The Renegade

by Rhonda Nelson

  She’d always lit him up.

  That had been part of the problem and no small part of the reason he’d broken up with her. In addition to those softer, weaker emotions he’d never liked feeling when he was around her—or hell, away from her for that matter—there’d always been a humming, undercurrent of almost-irresistible need between them, one that no amount of discipline could smother. He hadn’t just wanted her—he’d had to have her. As though being joined with her was the only place in the world he needed to be, the only place on the planet he could ever feel truly at peace. At rest. And considering the state of him right now, when he was getting precious little sleep and rest was a rare commodity…

  Damn.

  That’s why he’d ultimately broken things off between them. He’d needed her too much, had wanted her too much, depended on her too much for his own happiness. He’d craved her company beyond anything and it had absolutely terrified him. He’d had a reputation for being fearless even then, but the feelings she’d unwittingly engendered in him had put the fear of God into him, that was for sure. His gaze slid over the smooth slope of her cheek, the adorable upturned nose.

  Truth be told, he was rattled to the core even now and he would have thought—especially after what he’d seen outside Mosul—he was well past the point of having his cage shaken.

  “You’re right,” she said suddenly, surprising him. She shook her head and shot him a wan smile. “I’m being ridiculous. It’s late, we’re tired. I don’t know about you, but I just want to eat, shower and go to bed.”

  Tanner merely grunted. It sounded like an excellent plan to him. Shaking Ackerman hadn’t been too much of a challenge—he’d been Ranger, for God’s sake, one of the best trained soldiers in the world. The day he couldn’t evade a middle-aged reporter in a beat-up sedan was the day he ate his beret.

  Nevertheless, between constantly scoping out the rearview mirror and the ceaseless current of sexual awareness—one that seemed impossibly more potent than he remembered—he was pretty damned exhausted himself. Dinner, a hot shower—or more likely a cold one, he amended, taking a glance at Mia’s especially carnal mouth—and hitting a soft mattress sounded damned good indeed. Maybe he’d get a few solid hours of sleep before the inevitable nightmares started. His gaze slid to Mia.

  And that presented another problem. He’d have to tell her about them. As vaguely as possible, of course, but he couldn’t very well just forget to mention that at some point during the night, he’d sit bolt upright, screaming. He’d scare her to death.

  “Here’s your key,” the clerk said, handing him the small envelope, making a point to touch him in the process. Her voice was slightly breathless and the flirtatious look she was giving him was bad form considering he was checking in with another woman. He was flattered, of course, but come on. She was practically hitting on him right in front of Mia.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Mia expel an annoyed breath.

  For whatever reason, that telling little gesture made something in his chest expand with masculine pleasure.

  Continuing to act as though Mia didn’t exist, the clerk gave him brief instructions on how to find their room. She needn’t have bothered—he knew exactly where it was. He’d requested it, after all, when he’d made the reservation. Fidgeting, the clerk bit her lip and looked at him from beneath lowered lashes. “We don’t offer room service, but The Pancake Barn next door has a decent menu and will deliver for a small fee. Let me know if I can get anything for you.” She leaned forward, purposely accentuating her cleavage. “Anything at all.”

  “I’m good, thanks,” Tanner said, bemused at her behavior. “That was weird.”

  Mia shrugged, fatalistically. “That’s Moe.”

  He blinked, startled. Moe? “What?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Tanner. I know you’re a good-looking guy and you’re used to making minimal effort to attract a woman, but do you honestly think that woman would have been so blatant about wanting to hook up with you, especially with me standing there, if it wasn’t for Moe?” Moe? Moe? What did he have to do with this? Surely she didn’t mean— He felt his jaw drop. “You have got to be kidding me. You mean, you actually believe all that crap? All the hype surrounding that little statue?” He snugged his fingers into the small of her back and guided her through the lobby, past the potted palms and hospitality area, then down the hall, where their room would be the last on the right, nearest the exit.

  “Doesn’t matter what he’s made of,” she said matter-of-factly. “He works.”

  He couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe she, of all people, Ms. Logic, genuinely bought into this load of sh—

  She waited for him to fish the key out of the envelope and open the door. “You’re telling me you didn’t notice that guy coming on to me at the restaurant we stopped at in Harrisonburg? What? You think I always get that kind of attention?”

  As a matter of fact, he did. She was gorgeous. Why wouldn’t any guy trip over himself to get to her? And he had noticed the pimply-faced teen practically drooling all over her at Cracker Barrel. He’d just chalked it up to the fact that her mouth looked like it belonged under a street lamp and the clingy knit top she was wearing showcased a world-class pair of breasts. She was uncommonly hot, unassumingly beautiful and refreshingly ignorant of her own appeal.

  But Moe? Nah… He just didn’t buy it.

  Stale air and the scent of bathroom cleaner greeted them as he pushed open the door. Two double beds as promised, mounded with pillows and good linens, a nice desk with a good lamp and a decent flat-panel television. Generic floral paintings in bold colors hung behind the beds, the only nod to décor. The bathroom was nice, with granite countertops. A small coffeepot with all the proper accoutrements sat next to the usual array of hotel toiletries. It wasn’t the Ritz, but it would do.

  “And all those couples who were sitting around us?” she continued. “Didn’t you notice how they scooted their chairs closer together? How the conversation got more intimate and low? At a Cracker Barrel,” she emphasized with a significant widening of her eyes. And he had to admit, she had a good point.

  The country restaurant and store wasn’t exactly known for its romantic atmosphere. It offered good food at reasonable prices with an added perk of having a store attached. It was not the sort of place that offered cozy, quiet dining. Still, he just couldn’t make himself believe it, couldn’t bring himself to even imagine a world where a fertility statue would actually work. It was too far-fetched. Too far out of the realm of possibility.

  “Then there’s the kiss we had this afternoon,” she continued, plopping herself down on the end of the bed. “Do you really think either one of us would have gotten so carried away if it hadn’t been for Moe?”

  Okay, dammit. He was drawing the line right there. He set their luggage aside and shrugged out of the backpack, then chuckled darkly. “Oh, I don’t know. I seem to recall that we used to enjoy kissing each other a lot.”

  She flushed, but her gaze stayed steady. “True,” she conceded levelly. “But that was before you dumped me like yesterday’s garbage and avoided eye contact right up until the day we graduated. Then, of course, you went off to parts unknown.” She lay back and stretched her toes. “Believe me, Tanner, if it wasn’t for Moe, you wouldn’t have had such a welcome reception this morning, Ackerman or no Ackerman.”

  Great. So not only was Harlan the best lover she’d ever had, he had Moe to thank for her enthusiastic response to his kiss this morning.

  In other words, she was attracted to him because of Moe.

  How galling.

  Seemingly unaware of the blow she’d just delivered to his ego, she turned to him with a plaintive expression. “Do you mind if I use the shower first? I feel icky.”

  He shook his head and his gaze slid to the backpack. He began to genuinely dislike the little statue. “No, not at all. I need to boot up my laptop and check a few things.” All true, but he also needed to cool down. An
ymore of this conversation and he might just decide to rectify some of her false assumptions, beginning with a quick tumble onto the bed.

  With a grateful sigh, she gathered her toiletry bag, a gown and robe and disappeared into the bathroom. In an effort to focus on anything but thoughts of her naked body, Tanner withdrew his computer from its case and set to work, which was supposed to be his primary focus anyway.

  He had a job to do, dammit, and whether or not Mia’s interest in him stemmed from Moe or from true chemistry, that didn’t change. He needed to remember that.

  Thanks to the resources made available to him through Ranger Security, he knew that Ackerman had been booked onto the same flight as Mia. What had prompted the reporter to want to “follow” her to the airport? Tanner wondered. What had tipped him off to the fact that she wasn’t going to be on that plane? Or had he just been following a hunch? Somehow Tanner didn’t think so.

  Furthermore, though he’d noticed him at the museum, Ramirez had faded to black, as it were. Because he was wealthy enough to avoid commercial travel, Ramirez had his own private plane. It had been scheduled for departure from Reagan International this afternoon and a quick check confirmed that it had left on schedule. But was Ramirez aboard? Or had he found an alternate means of transportation, as well? One that would make him more of a threat than he already was.

  On the surface, this seemed like a fairly simple mission. Safely move Moe Dick and the museum liaison from Point A to Point B. But when one considered that Moe Dick had a wily reporter following his every move, a ruthless, wealthy treasure hunter who was determined to add the little statue to his collection and an old girl friend who still had the ability to set his loins on fire and kindle a more terrifying reaction in his heart, this became a quagmire of the first order.

  The box of condoms Jamie had tossed him peeked out from the corner of his laptop case, mocking him in the process.

  He suddenly realized why the former Rangers had been so concerned.

  He was screwed.

  CONFIDENT THAT TANNER HAD everything under control, Mia escaped to the bathroom to try and regain her composure a little. She carefully set her things on the vanity, taking care to leave some room for Tanner for his toiletries and stowed her too-short robe on a hook on the back of the door. The ritual didn’t completely calm her nerves, but it kept her hands busy and, at the moment, she needed to do something to keep them off the man on the other side of the door.

  Honestly, though she knew it could just be her imagination—and it probably was—she could have sworn she felt some sort of heat rising from the back pack. She’d been more aware of Moe and his enormous genitalia than she ever had been before and was convinced, more now than ever about his power. Every particle of her body had been hammeringly aware of Tanner today and, while she’d admit that her reaction wasn’t surprising, she’d never imagined that her awareness of him would be so strong, almost irresistible.

  She’d only been one pothole or speed bump away from an immaculate orgasm for most of the their journey, and they were only in Roanoke. They had many miles and many hours to go. There was no way in hell she was going to survive this without coming unglued.

  Or mentally unhinged.

  In light of that, Mia carefully disrobed, turned on the tap and adjusted the temperature to suit her purposes. The bathroom had a detachable massaging showerhead and Mia had never been more thankful for a modern convenience. She braced one foot against the side of the tub, hiking her leg, and aimed the hot pulsing spray at the area that needed the most attention.

  In mere seconds, the pressurized water had done the trick and she could feel a portion of the tension leaking out of her body. Not enough, of course—she needed some real, back-clawing, belly-shivering, toe-curling, mind-numbing sex for that—but, despite what her body wanted, it would have to do.

  In all fairness, she had a perfect excuse in Moe to take Tanner back into her bed. She could quite easily blame every bit of this miserable attraction on him. Tanner, though annoyed, would never be any the wiser. After all, she’d just set the stage for that, and she had to admit, seeing his slightly stricken expression had been quite gratifying. Mia had too much pride to tell him the truth—that, sexually, he’d always set the standard—and too much self-respect and self-preservation to simply let him waltz back into her life, or more accurately, into her body.

  He’d dumped her, she reminded herself. He’d broken her heart. She shouldn’t want him. She shouldn’t ache to ask him a million questions about his life. Had he ever married? Did he have children? Had the military been all he’d imagined? Was his father proud of him?

  That had been another goal, one that she knew Tanner had held just as dear as the others. He’d constantly cited his father’s military career with a sense of pride and longing in his voice. He’d desperately wanted to live up to the elder Crawford’s expectations. Even then, Mia had wondered if that had been an attainable goal. Though she’d only met the retired major once, it had been enough to see the strain on the relationship between the two men.

  She also wondered if Tanner still read Shakespeare? Or had he ever been to Baltimore to see the Poe Toaster?

  He’d mentioned doing that several times when they’d been together, she recalled now. Given that the Poe Toaster hadn’t made an appearance this year—the first time since nineteen-forty-nine that the bottle of cognac and three roses weren’t left on Edgar Allen Poe’s original grave on his birthday—she wondered if that would be something Tanner would ever get to see, if he hadn’t already. She had dozens of questions, but pride kept her from asking. It was better for Tanner to think she didn’t care, that she had truly been ready to call it quits between them when he did.

  The most pressing question, of course, was why had he left the military? Though she’d originally noted that his eyes were the same, upon closer inspection, she’d had to amend her opinion. True, they were the same color, but there was a strain around them now, a world-weary knowledge of things she’d never seen, etched into the fine lines around those unusual orbs. He looked…haunted, for a lack of better description, Mia noted, and that undue weariness tugged at her heart.

  The only thing that hadn’t changed was his ability to absolutely turn her inside out. Just looking at him made her heart ache in her chest, made her stomach bob around like a worm wriggling on a hook. The combination of affection and attraction simply slayed her, even now. She’d never felt anything like it, anything even remotely close since they’d been together. Even with all the water under the bridge. Frankly, she would have thought their years apart would have washed away whatever feelings she had for him. But one look was all it had taken to resurrect every single tender feeling she’d ever had for him, make her remember his every touch against her skin. The want, the need, the breathless anticipation of his kiss, of that perfect moment when their two bodies became one.

  It was grossly unfair, Mia thought, the supreme height of injustice. Clearly he’d moved on. And for all intents and purposes, she had, too. She had her career, one that she loved. And she loved her little craftsman-style home in Savannah, another sign of progression. She’d painstakingly restored the bulk of it herself, stripping floors, sanding windowsills and cleaning the fireplaces. Her cheeks puffed as she exhaled mightily.

  And until today she’d had a boyfriend. Admittedly, Harlan had been on his way out, but still, he’d been there. He hadn’t necessarily been a placeholder for someone better, but…what exactly had been their relationship? In all honesty, she didn’t know. She just knew that the only man she’d ever truly cared for and truly, desperately wanted was on the other side of the wall.

  And that, unfortunately for her heart, was too damned close for comfort.

  In order to save him a bit of hot water, Mia hurried through the rest of her shower and quickly ran through her nightly routine. Her hands shook as she belted the sash to her robe and she expelled a shaky breath before finally opening the door.

  Tanner had ordered food fr
om next door and a carry-out tray was sitting on her bed.

  He looked up when she came out and she felt the slide of his gaze traipse slowly over her frame. “I hope you don’t mind, but I went ahead and ordered us a couple of sandwiches and fries.”

  She nodded and picked up the container, surprised at how hungry she actually was. Of course, she’d used up a lot of energy lusting after him today, so… “That’s fine, thanks.”

  He popped a fry into his mouth. “No mustard, no pickle on your hamburger, right?”

  He remembered that? “Er…right. Thanks.”

  “How’s the shower?” he asked.

  Her head jerked up and she felt a guilty flush slide over her cheeks. Did he know? How could he know? She hadn’t even moaned. “Hot,” she said cautiously, sliding him a look.

  “A good, strong spray?” he asked.

  Strong enough, she thought, deliberately opening a packet of ketchup. She cleared her throat, felt her lips twitch. “Yeah, I think so. It felt good to me, anyway.”

  “Excellent,” he told her, popping another French fry into his mouth. “I hate those weak jobs.”

  Belatedly she realized he was nervous, that he seemed to be trying to fill the air with words. Either the silence offended him, or he was trying to work up the nerve to tell her something else. Knowing Tanner as she did, her money was on the latter.

  He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “Listen, Mia…”

  So she was right, Mia thought, bracing herself. She turned to look at him and quirked a brow. He looked adorably unsure, an odd expression on a face that was usually so confident. “Yes?”

  He hesitated. “I wouldn’t tell you this unless I had to, but since we’re sleeping in the same room and I don’t want you to be afraid—” he winced regrettably “—I don’t really see any other way around it.”