by Cynthia Eden
Not stand there, still as stone.
He wants me, doesn’t he?
Her tongue slid lightly over his lower lip. Her hips pushed closer against his. Oh, yes, she could feel his arousal. But he wasn’t touching her, wasn’t kissing her back.
“Cale?” She pulled back just a few inches in order to stare up at him.
“I’m trying to do the right thing,” he said, voice gravel-rough in the dark.
Her hero. She smiled. “Can’t we forget about right, just for a little while? I want to forget everything—right and wrong—and just be with you.” Cassidy kissed him again. His lips had parted, and she dipped her tongue inside that sexy crease.
He growled. The sound rough with desire.
She liked that.
“Don’t you want to be with me?” Cassidy asked softly.
Then the room was spinning. No, Cale had just lifted her up, and he was carrying her—holding her so gently—back to the bedroom. He moved quickly, and her heart raced even faster.
He put her on the bed. The mattress dipped beneath their weight. She immediately tried to reach for him.
“No.”
The harsh command stopped her. She glared at him in the darkness. Touching him was one of the things she liked the best.
“Sweetheart, if you touch me, I’ll go wild.”
She was okay with wild. More than okay.
“I have to stay in control. I can’t hurt you.”
Still playing hero. But she thought that was sexy, too.
He spread her arms out on the covers. “Don’t move them. Not so much as an inch.”
She wasn’t about to make a promise that she couldn’t keep. Her fingers were already itching to caress him.
But he was caressing her. He’d bent his head, and his mouth—warm, wet—opened over her breast. He licked her. Sucked the flesh, and Cassidy almost came up off the bed.
His hand was on her stomach, sliding lower and lower until he found the heat between her thighs.
He kept licking and kissing her breast even as his fingers stroked the center of her need.
Cassidy tried not to move—she truly did, at first—but her fingers slid away from the covers. She reached for him.
“Remember the rules, Cassidy.” His head had lifted. His fingers pressed her wrists back against the covers. “You don’t get to move.”
“You were hurt, too.” She’d seen the bruises on him. The cuts.
“And you’re the one that matters more.”
Wait, what? That didn’t even make any—
His mouth was on her other breast. When he licked her nipple, she could feel the rush of sensual fire go straight to her core. Her hips jerked from the bed, pushing against his. He still had on his jeans, and the rough friction of that fabric was driving her wild.
The man always kept his clothes on too long. Those clothes needed to be on the floor. Cassidy wanted to feel all of him, flesh to flesh.
He was giving her so much pleasure, stroking her with those maddening touches. Using his mouth, those slightly rough fingertips in caresses that were so gentle. Too light.
She didn’t need gentle. She just needed him.
“Cale!” The whip of demand had entered her voice.
He eased away from her, ditched his clothes. When he came back to her, the heat from his flesh seemed to scorch her, and it was exactly what she wanted.
Craved.
Their mouths met. She kissed with the frantic need that had built inside her. Let him taste her hunger and desire.
His mouth was harder. More demanding on hers, even as his hands carefully pushed her thighs apart.
So much care...
Then he was between her legs. The heavy ridge of his arousal pressed against her.
She arched toward him.
He thrust into her.
Her nails dug into the covers. Pleasure hit her, cresting over her almost instantly as he withdrew and thrust deeper. Again and again, and she was lost. She gasped out his name and let the release sweep over her.
The thunder of her heartbeat filled her ears, wild and drumming. And Cale was there surrounding her, holding her. Kissing and stroking and making the desire build again. Always, again.
The second time the release hit her, he roared his pleasure, too. Cale stiffened over her, then drove inside her, even deeper than before.
This time, the pleasure wasn’t sharp. It was long and consuming. Ripping away the brittle facade that had surrounded her and leaving her feeling exposed, empty—
And very, very much...his.
* * *
“IT’S TIME TO go, Cassidy.”
She smiled at his voice, loving that deep rumble of sound, but Cassidy didn’t open her eyes.
She was in the middle of a really good dream. She and Cale were in a meadow. The sun was shining down on them. They were walking. He had her hand cradled in his.
There was no fear.
No danger.
Just life.
“Sweetheart, we have to go. The car’s waiting for us.”
His voice was louder now, breaking through the dream. The peace she’d known an instant before began to slip away.
Her eyes opened. Cale stood beside the bed, fully dressed. His expression was carefully guarded, almost blank.
Where was the heat that had blazed before in his eyes? So much passion. A desperate need.
That sensual pleasure hadn’t been a dream.
Sweet reality.
“I should have woken you sooner.” Now his voice seemed almost hesitant. “But you just looked so...peaceful.”
She hadn’t exactly enjoyed a lot of peace in her life.
“But we have to hurry. The car’s outside.”
Right. They were leaving. He was taking her home.
I want to have a home. A real one.
Could Cale give that to her? Did he even know what she wanted from him? Why?
Swallowing, Cassidy turned away from him. Five minutes later, with her hair combed, her teeth brushed and clad in the clothes he’d prepared for her, she was ready to go.
He stayed close while they hurried from the building. Dawn had just come, and streaks of sunlight slid across the D.C. skyline. Gunner was by the vehicle. So was Logan. She glanced to the left and caught sight of—
A flash of red hair.
Cassidy froze.
“Cassidy? What is it?” Cale’s hold tightened on her.
Cassidy glanced back at the alley. “Genevieve.”
A frown pulled his brows low. “The agents are still searching for her. They’ll find—”
“I just saw her.” The words were pulled from a throat that suddenly seemed dry. What was happening to her? Was she seeing ghosts? Seeing what I want to see?
“Where?” Cale demanded.
She pointed to the alley.
Cale didn’t head toward the alley. Instead he guided her to the vehicle. “Make sure she stays inside,” he told Gunner.
“What’s happening?” Gunner demanded.
“I—I saw...” Wait, had she seen her? Cassidy wasn’t sure, not anymore. She rubbed temples that ached. “I thought that I saw Genevieve in the alley.”
Gunner shook his head. “I cleared that alley. No one is there.”
He sounded so certain, but she’d been certain a moment ago, too.
“I’ll be right back.” Cale pulled his weapon and headed into the alley.
Gunner closed the car door, sealing her inside the vehicle.
Cassidy waited, barely breathing, as the seconds slowly ticked past. Then Cale was back, striding toward the car. His face grim.
He climbed into the vehicle. “No one was there.”
Maybe...maybe she’d just wanted Genevieve to be there. Wanted so badly that she’d made herself see a ghost?
The car slowly pulled away from the curb. Helpless to stop herself, Cassidy glanced back.
No one was there.
The car slid easily through the empty streets. Cassidy swal
lowed, trying to ease the sudden dryness of her throat. “Did you...did anyone find Genevieve’s body?” She hated to think of her friend that way. Broken. Lost.
Cale shook his head.
“Maybe he lied to me.” Killers lied, right? That was what they did. Lied, killed.
Cale’s fingers caressed her arm. “Maybe he did. Agents will keep searching for her. They won’t give up.”
Maybe they wouldn’t, but... “But I’m giving up. If I’m just running away with you, I’m giving up on her.” She couldn’t do that. It wasn’t right.
“No, you’re staying alive.” His voice had hardened. They were in the back of the vehicle. Gunner and Logan were up front. The other agents would be able to easily hear every word that they said. “That’s what you have to do.”
“What if she’s in this city?”
Cale shook his head. “What are you going to do? Search every street? Every house? Every building?”
If she had to, maybe. “I can’t...I can’t do it, Cale.” She wanted to, so much, but running—enough.
“What can’t you do?” He’d leaned toward her.
She dropped her voice to a whisper. “I want to go with you. I want to get on that plane and go home with you. I want to pretend that we’re starting some kind of life together, far away from Mercer and everyone else.” She licked her lips. “But I can’t.” Then, voice louder, she focused on the men in the front. “Take us to the EOD headquarters.”
Logan didn’t even slow down. And he didn’t turn around.
“Logan.” She snapped out his name. “Take us back.”
They eased under a row of bright streetlights—still on because the light of the day wasn’t heavy or clear yet—and, in the rearview mirror, she saw Logan’s gaze shift toward Cale.
“It’s not his choice,” Cassidy said, lifting her chin. “It’s mine. And I’m not running.”
“Are you dying?” Gunner wanted to know as he glanced back at her. “Because that’s what almost happened to you.”
Yes, she had almost died, and Cale—no, all of those men—had risked their lives for her.
For her secret.
She opened her mouth and said, “I’m Mercer’s daughter.”
Wait, had she meant to say that?
Yes.
The silence in the car was heavy. She could feel Cale’s gaze boring into her.
“Thank you for all that you’ve done to protect me,” she said, her voice sounding too calm even to her own ears. “But the threats to me won’t ever end. They can’t. And as much as I want to just run away, to be with Cale...” Her chest was aching. “I can’t. I can’t leave Genevieve.” If there was a chance that her friend was alive, then she had to keep searching for her.
And if Genevieve was dead... I need to find her body. I can’t leave her out there, all alone.
Gunner was still staring at her. “I know who you are.”
“Me, too,” came from Logan as the car accelerated.
Cassidy blinked. Well. So much for her big reveal.
“Syd can uncover anything with her computers.” Gunner shrugged. “She didn’t want me walking in blind in that park, so she made sure I knew.”
Cassidy had laid out the puzzle pieces for her. Because I wanted her to tell him.
“And you told Logan,” Cale muttered to Gunner.
A slow nod from the sniper. “We figured you already knew, seeing how...close...you’d gotten with Cassidy here.”
She was grateful for the dark because it hid the heat that stained her cheeks. She and Cale had definitely gotten close.
“I don’t see how you being Mercer’s daughter changes anything. You and Cale have a plane waiting on you.”
They weren’t listening to her. “Genevieve could be alive.”
Cale’s hold tightened on her. “You didn’t see her in that alley.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Logan said contemplatively.
“What?” Cale’s head jerked toward him.
“A few minutes after we left the safe house, a car started tailing us. Someone was outside of that place, watching us.” His fingers drummed lightly on the steering wheel. “They’re staying back, keeping their headlights off, but I still made them.”
She immediately spun around, but Cassidy couldn’t see anyone following. “Are you sure?”
A rough laugh. “Trust me. I know when I’m being followed.”
He would.
“And I know when— Hell!” Logan slammed on the brakes, but it did no good because another car barreled right toward them. A big dark SUV that slammed straight into their vehicle. They collided with a crush of metal and the sickening crunch of glass. Cassidy didn’t even have the breath to scream as she was thrown forward.
Chapter Eleven
The seat belt cut into Cale’s shoulder. Swearing, he yanked it away and reached for Cassidy. “Sweetheart?”
She was pulling on her own seat belt—the belt had jerked her back against her seat. “I’m okay.”
“Logan? Gunner?” He snapped out their names.
“My legs are pinned,” Gunner growled. “And Logan—”
“Has a gun to his head.” A cold, deadly voice floated through the car. A man’s voice. A voice Cale had never heard before. He pushed forward to see if the man was bluffing. When he moved, he caught sight of a gun pressed right to Logan’s temple. The window on Logan’s side had shattered during the crash—or else the guy with the gun had shattered it—and now the man had easy access to the interior of the vehicle.
“Unlock the back doors,” that cold voice ordered Logan. “Or I’ll put a hole in your head right now and unlock them myself.”
Cale pulled his own weapon. When those doors were unlocked, he knew exactly what would happen.
He also knew that Logan wouldn’t unlock them. Logan was the team leader. He would never sacrifice his team. Even if he had to risk his own life in order to protect them.
“Why don’t you get the hell away from me?” Logan invited roughly.
Cale dived for Cassidy, covering her with his body because he could already see Logan moving. Logan’s hand whipped up, and the crunch of bones—no doubt the gunman’s wrist shattering—filled the car even as a bullet erupted from the weapon.
The bullet flew over the driver’s seat, narrowly missing Cale.
The sounds of a struggle came from the front of the vehicle. Cale couldn’t help from his current position, so he jumped away from Cassidy, heaved open the back door and—
Genevieve was standing before him. Only she wasn’t alone. Another gunman. Another weapon. Only this gun was pressed under her chin.
“Come on, hero,” the man—his face covered by a ski mask—said. These thugs sure liked their masks. “Take another step, and she’s dead.”
Cale didn’t move. Not yet. But he planned.
Then Cassidy jumped from the car behind him.
“Cassidy!” Genevieve cried frantically. The woman tried to leap toward her, but the masked man tightened his hold, and Genevieve froze.
The thud of flesh hitting flesh echoed behind them, and in the next moment, Logan was rushing to Cale’s side. Cale had known the team leader could handle himself in that fight.
My money is always on Logan.
Now they just had to dispatch this bozo.
“I will kill her right now,” the man swore. “I will shoot her while you watch!”
“Then what?” Cale demanded. “We kill you? That’s your big exit plan? Death?”
But another vehicle was rushing up behind the armed man, and the guy wasn’t even looking over his shoulder.
Since he didn’t seem surprised or upset by the speeding car’s arrival, Cale knew it could only mean one thing....His backup.
“No, I have another exit plan.” The faintest of French accents tinged the man’s voice.
The Executioner had been French.
So was Genevieve.
Cale lifted his weapon and aimed at the gunman. “You aren�
��t leaving with her.”
“A sniper has you in his sights right now, Mr. Lane.”
Was he supposed to be impressed because the guy knew his name?
“If you don’t lower your weapon, you’ll be dead within the next five seconds.”
Bull. He knew better than to believe a line like that.
“Surely you do not think you’re the only one who has a sniper on his team?” The gunman shook his head. “Tell them, Genevieve.”
“I—I...it’s true!” Her voice was high and desperate. “They’ve been watching you, all of you!”
“We picked this spot. We sprang our trap.” The gun dug into Genevieve’s chin. “Now we want our prize.”
Too bad for them. Cale took a step forward. Cassidy was behind him. He was afraid the woman might try to lunge in front of him and save her friend. He couldn’t have that. He couldn’t risk Cassidy, not when the end was finally in sight.
His gaze slid toward Logan as he tried to get a read on the other agent’s thoughts.
A sniper? If there was a sniper out there, then the best spot for him would be the building on the right. A sniper would have a good position up on the third floor.
But the sniper wouldn’t be able to take out both him and Logan. If the sniper was even real.
I’ve heard better bluffs before.
Cale straightened his shoulders. “It’s okay, Genevieve. You’re going to be fine.”
The sun was starting to rise higher. He could see the desperate hope so clearly on Genevieve’s face. Hope, but no bruises, no other injuries at all from what he could make out.
Just that wild hope.
“You’ll drop your gun?” she whispered.
Cassidy had crept closer to Cale.
Trust me.
He sure hoped that she did.
“This is how it works,” the gunman shouted. “You send me the pretty blonde. She gets in that car.”
The vehicle had screeched to a stop.
Cale shook his head. “That’s not happening.” He was adamant.
If Cassidy got in that car, she was dead.
Not going to happen.
Cassidy’s fingers pressed against Cale’s back.
“You don’t make the rules!” the man shrieked, his accent becoming more pronounced. “You don’t tell me—”