Total Surrender

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Total Surrender Page 18

by Rebecca Zanetti


  He covered her hand with his, leading her into the kitchen, scanning the room for any threats before allowing her in. Then he tuned into his senses, the ones he shouldn’t have, and listened as well as smelled the entire house. Nobody had been there.

  The scents of woman and cinnamon tempted him, and his mouth watered.

  Piper shook free and wandered toward the cream-colored refrigerator, which showed pictures of several elderly ladies playing bridge, cricket, and even golf. A postcard to “Aunt Edna” hung next to the pictures.

  “Ah, where’s Aunt Edna?” Piper asked quietly.

  Jory stilled. Shit. She didn’t think he’d off an old lady just to gain a safe house, did she? “Aunt Edna won a cruise for four the other day, and her nephew Jack came to take care of her place.”

  Piper turned around, her lashes fluttering open. “Hi, Jack.”

  “Hi.” He took in her pinched lips and her hitched movements. “Take off your shirt, baby.”

  Piper knew exactly why he wanted her shirt off, and based on the pounding ache in her shoulder blade and the warm stickiness down her back, she needed a bandage.

  She also knew he expected her to argue.

  He eyed her, eyes veiled, sexual tension filtering around him. The man could overtake any environment, filling it with… him. The kitchen walls closed in, cocooning them in intimacy. His eyes burned into her in a move that even felt physical.

  So she shrugged out of her shirt and let her still unhooked bra slide to the ground.

  His eyes glinted, and his mouth slacked open.

  Keeping a triumphant grin off her face, she turned around and placed her hands on the bright yellow Formica table. Yep, playing with fire once again. But the guy had been in perfect control since the second he’d rammed the kidnapper’s vehicle, and the woman in her wanted to take some of that away.

  Instant warmth heated her from behind. Man, he moved fast… and silently. Then he dug in drawers until finding a clean dishcloth and opened the cupboard beneath the sink to draw out a first-aid kit.

  “Take a deep breath, sweetheart.”

  The low voice warmed something deep in her abdomen. “So, ah, how did you know the tracker was in my back?”

  He pulled in air. “Ah…”

  Her eyelids shot up, and her shoulders went back as memories awakened her. “Wait a minute.” When they were rolling around and kissing on Earl’s rug… when Jory had made her come like a locomotive. “The other night. You were searching me for a tracker?” The anger spiraling through her remained welcome, but the hurt dropped hard into her blood.

  “Believe me, darlin’. That wasn’t my main focus.” Wetting the rag, he gently wiped off her back. “Not bleeding too badly, which is good.” Drying the skin, he then slid a bandage into place. “No stitches needed.” His voice came out low. Intense.

  Oh, the man was sex on a stick and arrogant enough to think he controlled the damn universe. He was about to learn better. Just who did he think he was?

  She set her jaw. “Is that all?”

  “Yes.”

  Not bothering to reclaim the ripped cotton shirt, she turned around, carefully keeping her face blank.

  He inhaled sharply, that impressive chest moving with the breath. “What’s your game, green eyes?”

  “Game?” She lifted an eyebrow and tried to look innocent, even as the cool air peaked her nipples. Her fully exposed, rather achy, nipples.

  Crimson spread across his masculine cheekbones.

  Yeah, she was tempting him. Teasing him. Completely messing with him. He deserved it for throwing her so off balance.

  His smile was slow and somehow dangerous. Then his face softened in a way she’d never seen before.

  Her breath caught, and she belatedly wondered if she’d pushed too far. “Uh—”

  Warm hands manacled her hips and lifted, setting her down on the table. He stepped into her, his muscled thighs forcing hers apart.

  She gripped the table, trying to keep from falling back. Vulnerability flashed through her, followed by a blast of heat so rapid it stole her breath. “What are you doing?”

  He leaned in, hands flexing. “Picking up your challenge.” Smooth as silk, his lips brushed her cheek. “Didn’t you think I would?”

  “No.” Danger, red sign, clanging error message. “I, ah, didn’t.”

  “That was your first mistake.” His voice rumbled so close to her ear, the tenor vibrated just under her skin. Oddly soft, and intriguingly gentle.

  “Wh-What was my second?”

  “I’m hoping you make that soon.” Not giving her time to think, to react, he wandered his mouth down the side of her face, leaning her over to gain better access. With a low growl, he nipped at the area between her neck and shoulder. His mouth was hot, smooth. Devastatingly firm.

  She shivered and bit back a moan. Her fingers curled into his chest.

  He remembered. Just how to touch her. She was so out of her element.

  “We need to talk,” she breathed, trying to calm her rioting body. Two more seconds, and she wouldn’t care about talking. She wouldn’t care about anything but the pleasure she already knew he could create. “Please.”

  He levered back, keeping his hard groin against her needy one. “So talk.”

  “Um. This is a bad idea.” How in the world was she even talking about this? Really. “I don’t trust you.” Yet did she? The man had taken on three armed kidnappers just to save her. That meant something.

  “So trust me.” He slid his hands under her arms and curled one hand behind her neck to fist her hair. “What will it take?”

  How was she supposed to concentrate with him so close, smelling of male and aggression? Yeah. Aggression. And damn if it wasn’t turning her on. “The truth.”

  “I’ve never lied to you.” Those fingers tightened, one pressing on the pulse point beneath her ear.

  Until this moment, she hadn’t realized that was an erogenous zone. “So you’re some super-soldier created by my father who escaped and is now back.” She tried for sarcasm, but her voice emerged way too breathy.

  “Yes.” His thumbs ran along her jawline from front to back, and his eyes warmed as if marveling at the touch. “There’s something here, Piper. I have less than three days to live, and I’m not playing anymore. You feel it, I feel it, and I’m fucking tired of pretending otherwise.”

  “I’m not pretending there isn’t something here.” She found lying a waste of time. “However, it might not be something good.” And they didn’t have time for it, since the clock was ticking to detonation. He’d be dead in days if she didn’t figure out how to reach his chip.

  “You and me? We’d be fantastic.”

  “Like you were with Mara from Vegas?”

  His face turned to stone. Not froze, not stilled… just lost all expression. All humanity. Faster than possible, he pressed against her until she was flush against the counter.

  She shivered, exposed and vulnerable. Controlled.

  “They told you about Mara?” His touch lost the gentle teasing quality and turned intense, and he bent toward her, his body over hers.

  “No.” She tried unsuccessfully to yank from his grasp. “They showed me a recording. You’re impressive, going all night like that.” Sarcasm nearly burned her tongue as she spat it out, oddly jealous, and oddly hurt.

  Then she lost her breath as he gripped her hips, lifted, and pressed her against the fridge. Not hard but not exactly gentle. Pictures rained down.

  “What do they know about Mara?” he ground out, no mercy in those unholy eyes.

  Her body jolted, and her head swam from being jerked upright so quickly. She blinked. “What do you care?” she coughed out. The guy had used the blonde for information as part of a mission.

  “I care.” He leaned in, easily holding her aloft, a new darkness chasing away the light in his eyes. “Please tell me about Mara. Now.”

  It hit her suddenly, and with the oddest force, that she didn’t fear him. Call i
t instinct, call it stupidity, but any fear she’d had was gone. “Why?” she asked softly.

  His head jerked back. “She’s my friend. At least she used to be, and I can’t let them get to her.”

  Right. “I can see how you’d use a friend like that.”

  “Damn it.” He set her down gently. Then he bent and rummaged in a duffle bag before yanking out a laptop, setting it next to her, and quickly punching up a screen.

  Piper tried to sidle to the door.

  His arm snaked out and yanked her into him, her chest to his side. “Stay.”

  Stay? Oh, he didn’t.

  He typed quickly. Several seconds later, a cute blonde came on. “J?” she asked, her blue eyes wide.

  Same woman, but she looked softer. More like the girl next door than an exotic dancer involved with a mobster. She wore a pink sweatshirt, minimal makeup, and had cut her thick hair into a cute bob.

  Piper tried to draw back, and the iron band around her waist turned to solid steel.

  Jory nodded. “Hey.”

  Mara pushed her face closer to the screen. “Oh my God. Where have you been? I’ve worried so much, then I was afraid you went undercover again, and then I got worried you’d been…”

  “I’m fine but was undercover.” He kept the screen angled so Piper could see Mara, but Mara couldn’t see anything but Jory. “Are you all right? I had to check.”

  Mara smiled. “I’m totally great. Devon was just promoted at work, and Katie is taking ballet.” She snorted. “Believe me, her affinity for dance isn’t lost on me.”

  Jory chuckled, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “What about Jackson?”

  Mara’s eyes softened. “He just started preschool, and I bawled all day to have him gone, but he’s the smartest kid in the class.”

  “I’m sure he is.” Jory’s voice softened. “You’re safe? No signs of any problems?”

  “No.” Mara leaned even closer to the screen. “I’m safe, J. I promise. How about you?”

  “Getting there.” He pressed his fingers on the keys. “If you need anything, or if you feel any danger, you know how to contact me. My lines are back up.”

  She nodded. “I’ve missed you. Glad you’re alive.”

  “Ditto.” He clicked off. Then a huge sigh rolled through his impressive chest.

  Sweet. Undeniably sweet. Piper curled her fingers over the table end. “I didn’t say she was in danger. The commander just has the video of your time in Vegas—I didn’t see anything besides you using Mara and taking information from a safe. No indication that she’s in any danger.”

  He breathed out. “Thank you.”

  “No problem. Although now I’m more confused than ever.” And a little jealous.

  He nodded and stepped back, releasing her. “Mara was a job, and then she was a friend who wanted to get the hell out. So we played it up for the camera, I got the info, and then I found her a new life. Last I checked, two years ago basically, she was a real soccer mom in the suburbs married to a banker. Turns out she still is.”

  Was any of this true? “Why two years ago and not since?”

  “That’s when I got shot and ended up in a coma. Came out of it three months ago.” Jory rubbed his chin and glanced down at her bare chest. The environment shifted again. Tension spiraled around, nipping and sucking. His gaze darkened. “Either put on a shirt or let’s take this where we want it to go.”

  She swallowed. Her body warmed and thrummed. But her mind clicked into gear, and she backed away. “Shirt?”

  With a low snarl of impatience, he yanked off his T-shirt and slammed the cotton over her head.

  Warmth, spice, and man filled her senses.

  Then muscle, hard male, and danger filled her view. “Your chest is freakin’ unbelievable.” As were his abs.

  “Look who’s talking,” he said, a smile hovering on his full lips, his intensity not diminished a bit.

  She eyed the sexy tattoo above his heart. “Freedom. It means everything, right?”

  He glanced down and tapped the smooth lines. “All four of us got it when we escaped. You could say it’s our family crest.”

  Sweet. Desperately sweet. She hugged herself and meandered over to sit in a chair. The adrenaline rush of the day was waning, and she needed some balance. More and more she was starting to believe him. Seeing Mara in the flesh, happy and serene, had certainly helped. “You mentioned my assisting you.”

  “Chance.” Jory crossed the table and dropped into a matching chair. “He and two other boys are at the facility being trained by your father and threatened with death. I need you to get information about them to me so I can get them out. Get them freedom.”

  “I will.” Chills wandered down her back. The back that had until recently held a foreign device without her consent. Her father had lied and basically tagged her like a dog.

  Her heart spasmed, bombarded by harsh reality. She’d wanted to trust her father, and she’d wanted to know him. Much like she wanted to know Jory. Could either man be trusted, or were they cut from the same damaging cloth?

  Her chest hurt, and she rubbed over her heart.

  “The commander only knows cruelty and his own odd sense of destiny, and I’m sorry.” Jory leaned both elbows on the table. “I don’t want to, but I’ll prove it.”

  “Okay.” Her chin lifted.

  He dragged a nondescript phone from his back pocket. “Call the commander and tell him you’ve been taken by PROTECT, and that they want Chance. See what he says.”

  She eyed the phone and considered the possibilities, her head pounding. “You want me to lie to my father?” It would be taking a side, an absolute one.

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t,” she breathed, her gaze caught on the innocuous device.

  Jory brushed his thumb across her lips, and she looked up. “I wouldn’t ask if they weren’t kids. They need help.”

  Tears filled her eyes. Again. “Won’t he be able to track me?”

  “You won’t be on that long.”

  She swallowed, her gaze on the innocent-looking phone. Making the call, if she was caught, would forever end her relationship with her father. But he had lied to her, and he had inserted a tracking device into her flesh.

  Jory slid a warm hand along her jaw. “This sucks, baby, and I know it. The commander is a sociopathic prick, I’m a stone-cold killer about to die, and neither of us is a good bet. But you have to choose a side, and since I’m dead in three days, you have to choose now. Whatever side you choose, I’ll support.”

  She lifted her head to meet his gaze directly. “If I don’t choose you?”

  He studied her. “I’ll make sure you get home, and I’ll get those boys out myself. Nobody touches you—nobody hurts you. My word.”

  She believed him. Right or wrong, she believed him. “Jory.”

  “Choose me,” he said softly, a strong man who could be so devastatingly gentle.

  The words resonated through her, so much meaning encapsulated in them she couldn’t breathe.

  He waited patiently, his gaze intent.

  She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, her mind spinning through memories of the last week. In the end, in defiance of her impressive brain, she went with her gut, or maybe her heart, which was already full of him. “Fine.” Drawing the phone to her ear, she quickly dialed. Somebody had to save those kids.

  “Yes,” the commander barked.

  “It’s Piper,” she whispered.

  Silence for a moment. “Where are you?”

  “I don’t know.” Her voice shook, from the lying and the adjoining confusion. “Some PROTECT group has me, and they want Chance. Why would they want that sweet kid?”

  “I don’t know. How far away are you?” the commander asked.

  “I’m not sure.” She lowered her voice. “Is it true? Are you genetically enhancing soldiers?”

  He scoffed. “I expect you to get free, and once you do, contact me immediately. Not the police, not your mother, me. It
’s life or death for our cause here, Piper.”

  What cause? “I understand. But you didn’t answer me about your experiments.” Jory nodded, and she frowned back at him.

  He sighed loudly. “Obviously you’re using their phone. Give it to one of the men who has you.”

  She blinked at Jory, and he held out his hand. Taking the phone, he pushed the SPEAKER button. “We’ll kill her. You know it. Where are the newest abominations?” His voice emerged thick and with a Middle Eastern accent. If Piper hadn’t been watching him, she never would’ve realized he was the one speaking.

  “They’re not abominations, and you’ll never get to them.” The commander growled low. “Release my analyst, or there’s nowhere you can hide from me.”

  “Already hiding. Hand over your creations, or I’ll kill your daughter. With great pain.” Apology lingered in Jory’s eyes, even as he kept up the flawless accent.

  “My daughter understands my cause, and if need be, she’ll die for it.”

  Piper shook her head, her eyes widening. She opened her mouth to protest, and only Jory’s quick snap of his fingers kept her from speaking.

  “Just how far off God’s course have you fallen?” Jory asked, his voice serious while his eyes rolled.

  “All the way. What I’ve created will be the ultimate soldiers—beyond anything created by the God you love so much,” the commander said.

  Piper’s mouth fell open. Now it sounded like he was taking full responsibility. “Is your program sanctioned by the government, or have you gone rogue?” Her voice thickened with tears.

  “Stop asking stupid questions,” the commander ordered.

  Fine. How about a more direct question? She sucked in air. “They cut a silver tracking device out of my shoulder. Want to explain?”

  He hitched in a breath. “No. Now tell them to let you free, or I’ll send my best men after you.”

  “Why don’t you fucking come get me?” Her temper exploded, erasing the hurt.

  He sighed. “You’ll be safe soon. Don’t worry about your mother, as I’ll leave her a message that you’re working late and won’t be home tonight.”

  Yeah. That’d go over like an anvil to the head.

  Piper’s gut hurt. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes. The fantasy she’d harbored of her father wafted away like mist in a storm. He was a monster, and he didn’t care about her. Plus, he’d created soldiers on his own. No way was the government involved in that program.

 

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