of the paper target. As expected, Austin snickered behind me. Judgmental bastard. Boiling, I tried again. The shot went wide again.

  “Great shot, Christina.” The smug comment was anything but a compliment. “I’m sure the people in the next lane would appreciate you not hitting their target though.”

  “As amusing as I’m sure you find this, I might point out that River gave you a direct order to teach me how to shoot. Not stand there with your finger up your ass laughing at my inexperience,” I reminded him.

  His glower gave me a small sense of satisfaction. At least I could hit that target.

  Grudgingly, he began to show me the correct way to hold the firearm, how to stand, how to aim, and how to absorb the recoil so as not to jerk the gun when firing. His hands were confident and firm on my body as he adjusted my position, but he didn’t linger a second longer than what was strictly necessary. Once I was able to grasp these concepts, my aim improved remarkably. The closer I came to hitting the center of the target, the surlier Austin became.

  After firing the gun several hundred times, or so it seemed, my cantankerous mentor declared it was time for a break. I gratefully pulled off my earmuffs and raced back out to the entry lobby where I’d seen a sign for toilets. My bladder had been on the verge of bursting for close to an hour, but I’d refused to ask him for a break.

  Coming back out of the ladies feeling much fresher, I spotted River standing with his back to me, so I snuck up behind him.

  “Back so soon, Sir?” I teased, hoping to get another one of those looks out of him, but instead as he spun to face me, a flash of panic tensed his expression for a millisecond before lust heated his eyes, reminding me of how he’d looked at me the night we first met.

  “Sweetheart,” he purred in his sexy British accent, sliding his strong arm around my waist and pulling me in close to his body. “Didn’t I tell you only to call me that in the bedroom?” His husky laugh wrapped around me before he glanced over my shoulder. “Women, huh?”

  “You didn’t mention you had a girlfriend.” A rough voice with a heavily Eastern European accent answered him. Curiosity road me, and I casually turned in River’s embrace to see who was speaking. He was a heavyset man, shorter than River by almost a head, which explained why I hadn’t seen him when I approached. The other man’s face was engulfed in a dirty brown beard, and he had a thick scar running through one eyebrow.

  I smiled sweetly, playing along. “It’s a new relationship.”

  River hummed in agreement and introduced me as Emily. I offered the man my hand to shake, but he snatched it up and pressed a lingering, wet kiss to my knuckles. Fighting a shudder of revulsion, I leaned back into River’s chest, and he tighten
ed his grip on my waist.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emily. I am Sergei.” He ran his rat-like gaze all over me, and it made me feel dirty just standing there. Something told me Sergei was not a nice man. I smiled politely back at him but linked my fingers through River’s at my waist and clung tightly.

  “Tell me, what is a pretty little thing like you doing in a gun store?” He asked the question mildly, but something told me he was smarter than he was letting on. Maybe River and I hadn’t sold the idea that we were together.

  I took a gamble by playing the stereotype and giggled like an airhead, scooping my long hair over my shoulder then running my hand down the length, which drew Sergei’s attention to my chest. “Oh, we aren’t here for me, silly! I could never shoot a gun; they’re way too scary. I just love seeing my man here handling these big, dangerous weapons. It makes me so.... hot....” I bit my lip like a fucking twit and wiggled my backside against our stern-faced leader. River’s breath caught, and triumph surged through me. Huh, River wasn’t as unaffected by me as he seemed.

  “Well, with that in mind, Sergei, I hope you’ll understand if we excuse ourselves?” River drawled, tugging me away without waiting for a response.

  He didn’t let go of me until we were back on the shooting range and at the end booth where Austin was waiting. When we got to him, River released my hand and puffed out a breath. Rubbing his hand across his permanent three-day stubble, he surprised me with a laugh. Humor wasn’t the response I’d been expecting.

  “Shit, love. You’re not a half-bad actress.”

  I glowed at his praise, not mentioning that it didn’t really require a huge amount of acting skill to act turned on by the idea of him firing guns. He was in another sharp suit again today, and my imagination drooled a little at the rugged James Bond look he pulled off oh so well.