Michel/Striker Read Online Free PDF Page A

place they’ve become accustomed to and moved to new surroundings. It doesn’t matter if it’s a mile or a thousand miles.”
    Richard’s face flushed to an ugly shade of puce, his hand deliberately moving to the gun that was holstered at his side.
    “And I’m dealing with stockholders who expect a profit on the considerable investment we made in your employer,” he bit out. “Each day that passes without progress is day they’re losing money. And I can assure you they don’t like losing money.”
    Damn. Locke swallowed a sigh. It was obvious he’d procrastinated as long as he dared.
    He wasn’t afraid of Colonel Richard Cole. The puffed-up blowhard might think he was tough, but he’d never come upon a man who’d spent the first years of his life struggling to survive.
    But he didn’t want to alert Christopher to the fact that he’d been dragging his feet. His master wouldn’t be amused.
    “I’ll try to resume my work tomorrow,” he grudgingly promised.
    Of course the prick couldn’t just be satisfied with that.
    “When can I expect to share your efforts with my prospective buyers?” he pressed.
    “I can’t give you an exact time.”
    “Then let me do it for you.” The Colonel moved forward to point a blunt finger directly in Locke’s face. “I’ll pick you up on Thursday afternoon. Make sure you’re prepared to impress.”
    With a precise, military turn, Richard was heading toward the door, his heels clicking on the floor.
    Left on his own, Locke moved to open the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out the twenty-year-old bottle of cognac. After being abandoned by his alcoholic mother, he rarely touched spirits. But if ever a time demanded a drink…this was it.
    “Bloody hell,” he muttered, pouring a shot and tossing it down his throat.

CHAPTER 3
    Michel had never considered himself a male who could be led around by his cock.
    Just the opposite.
    He was a male who had a firm leash on his impulses. And passions.
    The early years of being forced to watch the world from his bedroom window had taught him patience, grim determination, and overall self-discipline.
    So why did he turn into some raving sex addict the second he caught this female’s scent?
    Refusing to contemplate the most obvious explanation, he halted behind an empty Dumpster and studied the brick building.
    “Give me the rundown,” he said in clipped tones.
    Chelsea stood at his side, but with several inches separating them. Because she feared he might try to kiss her again? Or because she was as conscious as he was of the heat smoldering between them?
    “He’ll have cameras at each corner of the roof.” She pointed toward the recently replaced eaves where he could see a small camera. “He’ll also have the fence wired to sound an internal alarm whenever anything touches it.”
    Michel nodded, his gaze taking in the empty parking lot and the darkened windows. The place felt…empty.
    “Guards?”
    “It’s hard to say,” she said, her voice so soft only a Pantera could pick up the words.
    With a frown he turned his head to study her profile. “Why?”
    “Because I don’t know how many he brought with him.” She shrugged. “If he’s planning to make this his base he’ll have two dozen guards. If it’s a temporary hideout then he’ll only have three or four.”
    “Anything else you can tell me?”
    “Yes, I sense…” She hesitated, gnawing her nail as she gazed toward the dark building.
    He absently reached to tug her thumb away from her mouth, studying her distracted expression.
    “What do you sense?”
    “A human, maybe two.” She paused, then gave a shake of her head. “No Pantera.”
    Michel gave a slow nod, his gaze continuing to search for hidden dangers. Despite his cat’s strange belief in the female standing next to him, he would be a fool not to suspect this was a trap.
    “I’m going to do a quick sweep,” he abruptly decided, sending her a warning frown. “Don’t move.”
    She blinked in