Edge of Betrayal

by Shannon K. Butcher

  Mira shook her head and tightened her grip around his hand. She felt better when she touched him. Safer. It made zero sense that that would be the case, but she was too exhausted, both emotionally and physically, to fight whatever brought her comfort.

  “He won’t come for you,” said Adam. “At least not tonight. He’ll be too busy trying to get away to go someplace he thinks we’d look for him.”

  “I guess that’s a blessing, at least. I don’t know how I’m going to sleep knowing he’s out there.” She turned toward him in her seat, watching the play of lights across his angular jaw. “Did you know he put cameras in my home? In my office?”

  His finger stroked across the inside of her wrist, magically slowing her rioting pulse. “We’ll sweep for bugs when we get you home if you like.”

  “I do that every day as a matter of habit now. Even when I thought he was dead.”

  He pulled into her driveway and left the engine running. “You don’t have to stay here tonight. We could go somewhere else.”

  “No. I won’t let him run me away from my own home. If I give him that much control, it’s like letting him win. I won’t do that.” She forced herself to get out of the car and go inside.

  Between the car and the front door, she caught herself checking the bushes and shadows for signs of her father lurking nearby. Of course he wasn’t there, but even knowing he could be was enough to make her feel uneasy and skittish.

  The moment they walked through her front door, Adam locked it behind them. Her hand had already grown cold with the lack of his touch, and in that moment, she realized just how close to the edge of crumbling she really was. If she didn’t pull herself together, she was going to end up sobbing in a ball in the middle of the floor.

  She hadn’t felt that way when Adam had held her hand. There was something about his silent support that gave her enough room to lean on him, just a little. Tomorrow she might hate herself for the weakness, but tomorrow was a whole, long, dark night away from now.

  Mira gave in to the need for human contact and crushed herself against his body. He didn’t hesitate to put his arms around her. In fact, if she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he lurched at the chance to hold her.

  She buried her face against his chest, breathing in his scent. His hand stroked down her back from her nape to the swell of her butt. Over and over, he petted her, and with each passing touch, more of her tension drained away.

  His heartbeat was a steady, calming thrum under her ear. It urged her own chaotic pulse to follow his lead. Each deep, even breath he took rocked her slightly, instilling a sense of lazy peace way down in her core.

  She hadn’t been held like this in a long time. Maybe it never had been like this. It was both powerful and tranquil, weaving the two together in a way she hadn’t known was possible until now.

  Mira had no idea how long they stood there. Time was irrelevant. And he didn’t seem to be in any kind of hurry to break the connection.

  A few days ago, the only interaction she wanted with Adam was with him behind bars. Now she couldn’t imagine him not being here, right where he was, solid and strong enough to keep her on her feet.

  Finally, when she felt steady enough to move forward and calm enough to think, she lifted her head to thank him for being here.

  Before she could open her mouth, the words dissolved and disappeared.

  She and Adam were standing close, but she hadn’t realized just how intimate it was until his head tilted down to look at her. Their mouths were only a few inches apart, and she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off his.

  She’d kissed him once before. She knew how warm and pliant his lips were. She even had a hint of how he’d taste.

  It wasn’t enough.

  Her fingers curled over his shoulders. She lifted up onto her toes. He didn’t so much as twitch, giving her no sign if she should keep going or back away.

  She hesitated—and felt the slightest tightening of his hands at her waist. The motion pulled her forward just enough that she could feel the thick length of his erection against her stomach.

  Right or wrong, this man wanted her, and the sheer power of that went to her head. Something inside her snapped. Years of pent-up hormones burst free, and she kissed him with all the enthusiasm of a teenage girl.

  For a second, she thought he wasn’t going to respond. His lips stayed still beneath hers, warm and soft but immobile. How he could be as aroused as he was and still maintain self-control was beyond her. Even without him kissing her back, she was swiftly getting excited.

  She tilted her mouth, hoping to coax him to give her a taste. Her tongue flicked out along the seam of his lips.

  In an instant, everything changed.

  She felt herself lift from the ground. His big, hot hands cupped her butt, holding her against him so tight she could barely breathe. His mouth opened, and he took control of the kiss, his tongue sweeping inside and bringing with it his unique, intoxicating taste.

  A moment later, he lowered her to the couch. She couldn’t remember how she got across the room, but every bone in her body had melted just a little, and the horizontal surface at her back was more than welcome.

  Adam cupped her face in his hands. His hold was gentle but firm enough that she could feel exactly how he wanted her to move as he kissed her.

  Her body heated from the inside out. She floated in a state that was an odd mix of frenetic need and a languid kind of peace. It was just kissing, but it felt like so much more.

  She wanted it to be more.

  Her hands slipped up under the hem of his shirt. Sleek, smooth flesh met her fingers. Hot, hard, yet pliant. Each move he made shifted his muscles, giving her a tantalizing feast for her fingertips. There was so much strength there, yet each touch he gave her was gentle.

  He lifted his head. His gray eyes had darkened, leaving behind a single, silvery ring around his pupils. His mouth had reddened, and there was a sheen of moisture along his bottom lip she desperately wanted to lick away.

  She leaned toward him to do just that, but he splayed one hand at the base of her throat and held her in place. For some reason, that simple act of restraint made a naughty surge of heat flare in her belly.

  Mira melted beneath him. Her thighs widened, giving his body more space to settle close. The thick ridge of his erection grazed across the seam of her pants, causing it to inflict the most exquisite pressure against her clit.

  Her nipples tightened. Her back arched, the move completely involuntary.

  Adam gave off the sexiest sound she’d ever heard. It was somewhere between a purr and a growl, and so low she could barely hear it. But she felt it. The sound vibrated through her, quivering in her bones as it passed.

  “Kiss me again,” she said.

  His jaw bulged as he gritted his teeth. She could see him struggling for control, and all she wanted was to strip it away so she could have the real man lurking under the surface.

  She rolled her hips toward him—this time the move was anything but accidental. “Kiss me.”

  His long fingers curled against her skin. His hand was big enough to span both collarbones, and the casual strength he wielded was enough to make any red-blooded girl swoon.

  “If I kiss you again, it won’t end there.”

  “I’m okay with that.” Was she? A few days ago she wanted to punch him and now she was going to let him sleep with her?

  “Are you?” he asked, echoing her thoughts. “Do you really want me inside your body? Moving within you? Coming inside you?”

  Just the words made a violent swell of heat sear her from the inside out. “Yes.”

  “That’s not the Mira I know. You’re not thinking clearly.”

  “I don’t want to think. I just want to feel.”

  “And then what? When it’s over, will you smile and curl against me while we s
leep? Or will you hate me for violating you in a moment of weakness?” He rolled away and stood in a single, smooth motion. “I can’t stand the idea of you hating me any more than you already do. I’m sorry.”

  Before she could gather a coherent thought to argue, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door. The lock clicked into place.

  Mira’s body ached with unsated need, but as the seconds rolled by, that shimmering heat began to fade. Her instincts receded, and her mind started working again.

  She’d almost fucked Adam. Just the thought was too strange to grasp. She’d wanted him more than she could ever remember wanting another man. He’d wanted her, too. That was painfully obvious.

  And yet he’d stopped.

  She owed him for that. Big-time. And as soon as she could look at him again without wanting to jump his bones, she was going to thank him.

  * * *

  Adam clenched the sink and breathed. Anything more than that was beyond him. He’d used up everything else he had to walk away from Mira and her sweet offering.

  He could have been inside her right now, stroking deep, feeling her body clench around him as he found what pleased her.

  But at what cost?

  The moments of pleasure would end and reality would set in. She’d realize what she’d done and hate him even more.

  The fear of that was a far more powerful motivator than any biological need he possessed.

  He tried to shove his feelings into a box. Compartmentalization was how he survived. He lived and breathed it, pushing things aside so that he could deal with what was too urgent to ignore. His skills had rarely failed him before, but they did now.

  Mira and all of the feelings she aroused in him could not be contained.

  There was nothing he could do but suffer through this odd kind of helplessness—no other option than to let his emotions run their course. So he stood in front of the mirror, holding on to the sink like it was the only thing anchoring him to this planet. And breathed.

  He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, but his body slowly relinquished control back to his mind, and he was once again himself.

  His sigh of relief fogged the bathroom mirror. He wiped it away and stared at himself. The features looking back at him were the same as they’d always been, but he felt different. Altered.

  Mira’s pull on him had changed him somehow, and until he figured out exactly how, he needed to tread lightly.

  He left the safety of the bathroom, feeling like he was walking into battle.

  She was curled up on the couch, her legs tucked under her, gripping a mug. As soon as she saw him, she went still. Even the tendril of steam curling out from her mug seemed to freeze in place.

  Maybe it was just him.

  After a moment, she looked down at what she was drinking, depriving him of the power she held within her direct gaze. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” he asked.

  “Getting me away from my father alive. Taking me home so I could breathe again. Not taking me once we got here and making me forever regret it.”

  Ah. There it was. The important bit saved for last.

  Some small part of him had apparently hoped she’d still be ready, willing, and eager for him when he came out. He hadn’t realized the fantasy of her acceptance was lurking in him until it died a swift and painful death.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Your control astounds me. I have no idea how you can stay so calm and cool with bullets flying, mad scientists spewing homicidal threats, and a woman throwing herself at you like some kind of hussy.”

  “The first one is easy. The second, difficult. The third . . . let’s just say that I’m not sure how much more of that kind of control I have left in me.”

  A little grin kicked up one side of her mouth. “Message received loud and clear: Keep my lips to myself.”

  “Unless you change your mind about what you want,” he said before he could think better of it.

  Her grin vanished. Her throat moved as she swallowed. “We’re not right for each other. It would be nothing more than a fling.”

  It could be.

  The idea sprouted in his mind, fully grown and beautifully formed. If there was ever a woman he could love, it was Mira. Her spirit called to him. Her body haunted him. Her mind intrigued him. He wasn’t sure he was capable of such an emotion as romantic love, but he knew what it was to care for someone so deeply that he would kill for them. It was how he felt about Eli, and why he’d been willing to hurt Mira to reach him.

  Now the thought of doing exactly as he’d done before—of trading her for information about his brother—seemed impossible. Revolting.

  How could his feelings toward an act so rational have changed in only a short time?

  “Are you hungry?” she asked.

  He checked in with his stomach. “Yes.”

  She uncurled her legs and stood. Her bloody clothes were gone. The baggy sweat suit she now wore was an obvious effort at self-defense. He couldn’t see a single one of her curves, which was probably a blessing. He still wasn’t sure how much control he had over his body, and sweet, sexy, brilliant Mira took up far too much of his attention to fit in one of his convenient mental boxes.

  She went into the kitchen, and he trailed after her like a lost puppy. He swore he could smell her skin, even as far away as he forced himself to walk.

  Her feet were covered by thin socks that clung to her high arches and dainty toes. His gaze kept straying to them, wondering how something as simple as a human foot could be so mesmerizing. Of course, her hands intrigued him, too, as did her eyes. And her mouth.

  Her mouth.

  He was getting aroused just thinking about the way it felt against his, so open and eager for his tongue. Her taste had gone to his head, addicting him in seconds. He wasn’t sure how he was going to go the rest of his life without more of her mouth.

  She laid out everything for turkey sandwiches. “It’s not much. Sorry.”

  He didn’t care about the food. None of it would taste like her, so it held no value other than fueling his body. “It’s fine.”

  They sat down to eat, and once again he was struck by how close she was to him. The kitchen was small. The table matched. Her choice of seat had nothing to do with her desire to be within reach of him, and yet he was still acutely aware of just how easy it would have been to reach out and take her into his arms again.

  Would she melt like she had before? Would she lose herself in the moment again? And if she did, would he be able to stop?

  He knew he wouldn’t. He was too weak to resist her again so soon.

  Think of something else. Anything else.

  “Something bothered me about tonight,” he said.

  She swallowed her bite. “Most of tonight bothered me.”

  But not all of it. Her blush spoke to just which part she’d enjoyed.

  “Why didn’t Payton have his men shoot?”

  “He said he needed to know where Dad’s labs were. It’s hard to get a corpse to talk.”

  “There were two snipers on the roof. Either one of them could have wounded him nonfatally, but they didn’t. It makes me wonder why.”

  She set down her sandwich. “You think Payton let him slip away?”

  “So he could follow him, perhaps.”

  “Dad would assume he was being followed. He’s smart enough to not go anywhere near where we’d want him to lead us.”

  That much was true. Sage was almost as brilliant as his daughter. “Then why not wound him?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe they were worried he’d die. He’s not exactly a young man. And he didn’t look to be in the best shape, either. He seemed . . . frail. Old.”

  There was still something wrong about it all—something Adam could feel but not see. “Did he give you the phrase you need
ed?”

  “He said there was no phrase. Said I wasn’t programmable. Guess I’m like a VCR that way.”

  “Then why did Ruby say there was a phrase?”

  “Maybe that’s what he told her.”

  “Are you sure he wasn’t lying when he told you there wasn’t one?” he asked.

  She paused for a second, picking at the crust of her wheat bread. “I don’t think so. I could be wrong, but I know that he was always pissed that he couldn’t force me to do stuff when I was a kid. At least not without threatening to hurt someone else.”

  “Like Clay.”

  Her gaze touched his, bounced off. “Yeah. He wasn’t the first kid Dad had tortured to get me to cooperate, but he was the last. I hope it stays that way.”

  Adam’s phone rang. “It’s Payton.”

  She frowned. “Calling at two in the morning? Maybe they found Dad.”

  Adam answered.

  Payton said, “Sage escaped. My men lost him. I need to see you and Mira first thing in the morning.”

  “Why?”

  “Just meet me in my office at six.”

  “She hasn’t slept yet.”

  “Neither have I. Deal.” He paused; then his voice grew quiet. “You’re with her now, right? She’s not alone?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Keep it that way, Adam. There’s no way to know if Sage will go after her.”

  “I’d already considered that. I’m on it.”

  “Good. One less thing for me to worry about, then.”

  “Anything else?”

  “No. Just keep her safe. That’s all I need.” Payton hung up.

  “Well?” Mira asked, her face wide with expectation.

  “He got away. Payton wants to see us in four hours.”

  She slumped in her chair. “He knows something.”

  “Any idea what?”

  “No. And every camera and tracker I plant on him, he finds. I know less about Payton than I do anyone else at the Edge. Except, perhaps, you.”

  He was not going to touch that comment. It was a toxic time bomb waiting to detonate, and he would not leave her side tonight, no matter how angry she was with him.