by Devyn Quinn
Swallowing hard, she stepped back. “Sure is.”
Blake Whittaker breezed past her, carrying the groceries to the counter. “Sorry you woke up to an empty fridge, folks,” he said, pulling out a big can of coffee, followed by a small bag of sugar and half-and-half. “I just grabbed the basics from the BX. Later you can go for your own supplies.”
Tessa snatched the coffee and popped the lid. She took a deep sniff of the aroma of pure Colombian coffee. “I needed this,” she said, adding a few heaping spoonfuls into the coffeemaker before pouring in the water.
Kenneth crossed his arms, a suspicious look playing across his face. With his hair sticking up at all angles, he looked like an angry rooster. “Well, aren’t you just Johnny on the spot? I suppose we’re going to be seeing a lot of your face around here.”
Dressed in one of his immaculately pressed suits, Blake Whittaker dodged the lethal frown. “Yes, you will.” His shoulders rolled in a casual shrug. “Guess you’d better get used to it,” he said.
Kenneth cut the agent a sharp look. “I know part of your job is to spy on us.” He smiled, but it was a cold, hard smile. “That’s a given. But I’d like to know where it’s written in your job description about having sex with my sister-in-law.”
Gwen gasped, feeling the contact of his words like the blast of a mortar. A ripple of uneasiness spread through her. “Really, Kenneth, I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
Whittaker refused to take the bait. “Anything you want to know, you can ask Gwen,” was all he said. “I won’t discuss it.”
Kenneth barely spared Whittaker a glance before homing in on her. “If he’s taking advantage of you to get to us, Gwen, it is my business.” He pointed a finger toward the agent. “I don’t care what you think your job is, Whittaker. If you hurt her, you’ll answer to me.”
Seeing the anger in her brother-in-law’s face, another ripple of uneasiness went through Gwen. His reaction shouldn’t have startled her. She should have known she’d be dragging her family into the mix when she’d taken Blake into her bed.
I’ve made a mistake, came her panicked thought. There was only one way to make things right.
Stay as far away from Blake Whittaker as possible.
Chapter 15
Later that day, Gwen barely gave Blake a second glance as she slid into the seat on the passenger’s side. Since his little dustup with Kenneth, she’d given him the cold shoulder, replying only when spoken to and staying close to her family.
Walking around to the driver’s side of the car, he couldn’t blame her. While he’d been ordered to get close to her, seduce her, he hadn’t planned for the dirty deed to happen just last night. He’d planned to take a little time, work his way into her confidence. Instead he’d steamrolled in and taken her straight to bed.
Oh, yeah. He’d also taken her virginity.
Casanova you are not, he thought as he pulled the door shut and snapped the seat belt into place. After enduring a very uncomfortable breakfast, the day’s agenda had been revealed with a call from Director Thompson. They were on their way across the compound where the hostile Mer were being held in quarantine. Now that the women had been disarmed, his superiors wanted to question them. Any answers they offered might help speed the hunt for the remaining fugitives.
Blake glanced toward Gwen. He’d deliberately maneuvered the travel arrangements so that they could have a few minutes alone to talk.
Hands neatly folded in her lap, Gwen stared out the window. It looked like he was going to be ignored for the rest of the day.
He sighed, turning the key and starting the engine. Pulling away from the curb, he guided the big sedan toward the facilities housing the hostile Mer.
Maybe it would just be better to say nothing. Pretend it hadn’t happened. Although he knew what Frances Fletcher expected, he’d found the idea of seduction to pry out information distasteful. When he wrote up his report later today, it would not include the fact that he’d slept with Gwen. That was none of the government’s business. What had happened between them wasn’t anything that would bring the country to its knees if revealed. They’d made love and it was a private matter. Period.
Somehow he had to make Gwen understand that his desire hadn’t been faked. He’d reacted with all the instincts of a man excited by the idea of having a woman he craved.
He cleared his throat, preparing to speak. “I’d like to clear up a few things about last night.”
Gwen gave a slight shake of her head. “Let’s not talk about it,” she said, keeping her voice low and neutral. “As far as I’m concerned, it never happened.”
Blake’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Because you feel I took advantage of you?”
A long silence lingered between them.
Gwen finally shook her head. “No, I don’t think you took advantage.” She inhaled a deep breath and her breasts rose beneath the soft peach fabric of her blouse, kicking off all kinds of erotic images in his mind. “I was willing. I wanted it to happen. But I should have thought about the consequences. It’s like Kenneth said. Everything you see and hear, you’re going to write down. Nothing that happens between us will be private.”
Fighting to keep his head clear, Blake nodded. “To an extent, that’s true. I do work for the government.”
Gwen said nothing, just looked at him impassively with her beautiful, long-lashed green eyes.
“So you’re going to give me the silent treatment from now on?” he inquired.
Folding her arms across her chest, she stared at him. She was beautiful, even when suspicious, and the only thing he wanted to do was pull her close and kiss her crazy. “I’m waiting for you to whip out your recorder so you can capture the conversation.”
Blake immediately put his foot on the brake. The car slammed to a halt. “Let’s cut the bullshit, shall we? I slept with you last night because I wanted to. Not because I was ordered to.”
It was a lie. But it also wasn’t. Even though Frances Fletcher had tacitly suggested that he get close to Gwen, she’d also told him that it would be his own decision as to how far he pursued the matter.
The tension surrounding her eased. “Really?” she finally asked.
Blake nodded. “The spies in movies might tumble into bed with the pretty woman to find out all her secrets, but that’s not the way I work,” he said. “There’s a certain place where I draw the line. My body isn’t for sale.” What had happened between them wasn’t anything he’d let be exploited. Gwen deserved better than that.
So did he.
She seemed to be mulling his words and she wasn’t smiling.
“That’s nice of you to tell me and I thank you for your honesty. Last night was good—”
His brows rose. “Only good?”
Her green eyes sparked, showing a bit of the animation that had attracted him to begin with. “More like magical,” she admitted and a flush began to creep into her face.
Blake nodded. He didn’t dare to smile even though that was what he felt like doing. “Magical’s good.”
Gwen blushed. Really blushed. A rosy glow suffused her high cheekbones with wonderful color. “It was everything I imagined my first time would be like.” She made a quick face. “Well, except the, you know, accident.”
“I wish I had known.”
Anxiety creased her smooth forehead. “If you had, would you have gone ahead?”
“You want the whole truth?”
Biting her bottom lip, she nodded. “Yes. I do.”
Her question had put him between a rock and a hard place, but now wasn’t the time to begin lying to cover his own ass. An attraction had simmered between them from the beginning. It was one he wanted to follow through on despite the bizarre circumstances that had brought them together.
But if she was going to trust him, really trust him, he’d have to tell her the absolute truth. That way he could still satisfy the requirements of his job without betraying her trust. It would be a delicate b
alancing act to manage, but with a little finesse and luck he could pull it off.
Blake reached for her hand. Her flesh felt warm and firm underneath his palm. The connection between them was so strong he could practically feel the sparks. Her body heat seemed to enter straight into his veins, spreading like molten lava. “Had I known, I would have done things a lot differently,” he admitted.
Gwen didn’t look as if she liked the sound of that, but she nodded. She swallowed hard and moistened her lips. “Oh?”
Blake reached up, stroking a strand of hair away from her face. “I would have tried to make it more special, you know? Been a little more gentle with you.”
Anxiety creased Gwen’s smooth forehead. For a brief moment her fingers tightened around his. “It was good.” She gave him an apologetic look before gently slipping her hand out of his. “But I don’t think it’s anything that should happen again. As much as we might want it, we’re really on different sides of the fence. I’ve got to protect myself.” She pulled a deep breath. “And I’ve got to protect my family.”
He nodded. “I understand.”
Gwen’s throat worked briefly. “Thanks.” She turned her head toward the window, cutting him out of her view. “Guess we should go.”
There. Just like that she’d cut him off. He was trying to be cool; however, a part of him was fuming at her reaction. But in a way it was almost a relief. He wouldn’t have to lie to his superiors when he reported no progress. He could do so with a clear conscience. It was easier to do the job when his loyalty wasn’t divided.
Blake shifted the car back into gear. “Don’t want the others to think we got lost.”
It took them a few minutes to catch up with the rest of the group, partly due to the fact he was unfamiliar with the massive compound. The building housing prisoners was low and nondescript, marked only a by a sign with DETENTION stenciled across its face.
Tessa, Kenneth, and Addison all waited in the main foyer with accompanying agents. All three shot Blake a suspicious look as they hurried to catch up, but said nothing. Putting Gwen between them, the sisters made sure Blake couldn’t get anywhere near her.
They’re going to cut me off at the pass, he told himself. In a way he didn’t like the thought of that. He’d enjoyed his time with Gwen last night, and would like to spend more time with her. Not necessarily in bed, either.
Kenneth looked around sharply, his eyes questioning. “Explain to me what we’re supposed to be doing,” he demanded again as they followed an agent down a long narrow passage.
“We’d like for Tessa to talk to the Mer women, see if they have any information that can help us find the rest of the fugitives.”
“That makes sense,” he grunted.
Blake resisted a smile. “We’d like to think so.”
The agent in front led them into a large area outfitted with a two-way mirror in the wall. Through the mirror, everyone could see a table and a couple of chairs sitting inside an adjoining room. For the moment it was empty.
Dennis Thompson ambled up to them. “They aren’t being very cooperative.”
“I doubt you’d get anything out of them since they hate humans,” Tessa commented.
Thompson blanched. “Yes, we’ve figured out we’re not anyone they want to deal with. We’re doing our best to accommodate them with reasonable comfort, but they’ve refused all food offered. I’m afraid they’re on a hunger strike of some kind.”
“What have you offered them?” Addison asked.
Thompson shrugged. “We’ve tried a variety of normal foods, along with fruits, vegetables, and even seafood. Both raw and uncooked.”
Tessa shook her head. “They don’t eat with their mouths,” she informed the director. “In their world, they’ve moved beyond physical needs. They draw the energy they need to feed their bodies from crystals. In a sense it makes them immortal.”
Thompson’s eyes widened. “Is that even possible?”
Tessa nodded. “Unfortunately it is. But it comes at a price. Their search to lengthen their life spans meant they had to drain the life out of Ishaldi.”
Thompson offered a crooked smile. By the look on his face, the newly discovered species was turning out to be a lot more complicated than he’d bargained on. “Amazing. So if we give them stones—crystals—they will be able to feed themselves?”
“Yes. And since they have no soul-stones, they can’t manifest the energy they draw in outside their own bodies.”
Thompson’s eyes gravitated to the simple pendant hanging around Tessa’s neck. “But you can?”
All three of the Lonike sister raised their hands toward their necklaces. “Yes,” Tessa answered.
Addison narrowed her eyes. “And the only reason we haven’t blasted your asses to pieces is because we’re peaceful Mer.”
Gwen elbowed her younger sister in the side. “Addison, please. That’s not the way it works.” She directed a beaming smile toward the director. “We don’t blast anyone with our Mercraft. To use the D’ema is strictly forbidden.”
Blake shifted uncomfortably in his place. He dimly recalled hearing this word the day they’d been attacked on Little Mer. Death magic, he remembered Tessa explaining. As if in response, his injured arm gave him a little reminder twinge. He’d had a firsthand glimpse of what the Mer could do with those crystals, and he didn’t want to be on the receiving end a second time.
Director Thompson had the good sense not to hit the panic button. “I’m taking you at your word that you’ll be on your best behavior,” he told the women. His gaze narrowed, sharpened. “At this time we want our relationship with the Mer people to remain friendly and peaceful.”
Giving Addison a surreptitious pinch, Gwen stepped up to take the lead. “And we’re absolutely committed to prove that we are not a threat—not now or in future times. Whatever you need us to do, we’re willing.”
Kenneth stepped up and interrupted her. “To a point,” he said, wrapping one protective arm around his wife’s slender waist. “My wife and her sisters may be willing to cooperate, but keep in mind there are limits. And I’m certainly not bending over and spreading my ass cheeks so you guys can look up my butt.”
Director Thompson frowned at him. “I’ll certainly keep that in mind.”
“You do that,” Kenneth snapped back. “I seem to recall the constitution saying something about life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”
Gwen mentally held her breath. If things kept going the way they were, human-Mer relations would soon deteriorate to the point of no return. Thanks to Queen Magaera’s soldiers, her entire species was skating on thin ice. Their invasion of Little Mer had been committed with hostile intent. They’d come prepared to kill anyone who stood in their way of recovering Tessa. Had things gone their way that day, Lucky might not have been the only casualty. There was no doubt in her mind everyone around Tessa would have faced immediate extermination.
Thompson gave him a sour smile. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with national security,” he reminded, “you’re in the clear.”
“We’re not a threat,” Gwen reiterated.
Addison glanced toward the two-way mirror. “They’re bringing one in,” she announced.
Gwen tried not to wince as one of the Mer women who’d attacked them was led into the room. Gone was the tight-fitting fish-leather suit, replaced now with a plain green jumpsuit with PRISONER stenciled across the front in large yellow lettering. Hands in cuffs, the woman was barefoot. Despite her captivity, a look of hate mingling with defiance lingered in her narrow eyes.
Gwen clenched a hand at her side in an attempt to keep herself calm. An unsettling thought wiggled through her brain. That could be one of us. The few days she’d spent in restraints were enough for her. She never wanted to be that helpless again.
“This is the one you identified as Doma Chiara, correct?” Thompson asked.
Clearly shocked by the change in the woman, Tessa nodded. “That’s what I knew her by, in Ishald
i.”
“If you don’t mind, we’d like you to attempt to communicate with her,” Blake Whittaker said. “Anything you could get her to say might be helpful.”
Tessa nodded. “I understand.”
One of the agents opened a door leading into the interrogation room. “If you’ll come this way.”
Tessa slipped out of Kenneth’s embrace. “Stay here, babe,” she said.
Gwen stepped up. “I’m coming with you,” she said, speaking in a voice far stronger than how she felt inside.
Blake gave his superior a look. “Okay?”
Thompson waved them on. “She’s restrained. I think we have her under control.”
Nodding, Whittaker escorted them into the small chamber.
Doma Chiara eyed them with a combination of suspicion and hostility.
Gwen forced herself not to flinch, staring back at this creature that was, for all intents and purposes, totally alien from herself. Despite the fact that Chiara was handcuffed, she still didn’t trust the woman.
Tessa took a seat opposite Chiara and the agent guarding the prisoner. Blake Whittaker stood at the end of the table. That left Gwen to hover behind Tessa.
Chiara’s eyes narrowed in recognition at Gwen, clearly remembering the psychic fight they’d had a few days ago. A low growl of disgust broke from her throat.
Tessa glanced to Whittaker. “What do I say?”
Whittaker thought a moment. “Ask her if she feels she is being well treated?”
Tessa relayed the question.
No answer.
“Try speaking to her in our language,” Gwen prompted. “She doesn’t have a soul-stone to help her read the psychic vibrations, and her grasp of English probably isn’t that solid yet.”
Tessa nodded. “Good point.” She asked the question again, this time speaking in the Mer tongue.
The words sounded odd to Gwen’s ears, probably because it had been so long since she’s heard it spoken. When they were smaller, their mother had often communicated in the lyrical language. The girls had picked up bits and pieces, enough that they could talk amongst themselves as long as the conversation remained simple.