“What if he finds us here, Jake?”
“He won’t.” But there was little conviction in his voice.
Leigh did her best not to cause him pain as she disinfected the wound and applied the butterfly tape to close it. But she could tell by the way his muscles tensed that she was hurting him.
By the time she finished the bandage, she was trembling with tension. “Have you got something for the pain?” she asked.
“Acetaminophen in the kit.” He winced as he grabbed his pants.
Leigh handed him the blanket. “Let me wash the blood from your clothes.”
Jake looked as if he wanted to protest, but he took the blanket and wrapped it around his hips. “I’ll do it. Just get me the pills.”
Securing the blanket at his hips, he worked off his boxers and took both his jeans and shorts to the sink. Leigh met him there a moment later with three Tylenol in her hand.
He downed them dry and proceeded to scrub the blood from his boxers. Without asking, Leigh picked up his jeans and used an old bar of soap to scrub the blood from the fabric.
“So what do we do now?” she asked.
“Try to get some rest. We’ve got running water. Heat. I think I’ve got a couple of protein bars in the Hummer. We leave at first light.”
“To where?”
He said nothing.
“Your place?”
“I didn’t get to be a federal agent by being stupid, Leigh.”
“That would certainly draw Rasmussen out, wouldn’t it?”
He shot her a dark look. “You’re going to have to trust me.”
“The last time I trusted you it cost me—” Shocked by what she’d almost said, Leigh bit off the words.
Jake stared hard at her, his eyes digging into her, seeking answers she didn’t want to give. “You never told me, Leigh. What exactly did you have to do to get the goods on Rasmussen six years ago?”
Struggling against the shame and anguish threatening to overwhelm her, she stared back at him. “You should know, Jake. But then I was expendable, wasn’t I?”
As realization dawned, fury flashed in the dark depths of his eyes. But it was not directed at her. And suddenly it hit her that he hadn’t known.
Taking the jeans from her, he turned away and walked to the living room without responding. Pressing her hand to her stomach, Leigh remained in the kitchen. What had just happened? Was Jake angry with Ian Rasmussen? With her? Or was he angry with himself?
When she’d calmed down, she followed. He was in the process of draping the jeans and briefs over the hot potbellied stove. “Should be dry in a couple of hours,” he said.
“How does the wound feel?”
“Going to be stiff for a couple of days.” His voice was milder, but still he didn’t look at her. “I’ll have a nice scar to add to my collection.”
The image of his battle-scarred body came to her in a vivid flash. She’d felt his hard muscles flex beneath her hands. She’d sensed the power within him, and she’d seen that power unleashed.
That she could remember with such startling clarity made her realize she was going to have to be careful in the coming days. Jake Vanderpol was a dynamic man, especially when he wanted something.
Leigh wondered if he wanted something from her. If that something had to do with getting Rasmussen. Or if it was much more personal.
LEIGH UNCOVERED an old cast-iron pot in one of the kitchen cabinets and heated water on the stove. An hour later and six trips up the creaky old stairs, and the old claw-foot tub in the upstairs bathroom was almost full. She found a candle and set it on a broken plate and carried it upstairs.
Looking down into the steaming water, she had never wanted a bath as badly as she did right now. Quickly she stripped off her clothes and sank into the hot water all the way up to her chin. It was a small pleasure, but one she wouldn’t trade for anything.
She hadn’t spoken to Jake since their exchange earlier. He seemed restless and brooding, and Leigh would just as soon not deal with him when her own emotions were strung tight. He’d walked to the Hummer and retrieved two protein bars. They’d eaten in silence. He hadn’t spoken of Rasmussen. But Leigh had seen him watching her.
She lay back in the hot water trying to shut out all thoughts of him. But Jake Vanderpol was not the kind of man a woman could easily erase from her mind. She’d been trying to forget him for six years. Even with all the unresolved issues between them, something had remained. Something that could not be shaken by time or absence or even the hurt he had caused her.
She jolted when her cell phone rang. Sitting up, she looked around and in the candlelight located her cell phone on the floor next to her bra and panties. Who would be calling her? The people from the Witness Security Program? Had Ian Rasmussen been caught? Was she safe? Could she go home?
Bolstered by those hopes, she reached for the phone. The number on the display wasn’t familiar. She hit the talk button. “Hello?”
“Don’t hang up.”
The refined voice, the words spoken so softly, made her heart beat madly, and the water suddenly felt ice cold. “Ian. Wh-what are you doing?”
“I’m trying to stay alive, Leigh. There are men out there who want to kill me. They think I’m a criminal.”
“You are a criminal. You need to turn yourself in.”
“Prison is no place for a man like me. But then, you knew it would be hard for me, didn’t you? And yet you did what you had to do to put me away anyway, didn’t you?”
“You were going to kill me.”
“I loved you, Leigh. I would never hurt you. You know that.”
“Ian, you need to turn yourself in.” It was the only thing she could think of to say.
“You and I have some unfinished business, Leigh. You and I and Jake Vanderpol.”
Her heart beat even faster. “I have no business with you.”
“You’ve been with him, haven’t you? I hear it in your voice. You’ve given him your body.”
His tone changed then. Refined, yet with something ugly and menacing just beneath the surface. “I’m going to make him pay when I get my hands on him, Leigh. I can promise you you’ll hear every second of what I do to him.”
“Don’t.” The single word was all she could manage. Leigh had never considered herself weak. She had certainly never considered herself a coward. In the year she’d been with Ian Rasmussen, he’d never so much as laid a hand on her. But she feared him like she’d never feared another human being in her life.
“I miss you, Leigh.”
A sound escaped her when the bathroom door swung open. For a terrible moment she envisioned Rasmussen bursting into the room. Jake dead downstairs. Their fates sealed…
Then she saw Jake. Apprehension and grim determination showed on his face as he came over to the tub. In the candlelight she could see his eyes flicking from her to the phone in her hand. He must have seen something in her expression because he reached for the phone without speaking. “Who is this?” he said in a rough voice.
JAKE HAD HEARD the chirp of her cell phone through the heating vents and rushed upstairs. If the caller was one of Leigh’s friends, Rasmussen wouldn’t hesitate to use them to glean their location. The arms dealer wasn’t above torture when it came to getting what he wanted.
Steam hovered like wet ghosts when he burst through the door. In the back of his mind it occurred to him she was taking a bath, that he probably wasn’t welcome. He caught a glimpse of her skin glistening in the soft light. But all sexual thoughts vanished when he saw her face, and knew who the caller was.
Taking the phone from her, he put it to his ear and turned away to give her privacy. “Who is this?”
“Judging from your tone, I think you know. How are you, Mr. Vanderpol?”
“I can have this call traced,” Jake said. “Triangulation and we’ll have you within the hour.”
“Why don’t you do that?”
Jake said nothing. He knew better than to let a scumbag l
ike Rasmussen get to him, but he wanted to take the other man down so badly he could taste it.
“That’s what I thought,” Rasmussen said.
“What the hell do you want?”
“Leigh, of course. Your death will be a bonus.”
Jake forced a laugh. “Why don’t you do yourself a favor and turn yourself in? Give me a location and I’ll have an agent pick you up. You can resolve this peaceably.”
“Peaceably is hardly my style.”
“Any other way and you won’t survive.”
The pause that followed was so long that for a moment, Jake thought Rasmussen had disconnected. Then Rasmussen lowered his voice and said, “Have you been with her yet?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But Jake knew exactly what the bastard was talking about, and he hated it. “I think you’re one twisted son of a bitch.”
“Ah, a gentleman. You don’t kiss and tell, do you, Vanderpol?” A harsh laugh sounded. “Was she worth it?”
“Worth what?”
“Giving it all up for?”
Jake couldn’t respond. All he could do was stand there and wonder how Rasmussen knew about his leaving the agency. “Turn yourself in, Rasmussen.”
“Enjoy her while you can, Vanderpol.” His voice intensified. “Because I’m coming for her. I’m going to take her from you. And I’m going to make you beg for—”
Jake disconnected. Even though the room was cold, sweat had broken out on the back of his neck.
How the hell had Rasmussen known about his leaving the agency just that morning?
“Jake?”
Her voice pulled him back, but he didn’t turn to face her. For the first time he noticed the candlelight. That the bathroom smelled like her. A sweet, earthy scent that titillated his senses, made him long for something that had eluded him for what seemed like forever.
“Don’t answer your phone again,” he said.
“I didn’t know it was him.”
He turned to face her. “Cell phones can be traced.”
“I didn’t know,” she said.
The candle didn’t throw off much light, but it was enough for him to see the loveliness of her face. Jake swore he wasn’t going to look at the rest of her. But his eyes betrayed him and skimmed over the enticing curve of her shoulders. The graceful length of her throat. The old porcelain tub was tall, and he was standing far enough away that it covered the rest of her. But he had seen her naked. He had had the image of her smooth, silky skin branded in his brain.
Remembering the nights they’d spent holed up in a safe house, he went hard. His head began to whirl as all the blood in his body rushed south. For several interminable minutes he just stood there, need pulsing through his body.
She stared back at him, her mouth partially open as if in surprise. All he could think of were the times he’d kissed that mouth. All the times that mouth had been on his, on his body.
“Get dressed,” he heard himself say.
And then he left the room.
Chapter Six
Ian Rasmussen had made the call via his satellite phone. “Did you get the trace?” he asked.
“We’ve located the nearest tower.”
“Excellent. Where are they?”
“Western Missouri.”
“Vanderpol drives a Hummer. That size vehicle shouldn’t be hard to spot.”
“The area is rural farmland. Snow is going to make it difficult. He could have parked it in an out-building or garage.”
The slow burn of fury made Rasmussen’s hands clench. He didn’t want obstacles thrown in his path. He wanted action and he wanted it right now. “Do you know what I did to the last man who handed me excuses?”
The man on the other end of the line cleared his throat. “No, sir.”
“I had him skinned alive and made gloves from his flesh.”
Tense silence filled the line. “I understand,” the man said.
“Good. Then you understand that all I care about is results. Are we on the same page?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Find Jake Vanderpol. Find Leigh Michaels. Use every resource at your disposal. Call in every favor ever owed you. Money is not an option. I want both of them alive. And I want them right now.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“You’d better hope your best is good enough,” Rasmussen snapped, then disconnected.
LEIGH LAY ON HER SIDE a few feet from the potbellied stove listening to the wind whipping around the eaves and the snow hitting the windowpanes.
Even though her body ached with exhaustion, her mind was wound tight. Jake had given her the only blanket, but she was still freezing. He’d gotten up twice to put wood in both the stove and the fireplace. Evidently, she wasn’t the only one with insomnia.
She wanted to believe it was fear eating away at her peace of mind and her ability to sleep. But she knew her wakefulness had little to do with Rasmussen and everything to do with the man sitting a few feet from the hearth, staring into the fire.
He hadn’t spoken to her since the scene in the bathroom when Rasmussen had called. Leigh had wanted to talk, but something kept her from bridg ing the chasm that had fallen between them. Maybe it was because she didn’t want to risk getting any closer to him.
She knew Jake was a good man. A good agent. It was the latter, though, that kept her from trusting him. Because while she knew he wanted to protect her, she also knew he was capable of sacrificing her to get his man. She had the scars on her heart to prove it.
“You’re shivering.”
She jolted at the sound of his voice. “It’s cold,” she said, sitting up.
He stood over her, looking down. Leigh wasn’t sure why, but she felt edgy, ill at ease.
“How’s the bullet wound?” she asked.
“Sore. Stiff.” He smiled, and some of the tension leached from her neck and shoulders. “I’ll live.”
“Sounds like the snow is piling up.”
“It’s cold, Leigh. We need to get some sleep. I’m not sure when we’ll be able to sleep again.”
She knew what he was saying, what he was asking. He didn’t ask for permission as he sat down beside her. She saw the intent in his eyes, but she didn’t stop him when he put his arm around her and draped the blanket over both of them.
“Lie down with me,” he said softly. “We’ll stay a lot warmer together than we will alone.”
The protest died on her lips when he eased her to the floor. It seemed only natural to rest her head against his shoulder. For the first time in too many months to count, Leigh felt safe—and oddly content. She felt that as long as she was with Jake, Ian Rasmussen and his band of thugs couldn’t touch them, couldn’t hurt them. Jake Vanderpol was a warrior. He was the most competent man Leigh had ever met.
That she could feel that way for him after what he’d done to her frightened her. Made her feel vulnerable. That once again she was making decisions based on her heart and not her brain.
“Better?” he asked after a moment.
“A lot better. Thank you.”
She turned away so she was lying on her side, facing away from him. He cupped her body with his, solid and warm and so comforting she could feel all the fears and uncertainties draining away. He draped his arm over her in a protective gesture. But a new tension that was just as disconcerting rose in her body. Awareness crept over her. Her nerve endings sizzled where his body touched hers.
He shifted closer. Even though the movement wasn’t sexual, she could feel her body responding to his closeness. Her breasts felt heavy and full. She felt a quivery sensation, need she didn’t want to feel nipping at her.
Jake was only the second man she’d ever been with, and the experience had been breathtaking and intense, and Leigh had fallen hard and fast in love with him. She’d been just naive enough to believe he felt the same for her.
“You’re still shaking,” he whispered.
Leigh closed her eyes. “I’m still cold.”<
br />
“I don’t think that’s why you’re shaking.” When she didn’t answer, he put his hand on her shoulder and rolled her over so that they were lying face-to-face. “We need to talk about what happened last time,” he said.
His eyes were dark in the firelight. But even in the semidarkness she could see the intensity burning there. My God, she thought, how could any woman not fall for this man?
“I’m sorry you got hurt,” he said. “I know you think I used you, but I didn’t.”
“You got what you wanted.” But she’d been so hurt that all she’d wanted to do was get away from Jake and the pain he’d caused her. She’d gone to his superiors with his plan, and they’d carried it out. Used her as a pawn.
And she’d paid a terrible price.
FOR SIX YEARS Jake had wondered what she’d had to do to get Rasmussen to confess on tape. His superiors at the MIDNIGHT Agency had sent her back to Rasmussen. She’d worn a wire into his North Michigan Avenue penthouse. And then she’d proceeded to glean information from him about a shipment of arms designated for delivery to a terrorist group. Because of Leigh, the MIDNIGHT Agency had been there waiting when Rasmussen and his men delivered the arms.
Jake’s direct superior, Sean Cutter, had barred Jake from listening to the tapes that had been made of her encounter with Rasmussen, claiming he was too personally involved. But Jake had always suspected she’d had to sell a piece of her soul to save herself. The not knowing had eaten him alive for six unbearable years.
“That isn’t the way it happened, Leigh. I don’t use the people I care about.”
“That’s the way it felt.”
Wanting her to believe him, hating the mistrust in her eyes, he set his hands on either side of her face. “You and I were together. Right or wrong, it happened. I don’t sleep with someone with an agenda in mind. I sure as hell don’t share them with a damn killer.”
He could see tiny pinpoints of light in her eyes from the fire. She was so lovely. He hated that she thought he was capable of using her in such a terrible way. That she thought so little of him.
Operation: Midnight Escape Page 5