“Follow me.” She moved forward and pointed at another metal door. “That leads to the lower level. It’s better not to go there.”
He could only imagine.
“This used to be the lobby. Now it’s the living room.”
The place was about thirty by thirty, large black-and-white tiles covering the floor. About a third of the space was taken up by an antique rug and three leather sofas, a giant entertainment center. Another corner of the room held a wet bar, surrounded by wall-to-wall bookcases.
He hadn’t figured the Colonel for a bookworm.
In another spot with plenty of elbow room, a gorgeous nine-foot, rosewood pool table stretched under special lights, the Diamond Professional. Now that was more like it. He slowed and took in the view. Fine. Fine. Fine.
Kaye cleared her throat, and when he looked at her, he found an indulgent smile on her face.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I understand,” she said. “I lust after his gardens.”
If they were talking about lust, he could have listed a few things—all of which included her—that he wanted considerably more than a game of pool. But he kept his list to himself as he followed her across the floor.
“Kitchen is that way.” She pointed down another hallway as she moved forward on those long legs now wrapped in a pair of brand-new blue jeans the Colonel had brought to the hospital with him along with some other clothes. They made her look a lot less Congress-womanish and a lot more approachable.
He tried to focus on what she was saying.
“For now, only the front part of the building is renovated. The rest is still pretty spooky. Cal had some rooms set up right here.” She nodded toward a row of doors. “This is his. This one is mine. And this will be yours, if that’s okay.” She opened the door.
He paused before stepping inside. “Do you stay here a lot?”
“Hardly ever.”
“I wonder why,” he said, deadpan.
She smiled. “I love Cal, but … Why would anyone want to live someplace like this?”
Maybe because it was as impenetrable as a fort. The place was built for security to start with. By the time the Colonel finished adding in the most modern electronic gadgets, the boys at Langley probably weren’t safer than this.
He stepped into the room after her, expecting a celllike space, an old patient’s room, but found instead something that looked like a spacious hotel room, equipped with the latest and best conveniences.
“Cal hired a designer,” Kaye said. “These couple of rooms used to be the offices for the bigwigs who ran the place.”
He looked around and out the window to the well-kept grounds, noticed where the iron bars had been sawed off. Charming.
“I’ll leave you to settle in,” she said and walked out the door.
He tossed his duffel bag on the floor and looked around again, more thoroughly this time. The place was solid. How long would the Colonel want to keep Kaye here? Now that he’d seen the place, he was in full agreement with the man. This was where Kaye needed to be until all threat was over.
He hopped into the shower then put on some clean clothes. He could hear water running on the other side of the wall. Employing all his self-mastery, he didn’t try to picture Kaye naked. Okay. Maybe a little.
He waited a good twenty minutes after the water stopped before walking over and knocking on her door.
“Come in.”
Man, she looked good. She always did. She had class, heart, courage. Then there were those legs …
“Want to go look for the Colonel?” he asked, to remind himself where they were.
“Sure. Just give me a minute.” She pulled her hair into a ponytail and twisted a rubber band around it.
She was standing at an angle in front of the wall mirror, her breasts straining against the simple T-shirt she’d put on. Nineteenth-century poets would have written sonnets about her curves. Having little literary inclination, all he could do was drool.
Or do something about it, damn it.
Before he could think too much, he moved up behind her. Their eyes met in the mirror, and he saw hers darken for a second. The next moment his hands were spanning her waist.
Then the alarm in his brain went off. He was groping Majority Whip Kaye Miller, future Speaker of the House of Representatives—in the Colonel’s house. He was her bodyguard, damn it.
He slid his hands up and had her in a restrictive hold before she could blink, careful not to put any pressure on her side.
“You can’t let your guard down. Not ever. Not anywhere,” he said, feeling like an ass, hoping she didn’t realize that his hands on her had little to do with the desire to teach her self-defense.
She twisted, lifted her arms like the handle of a corkscrew, dropped to the floor and rolled, giving a good kick to his knee at the same time.
She caught him by surprise with that. He’d been too focused on how the side of her breast felt against his chest as she slid down against him. He rubbed his knee. Served him right.
“I wish you would give me warning when you want to practice.”
“Did the man who knifed you at the hospital give you any warning?” He tried to sound reasonable to keep up the charade.
She looked away, then back. “Fine. Point taken.”
Her scent was still in his nostrils.
For a split second he thought he saw something in her eyes that looked a lot like the hot flash of desire that was singing through his own body.
Rules be damned.
“Do you want a warning, Kaye?” He stepped closer. “Here’s one. I’m going to kiss you.”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t move away.
He bent his head, leaned his forehead against hers and for a moment just breathed her in.
He had to be insane to be doing this.
Appropriate for the location, he thought wryly before brushing his lips gently over the silky curve of her cheek.
He didn’t dare put his arms around her, didn’t want to push her too far.
When she closed her eyes, he kissed each eyelid in turn, then the tip of her nose.
“You have a very sexy nose, Congresswoman.”
“Nobody has a sexy nose.” Her lips stretched into a smile.
“You do. I noticed it a long time ago. It even comes through on TV.”
She opened her eyes and looked into his. “You got a nose fetish or something, Mr. DuCharme?”
Her voice, all throaty-sounding, sent his blood rushing.
“It’s not just the nose.” He moved on to her chin and nibbled his way up to her ear. “There is all kinds of sexy going on here. Killer legs,” he added as an example when she drew up an ebony eyebrow.
He brushed his lips across hers, then pulled back.
That was all he’d intended to do.
Hell, he hadn’t even intended that. He’d intended to come and collect her then go find the Colonel and figure out what they were doing next.
But now that he’d come this far, he had trouble stopping.
Especially since she looked like she maybe, just maybe, didn’t want him to stop.
“Kaye?”
She lifted her arms and placed them gently on his shoulders.
And that was the end of him.
She tasted like the happiest of his dreams, a taste he barely remembered, since he tended not to dream at all or else about the blood of old missions.
To hell with who she was. He wanted her and he wanted her to know it. He wanted her to take him seriously this time.
And he wanted to take her as he would have taken any other woman, to prove to her that he could and, more importantly, to prove to himself that she wasn’t any different, no more worthy of the strange awe and sickening puppydog-like admiration he couldn’t help every time she was within sight.
He wanted to prove that the mind-bending fear he’d felt when she’d gone missing had not been real. That he hadn’t panicked. He was the toughest of tough guys,
super-secret special commando soldier. He needed to prove to himself that he couldn’t be done in by a woman.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, twenty seconds into the kiss, he began to understand that proving anything like that wasn’t going to happen.
She felt like everything and nothing. Everything he’d fantasized about kissing during his preteen years, and nothing like the experiences he’d actually ended up having since.
She shook him. He didn’t like that, saw it as a sign of weakness. But he didn’t want to stop. He wanted to taste her again. His brain refused to hold any thought beyond that.
His body moved with practiced ease, almost without conscious thought on his part, and steered her toward the bed. She weighed nothing. He laid her down gently, like a feather falling. She might not even have noticed it.
His hand found the spot where her T-shirt and jeans met and slipped inside. Then he stopped, his palm against her naked skin, and soaked up her heat.
Touching her like that felt like a dream, and he was afraid if he stopped, if he spoke, if he did anything at all other than what he was doing, he would wake up and never find his way back to this place again.
He kissed her as if he wanted to drink her in, to keep her inside him, keep her safe.
He let go of her lips for a moment to cover the sweet arch of her neck with his mouth.
“Danny,” she said.
She didn’t say it in a good way.
He moved back up to her lips quickly to stop her from saying more, to stop her from thinking, but it was too late. She was already pushing him away.
She got up fast, straightened her clothes on the way to the door.
“It’s not right,” she said without looking at him. “We can’t do this again.”
And then she walked out, leaving him flat on his back in her bed, with an empty hole in the middle of his chest.
“Wow.”
Had he just said, Wow? Damn. Danny clamped his mouth shut. He didn’t use the word often, but the Colonel’s underground command center warranted it.
“It’s a war room.” He took in the computerized maps in the middle. Rows and rows of computer screens lined one full wall.
“What’s this for? In case anyone takes the Pentagon out? Looks like you could run the country from here.”
“Not the whole country.” The Colonel shrugged modestly. “But it’s useful to have around. All lines are one-hundred-percent secure. In case we ever suspected a leak somewhere, this could come in handy. Very few people know about it.”
“So what do you do here?”
“Keep unauthorized surveillance records among other things. Every report that comes into my office gets copied to here as a backup. This pretty little thing—” He tapped the top of a computer affectionately. “Runs some mighty fancy logistics. It’ll pick up on things the human mind would never connect.”
“Kaye ever been down here?”
“Not beyond the dungeons. I showed her that and she hasn’t shown any inclination since for a return trip.”
Danny nodded. He couldn’t blame her. The “dungeons,” underground treatment rooms that looked more like torture chambers, were the first things to greet anyone who entered the subterranean level of the building. Dirty and dark with flickering lights and scary-looking equipment, water dripping from rusty pipes. All of it was original according to the Colonel, being used now as a clever disguise for the hidden door that opened to his personal war room.
The man pushed a couple of buttons and a report scrolled onto one of the nearby screens. Dates and events.
“Surveillance on Congressman Brown.”
“You can probably stop that,” Danny said, still uncomfortable with the topic. “I had a talk with him.”
“You interrogated another esteemed member of Congress?”
“I needed to know what I needed to know.”
“If I’m going to have to take heat over this—”
“You won’t.”
The Colonel dropped into a leather chair and motioned for him to do the same. “Was he in with the Brotherhood, too?”
“No. His business was all personal.”
“What personal business does he have with my goddaughter? Am I going to have to go over and pay him a visit?” His voice was hard and so was his face.
A good reminder that he was not a man to cross, and that he was fiercely protective of Kaye.
Danny drew a deep breath and told him the highlights of the story.
The Colonel had that hard look about him again by the time the tale was done. “You told her?”
He nodded.
“She had a right to know,” the Colonel said after a while. “But it’s probably the last thing she needed to hear right now.”
Something beeped and the Colonel stood, went over to another terminal and punched up another set of reports. “Whatever is going on between the two of you, I don’t want her to come out of it hurt,” he said over his shoulder.
Oh, hell. Here it came. Danny opened his mouth, but the Colonel caught him off with a hand gesture.
“See that wall of monitors? Every square inch of this building is covered by pinpoint cameras. They’re set on motion sensors.”
“The guest rooms?” His voice came out embarrassingly weak.
“Everything.”
Oh, man. The Colonel had seen him grope his goddaughter. Maybe he hadn’t brought him to the “dungeons” just to show him the war room. The place seemed a lot more sinister all of a sudden. Some of the nasty machinery they’d passed on the way in popped into his mind.
“I …ocare for her.” Had he said that?
The Colonel turned. “You think?”
“I know.”
“If you hurt her in any way—”
“I won’t.”
The man turned back to the console. “I’m sending you two to California tomorrow. You’ve both seen several men from the Brotherhood. Between the two of you, you might be able to ID someone.”
Danny nodded, having expected something like this. The choppers the Colonel had sent in after Kaye and he were rescued had cleaned up the camp, but at least a dozen of the men were missing, had disappeared into the woods without a trace.
“I could go alone.” He had quite a few faces etched into his memory.
“She wants to go.”
He understood perfectly. And since her going meant they’d be together for another day or two, he didn’t fight the idea. She’d be safe enough at the Secret Service command center.
“You’ll be working with the president’s detail, watching from a safe location through video feed,” the Colonel said, confirming Danny’s expectations.
“I guess the president is not canceling the Summit.”
“This president?” The Colonel glanced back and gave him a look.
“Right.” President Derickson was one tough son of a bitch who didn’t back down from anyone. He wouldn’t alter his schedule based on a terrorist threat. He would expect his people to handle it. “That’s what the Secret Service is for.” He nodded.
From what he knew, Derickson got death threats almost on a daily basis—plenty of nutcases out there who got off by calling in. All were investigated; anything that proved to be a real threat was taken care of. Little of it was allowed to influence the president’s schedule.
“When are we leaving?” He glanced at a printer that had started up all by itself and was now spitting out some kind of report.
“First thing in the morning. Oh-six-hundred hours.” The Colonel glanced at the first page of the report, then looked up. “You bring her back to me safe.”
He pinned Danny with a gaze that was as serious as he’d ever seen the man. “I won’t be around,” he added. “Kaye thinks I’m going to a golf resort in England with some old friends, but … There’s a situation. The Homeland Security Secretary asked that I lead the team personally. Things are bad.”
They had to be, Danny thought. The whole world had to be on the brink of di
saster for the Colonel to leave Kaye at a time like this. He’d seen them together enough now to know that. And he would have lied if he said it didn’t feel good that the Colonel would entrust her safety to him.
He would not fail either of them.
Chapter Nine
Kaye lay in bed and listened to the noises of the night. Considering the age of the place, it was surprisingly silent. The walls were made of stone, the floors all tiled, none of the creaking of wood floors and wood houses. Only the odd water pipe gurgled now and then, and the radiators rattled on occasion.
On the whole, the night was peaceful.
She wasn’t.
Tomorrow she was going to try to stop a domestic terrorist attack on two presidents. The idea seemed insane.
She got up and walked over to the window, looked out at the moonlit garden, at the giant oaks bathed in silver. Too much was happening all at once. If she was elected to be Speaker should she accept it? Would it make her a target for the rest of her life? Cal would have been a good person to talk everything over with, but she was wishing for Danny’s company.
He was probably asleep. She couldn’t just waltz into his room this time of the night. She moved toward her bed, but then changed her mind and ended up in the bathroom instead.
They’d had a fun evening—incredibly normal. An excellent dinner followed by a few rounds of pool, which she’d lost miserably. Cal had entertained them with some anecdotes from his early years. They had laughed. Both men were as relaxed as she’d ever seen them, and even though she knew they were probably putting it all on for her benefit—she had noticed the hour they’d disappeared into the basement—she had forgotten about everything else for a while.
But the night was at its darkest now, the time when the darkest of thoughts came out, too. And all of a sudden she was unsure and maybe even a little scared. This went beyond what she’d had to face daily on the Hill. This was no policy drafting, no ideas on paper to be discussed. Lives were at stake, important lives, and she was in the middle of it all.
She tapped on the wall that separated her from Danny’s room, waited, then tapped again.
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