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  OUT OF THE DARK

  By

  Geri Foster

  Out Of The Dark

  By Geri Foster

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright 2013 by Geri Foster

  Cover Graphics

  Kathleen Baldwin

  Lilburn Smith

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  Author contact information: [email protected]

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

  Acknowledgments

  This book is affectionately dedicated to the courageous women who lovingly pulled me through this story one word at a time. Caroline Clemmons, Ashley Kath-Bilsky, Brenda Chitwood and Carra Copelin. Without you, there would be no stories in my heart to write. Thank you for making me believe.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Moscow

  Emily Richards opened her hotel room, stepped inside, and secured the lock. From behind, a calloused hand clamped over her mouth, threatening to shut off her much needed oxygen. Her shocked scream crumbled into a muffled murmur.

  Her muscles tightened and cold sweat covered her body.

  The man’s arm wrapped around her chest and pulled her against a hard muscular body.

  Emily’s purse and briefcase dropped to the floor as she desperately fought off her attacker by kicking and squirming. Her elbow jabbed his ribs, rewarding her with a grunt. She twisted frantically to break free.

  “Be still,” a male voice hissed against her ear. The terse command shot her horror into a higher realm of terror. “Relax, it’s me, Mac. I’m not here to hurt you.”

  The hand fell away, and Emily stumbled forward before catching her balance. Fists balled, she turned to her assailant. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  A light clicked on, chasing away the darkness. He stood close to her, serious and unapologetic. “I need a ride.”

  “How did you get in my room?” Her hands trembled like a defendant waiting for sentencing.

  He shrugged. “Easy lock to pick.”

  The nerve of the guy. “You can’t just barge into my hotel room. I’m here on business.”

  “I know.”

  “A simple phone call and a request would have been in order and appreciated.”

  Dressed in black from head to toe, Falcon Securities agent, John ‘Mac’ McKinsey stared at her with a grim expression. He always looked grim. He was grim. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him smile.

  “I’m not asking.” Mac soundlessly moved across the room to the window. Pulling back the heavy drape, he peered down at the Moscow streets below. “Frank is.”

  She threw down the hairbrush she’d snatched off the dresser during their struggle. “That makes it okay for you to scare the living crap out of me?” Emily ran her palms down her face to keep from breaking her cardinal rule to never use the F-word.

  Annoyed at Mac helping himself to her room, Emily picked her purse and briefcase off the floor and slung them onto a nearby chair.

  The so-called suite she’d booked would hardly pass for a regular room. Hotel Katarina City might claim to be four stars, but that was a matter of opinion. It consisted of one large room, the bathroom and a tiny closet. The smell of cheap air freshener hung heavy in the room.

  Mac moved away from the window and retrieved a black leather valise from the floor. Ignoring her, he put the bag on the suitcase rack. While the silence grew, he slid the zipper, pulled out a pair of jeans-black, of course-and tossed them onto the bed.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you. I had to make sure your neighbors didn’t hear anything.” He nodded toward the wall between her room and the next.

  He had nothing to worry about. The people in the next room kept their TV turned up loud, twenty four-seven.

  “I finished a job in St. Petersburg,” Mac continued with a shrug. “I have to get out of the country as quick as I can.” He took his face out of the bag long enough to glance her way. “Frank found out you were here with access to a private plane.”

  A couple laughing in the hall walked past the closed door. Emily moved further into the room, careful to step around her unwanted guest.

  Not sure what to do, she folded her arms and said, “I just settled a case for Stromberg Chemicals. I’m scheduled to fly out tomorrow. But that doesn’t mean you can come. If you’re on an assignment, as the Falcon attorney, I can’t get involved. You know that.”

  “I do, but I didn’t have a choice. I’m on that plane or dead.” His glance turned to a solemn glare. “Is that reason enough?”

  She rubbed her forehead. This is crazy. “You can’t just show up at the airport in the morning and get on a private jet. You need papers.”

  He reached into his back pocket, pulled out a passport and tossed it on the nightstand.

  Eying the passport she swallowed. “Is that even legal?”

  He looked at the blue book then tilted his head. “We’ll find out tomorrow.”

  Mac kicked off his shoes, unbuttoned his jeans then slipped off his T-shirt as he headed for the bathroom.

  Emily stepped back, her lips tight. Mac had a torso right out of a muscle-man magazine. He was ripped from shoulders to stomach. Talk about a six pack. This man’s body was yummy, yummy delicious, dipped in fudge and covered with sprinkles.

  She fought to gather her wits. “Where are you going?”

  “Shower,” he called over his shoulder then shut the bathroom door.

  Looking at the ceiling, Emily murmured. “God, that man is so annoying.” Amazed at Mac’s audacity, she fell backward onto the king-sized bed, spread eagle. “Damn.” The words swished on the air of a sigh. Closing her eyes she wondered how in the hell she’d ever clean up this mess.

  The sound of her cell phone ringing brought her upright. She reached for her purse. The caller ID came up. “Hey Brenda,” Emily said, trying to sound normal in the midst of male testosterone overload.

  “You about done there, girlfriend?”

  “I fly out first thing in the morning.”

  “So you finished dealing with that bunch of Russians?”

  Emily chewed her bottom lip as the sound of the shower running drifted from the bathroom. “Hmm, they are a stubborn bunch, and their court system is a nightmare. I’ve worked so hard my brain feels deep fried.”

  “You okay? You sound...nervous.”

  “No, no,” Emily quickly chimed. “Everything is fine.” If Brenda knew any Falcon agent was showering in her hotel room, the interrogation would go on for an eternity.

  “Well, I hope they’re paying you lots of money,” Brenda replied.

  “Not enough. Only the promise of a nice long vacation when I finish has kept me going.”

  “So you head out tomorrow?”

  Emily had to get off the phone before Mac finished his shower. “That’s right.”

  “I can’t wait. Got my bathing suit rocking ready to go.” Brenda laughed. “And I’ve lost five more pounds.”

  “That’s wonderful.” She eyed the bathroom door.

  “Yes.” Brenda screamed with joy. “I know, it isn’t much, but I’m loving it. Thirty pounds lighter. Imagine, skinny, little me.”

  “Amazing,” Emily pumped her fist. “Yay.” Way too weak for her friend of twenty years to believe.


  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m great. Not thinner, but I’m fine. Just fine and dandy.”

  “When does your plane land?”

  “I’m not sure with all the time changes.” The thought of Mac completely naked anywhere in her proximity sent goose bumps running a marathon up and down her spine. “I’ll call you from London. My corporate ride ends there.”

  “I’ll be packed, waiting.”

  “Okay.”

  An uncomfortable silence stretched out like a poorly written deposition transcribed by a first year law student.

  “Emily?” Brenda asked.

  Oh God, here it comes.

  Emily forced herself to sound perky, “Yes?”

  “Are you okay with the whole Stanley thing?”

  Deep sadness dug its sharp claws into Emily’s heart. She squeezed her eyes tight to keep the tears at bay. Despite her efforts, the pain radiated like a festering sore, robbing her of happiness and normalcy. “I’m okay.”

  “I mean really okay. And don’t BS me. I can tell when you’re lying.”

  Hot tears scalded the back of Emily’s eyes causing her to blink them away. Not tonight. Not anymore. And not with Mac in her shower. “It’s not like I was madly in love with the guy.” She couldn’t believe her own lie.

  “Emily.” Brenda’s voice disputed her claim.

  “Look,” she walked over to the bay window and stared out across the Moskva River. The bright city lights glowed against a night black as a judge’s robe. The sounds of honking horns, squealing tires and hordes of people traveled all the way to the fifth floor. Rain speckled the glass.

  “I’m doing the best I can to get over all this,” Emily said. “I admit, thinking about him still hurts, but nothing I can’t get past. I’ll be completely back to normal by the time we hit the beach in Belize.”

  She needed that beach to heal her hurt and end the humiliation of the last four months. Maybe the sun would dry her salty tears completely and give her the courage to show her face to family and friends again. She only had three weeks until the wedding.

  “You promise,” her friend pried. “I can go over there and...”

  Emily shook her head. “No, I’m good.”

  To her relief a call broke in and she looked at the caller ID screen.

  “I have go. It’s another client.” She unbuttoned her jacket and kicked off her heels. “Get packed. I’m taking this vacation if it’s the last thing I do.”

  Emily switched to the new call. Frank Hamilton, Director of Falcon Securities, waited on the other end.

  Shrugging off her jacket, she tossed it on the bed. “Frank?”

  “Emily?” Frank’s voice always sounded like her father’s scolding tone when she’d been caught sneaking in after curfew. “How’s Russia?”

  “The weather’s a little chilly even for late June. But otherwise, fine.” She waited for him to mention the fact that he’d sent his agent to her hotel room in the middle of the night without bothering to let her know. “I just wrapped up a deal for Stromberg Chemicals. Why?”

  The long silence signaled Frank might, for the first time, be at a loss for words.

  “You leaving tomorrow?” he asked?

  “Yes,” Emily replied. “The company jet is scheduled to leave at eight.”

  “You need to do something for me.” Frank said. Well, actually commanded. He didn’t sugarcoat anything, and being nice had never been his forte. But she’d comply. That’s why she stayed on his payroll, that and a dozen other reasons.

  “What’s on your mind?” Emily asked, waiting for the whole Mac thing to ease into the conversation. “It’s been a grueling mediation.”

  Again with the silence. “Are you in your hotel room?”

  “Yes,”

  “Uh, is Mac there?”

  “He was waiting for me when I walked into my room. Do I need to tell you how pissed that made me? A simple phone call, an earlier phone call, would have been nice.”

  “Okay, okay.” Frank chuckled dryly. “So he was waiting in your room?”

  “He scared the living hell out of me. Think of it Frank. I’m a single woman alone in Russia and you have one of your agents blindside me in my hotel room. Are you out of your mind?” Emily’s voice rose, but she didn’t care.

  “Ah, he scares me sometimes too, but you get used it.” Frank let out a tired breath. “Get Mac on the plane with you tomorrow.”

  The phone went dead. Emily looked at the darkened screen and wondered why that ‘gotcha’ feeling hadn’t kicked in yet.

  “You’re not getting away with this!” She yelled at the phone before tossing it on the bed next to her jacket.

  She’d had some dealings with Mac before, and wished he’d change careers. He had a way of getting himself and Falcon Securities in unimaginable trouble, and she meant serious trouble. Regardless of his methods, Frank swore Mac was one of the best agents he had, and he’d backed him a hundred percent. No matter the cost.

  Speaking of the devil, Mac stepped out of the shower wearing only a towel and carrying the fresh scent of hotel soap, and her Aussie shampoo. Emily’s knees grew weak.

  “What’s all the yelling about?” he asked.

  God, his body should be considered a controlled substance.

  “Frank called.”

  Mac stopped drying his hair and looked at her. “And?”

  “He wants you to fly back with me tomorrow morning.”

  Shrugging shoulders that should belong to a dedicated bodybuilder, he stepped to the bed where his pants lay. His tapered back was as well defined as the front. For a guy, he had flawless skin. No tats, no moles, and no tan lines. However, the scars told a tale of a life lived on the edge.

  Heat flared from her chest up her neck to her cheeks. Her imagination went on a wild safari.

  But she still didn’t like him.

  From behind, his gluteus maximus moved in a rhythm that soaked up all the moisture in her mouth. Her nails dug into the palms of her hands as she watched the damp towel drape perfectly across his rear, the hollow of his lower back, and cling to the roundness of his butt cheeks.

  Emily prayed she didn’t have drool dripping out of her mouth.

  The hotel suite shrunk to the size of a small single room at a pay-by-the-hour motel where the air conditioners didn’t work.

  No matter how annoying Mac could be, he had the hottest body she’d ever seen. With him wearing nothing but a towel, Emily grew more intoxicated than when she’d left the bar earlier after a couple of drinks. The hotel room spun like a carousel, and she fought to keep her breathing normal.

  He turned and his amazing blue eyes pierced her paper thin armor. “So, what’s the problem?”

  Emily stopped and tried to remember what they were talking about. She could only stare...and imagine...and wish for...and...sigh.

  He frowned and cocked his head. “You okay?

  Emily licked her lips and slowly swam out of her daze. She crossed her arms again. “I’m pissed you showed up in my room without asking. At least you could have warned me.”

  Why doesn’t he get dressed? Looking at his chest and the bulge between his legs was harder than not watching his rear. The man was physically perfect. His brown hair sported a cute cowlick right in the center of his forehead, but his he wore it so short no one would notice that it hadn’t been combed or not. The darker shadow on his lower face gave him a vaguely sinister look, but he couldn’t totally pull off the bad boy guise. He was simply too damn good looking.

  “I apologize for that, but I was in a jam.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “If you spend time in foreign countries, Emily, you need to learn some self-defense moves. They might come in handy,” Mac said.

  Her brows squeezed closer together. “What?”

  “Figure out ways to rig your door so you know if anyone has entered since you left. Don’t fumble with your keycard. Make sure no one is standing behind you.” Again he shrugged. “You know
, stuff like that.”

  She grew speechless for a moment then put her hands on her hips. “Normally, I don’t need to be a martial arts expert because usually a spy isn’t waiting for me inside my room. Besides, I have a can of mace somewhere.”

  “Best place for that is in your hand.”

  Emily shook her head. Did she hear him right? He breaks into her room, uses her shower then scolds her for being careless?

  “A gal could get in trouble pretty easily around here.” Mac said. “These Russians don’t mess around. They don’t care if you’re a woman. And never, ever drink when you are in a strange environment. Too dangerous.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “Famous last words?”

  She narrowed her eyes at the sarcasm in his voice. “I can take care of myself, thank you.”

  How did he know she’d had a few drinks? Oh, so the spy had been spying. “You were watching me?”

  He spread out his hands, hitched his hip, and wrinkled his forehead in a mocking manner she found insulting.

  “You think I’d come into this room if I didn’t have a handle on the situation. Hell no. I saw you in the hotel bar with a couple of Russians who looked the lawyer types. I checked to make sure you didn’t have a traveling companion. Only then I knew it was safe for me to make myself at home.”

  She smacked her lips and nodded her head. “And I see you have.”

  He removed a black T-shirt from the open bag on the chair and slipped it over his head. As his arms came up, the towel slowly slid off his hips, down his well-defined legs and puddled on the floor at his feet.

  Emily’s knees wobbled and she grabbed the side of the dresser to keep from falling. She refused to acknowledge his penis nestling in a soft pillow of dark hair. No, try as she might, she couldn’t look away.

  He shrugged the shirt into place then took his jeans off the bed and stuck one leg in, then the other. He bounced slightly to settle the pants in place then snapped the front closed. When he raised his head and their eyes clashed, Emily tried to breath normally so her heart would stop racing..