Hard Target by Tibby Armstrong Read Free Book Online Page B

but other than the sports? That’s called being a bloke.” Günter chuckled at his own joke. “Now what’s the problem?”
    “Gibbons already knows I’m with Alex. I’m not sure if he knows who she is.” Simon fingered the edge of Alex’s electric bill. “If he does? I’m dead.”
    Günter sighed, sending a rush of breath over the cell.
    “She’s your handler. Go to her with it,” he said finally. “See what she wants you to do.”
    Simon ran a hand through his hair to his nape. Massaging the muscles there, he tilted his head back and wished for a professional massage.
    “Mate?”
    Simon grunted his response.
    “You don’t have to do what she says. Just ask her opinion. Keep her informed.”
    Sounds of a keyboard tap-tapping in the background showed Günter’s preoccupation with other matters on his already overflowing schedule. The predicament they found themselves in thanks to Simon couldn’t exactly be helping.
    “Sorry.”
    “No worries,” Gun answered. “There’ve been plenty of times when someone should’ve given me the same advice. I’m not exactly famous for asking for help.”
    “You’ve improved.” Simon dropped his hand to his side. “I was going to ask if you and Jenny wanted to meet us for a planning session, but maybe that should wait a bit. Until Alex and I strategize?”
    “Let me know when you need us. We’ll be there.”
    “Faust, we had a meeting,” David interrupted, apparently annoyed at being kept waiting.
    “I’ll let you get back to diva sitting,” Simon said. “Catch you later.”
    Günter gave a rueful snort. “Thanks.”
    Pressing the end button, Simon set his cell on the counter. He’d shower, then wake Alex. The discomfort of the cuffs probably kept her from sleeping well earlier. Twenty minutes later, still damp, dressed in only his jeans, he stood over Alex. Tracing the line of her cheekbone to her lips, he dared test their softness. Her tongue darted out to lick the place he’d touched. He watched, fascinated, as her lashes fluttered open to reveal pools of dark chocolate brown.
    Rather than give in to the impulse to kiss her, he lifted the handcuff key between his fingers. “Ready to get up?”
    “Ready to kick your ass into next week, more like.” She raised her wrists along the metal dowel securing the top and bottom of her headboard together.
    “Nice thing about keeping you bound for ten hours?” He inserted the key into one tiny lock. “The immobility in your shoulders when I let you go will slow you down.”
    Lip curled at him, she rattled the cuffs. “Just do it.”
    He released her and she tried to bring her arms to her sides. Eyes squeezing shut, nostrils flaring, she hissed a breath through her teeth and arched upward as pain flared in her muscles. He reached a hand toward her shoulder. “Want me to—”
    Jerking away, she rolled to the other side of the bed and curled into a ball. Unwilling to let her suffer alone no matter how much he loathed her and what she’d done to his life, he moved in behind her and tugged her close. Tucking her bottom to his abdomen, he wrapped an arm around her and held her. Little shudders took her as she rode the waves of pain. Minutes later, her breaths deepened.
    “Better?”
    She nodded and he felt her wince. Removing his hand from around her stomach, he gently pulled the thick mass of her hair up and away from her neck to drape it over her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
    She sniffed.
    “We need to get some breakfast.” Sitting up, he gained physical and emotional distance. “Shower and dress. I have things to tell you.”
    Wordlessly, she left the bed and pulled open dresser drawers to remove jeans and a black tee. He tried not to notice when she snagged lacey black panties and a matching bra. As she showered, he snooped. He opened drawers, hacked her personal laptop and her cell. From a hidden compartment under the seat of her desk chair, he withdrew a photo album. In the front pages a meager