by Debra Webb
Tightening the sash of her robe she charged from the dressing room, slamming the door behind her.
Justin looked up as she entered the room. He set the book he’d been reading aside and stood. “Would you like a glass of wine?” He gestured to the bottle he’d opened and the two stemmed glasses waiting next to it.
“No,” she said flatly. “I don’t want any wine.” She definitely needed to keep her head about her and not let her temper run away with her. She would not be seduced or distracted now. “I want the truth.”
He turned his hands palm up and spread his fingers in an act of openness. “I’m not certain what you mean by that, but I can see that you’re upset. It’s understandable after what happened. Tell me what I can do.”
She strode up to him and planted her hands on her hips. “It’s simple, tell me who you are.”
Cain had expected any number of questions, but not that particular one. He had anticipated her fear of sounding “nuts” would prevent her from going that route. Obviously he’d overestimated her vanity.
He reached for her, but she dodged his touch. “You know who I am,” he said softly, ensuring that there was no accusation or condescension in his tone.
She shook her head slowly, deliberately. “Justin Winters knew nothing about aggressive self-defense. He was a pacifist of the highest order. Any excuse you offer for your actions tonight, however exemplary, won’t be good enough.”
Cain had known that question would come and had taken appropriate steps to protect his cover. “You’re right.”
One eyebrow lifted slightly higher than the other as surprise registered. She hadn’t expected that.
“The old Justin had no idea how to protect himself, much less his wife,” he said with exaggerated disgust. “I couldn’t do anything but analyze and advise on computer systems and set up remote links. I wasn’t a man…I was a coward.”
Her expression softened the tiniest bit and her stance wavered a little. “You’ve—Justin was never a coward.”
“Yes.” He nodded adamantly. “I was. I didn’t want to know the unpleasant side of life. I was raised in privilege, my partnership skyrocketed. I’ve never had to make my way in life in any respect.” He looked away, forcing his eyes to water for effect. “Not until the crash.”
He was winning the battle. She reached out to him, placed her hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner.
“I know it was difficult.”
He stared at her hand a moment then took it in his own. “You have no idea. I thought I’d never see you again.”
The way she looked at him then…the need and hurt simultaneously vying for her attention shifted something inside him. He suddenly hated the lie he’d just told her. Didn’t want to hurt her this way—and it would hurt her. When she learned the truth…
He gritted his teeth and banished the thought. Whatever it took. Completing his mission was all that mattered. She would get over whatever hurt he wielded. At least she would be alive. She would surely be grateful for that.
“I still don’t understand how you could have done what you did tonight,” she said, a part of her still uncertain, unwilling to let the issue rest. Most of her anger had subsided.
“I didn’t want to be helpless anymore. I’ve been practicing with Copeland now and then.” He shrugged, knowing the gesture would come off as goofy, vulnerable. “I’ve only learned a few moves. Lucky for me one of them was exactly what I needed tonight.”
She still looked suspicious, but only a little. “But you killed that man.”
He nodded. “I know. It was…awful. I just reacted. I had no idea I would kill him.” He pumped up the vulnerability in his eyes. “But the thought that he might hurt you…”
The last obliterated any remaining doubt she suffered.
“Justin, I’m sorry for making this worse.” She pushed her arms around his waist and hugged him close. “I don’t know what got into me. I think maybe I’ve been in a kind of shock, couldn’t think clearly. I should have realized you were experiencing the same.” She heaved a breath against his chest.
He slid his arms around her and closed his eyes, allowing the feel of her warm body pressed so near to his to have its usual effect. His muscles tightened and blood rushed to his loins, hardening his sex. Making him want her so badly he could barely draw in a breath. He didn’t understand the insatiable hunger to know this feeling. He shouldn’t permit it and yet…he couldn’t resist.
IT WASN’T TOO LATE for this to be a special night. Caroline pulled free of his arms and smiled. The same desire she felt was reflected in those clear blue eyes. He wanted her. He really did. Justin had changed…wanted to make things work. She had to stop fighting him. She’d waited so long for this moment….
She drew him toward the bed and said softly, “I want to show you how much I trust you.”
As he watched, she released the sash to her robe and opened it wide. The cool silk skimmed down her body to pool around her feet like a puddle of pale-yellow sunlight.
His fingers tightened into fists of restraint as she reached for one flimsy strap and tugged it off her shoulder. Slowly, ever so slowly, she repeated the move with the other strap then dragged the gauzy material down her breasts, along her rib cage and over her hips.
She stood very still for a time, reveling in the way his gaze moved over her body. When she could wait no longer, she stepped out of the ring of sensuous fabric and moved toward him, swaying her hips provocatively as her hair slid over the swell of her breasts. Tiny, racy jade-colored panties were all that concealed any part of her now.
He was still dressed. She reached out and released the first button holding his shirt closed over that awesome chest. Then another and another, until the designer garment lay open, save for the tails that were still tucked into his trousers.
Her fingers more sure than she had expected, she tugged at the closure of his belt, then pulled it free. The hiss of leather gliding against silk made her shiver. She tossed it aside and unbuttoned his trousers. His shirttail pulled free with ease, and she pushed it over his shoulders, allowing her bare breasts to graze the warm flesh of his chest.
The sound of his ragged breathing filled her ears, made her quiver with renewed anticipation. He shook his arms free of the confining shirtsleeves and the pale-blue garment fell to the floor.
Moving away a step, she studied his well-defined chest and broad, broad shoulders. He was magnificent. Her gaze swept over those muscular arms, pausing briefly on the bandage, and she thought of the power he possessed…the strength to kill an enemy. The courage. Another shiver skittered over her naked skin.
Now, for the coup de grâce. She wanted him to know how very much she trusted him, no matter that she showed weakness from time to time. She was only human, just as he was. Their future was all that mattered. The children they would have. All of that waited in this new future together. He had made all the changes so far. It was time she compromised as well…allowed herself to be vulnerable—completely—to him.
Caroline dropped to her knees and removed his shoes, first one and then the other. She rolled off each sock and tossed it aside to join the shoes.
She reached up, her gaze colliding with his, as her fingers latched on to the zipper of his slacks and lowered it.
The intensity in those piercing blue eyes very nearly undid her. He looked more vulnerable than she would ever have imagined. So filled with need and desire. His neediness emboldened her…made her want to show him just how much pleasure she could bring him.
His trousers whispered along the length of his strong legs, down and off, to land somewhere on the floor on the other side of the room.
Her gaze moved upward once more and her breath caught at the bulge filling his briefs. She’d seen Justin in his briefs before…but never like this. Slowly, carefully, she pulled down the undergarment, eased it over his swollen sex, and down those long, sturdy legs. The briefs joined the trousers.
At last he was naked. Caroline sat
back and gloried in the beauty of him. How could she have been married to this man for more than five years and never once seen him like this? They had wasted so much precious time. The feel of her damp feminine curls against the backs of her calves reminded her how very ready she was for this relationship to move forward. Not in all those years of marriage had she grown moist merely looking at him. She had done that over and over the past few days. Whenever they were alone together…whenever he spoke to her. The sound of his voice, no longer rough from disuse, made her want him.
If his jagged respiration was any indication, he wanted her just as much. That moment would come. But now, she had some catching up to do. She wanted to pleasure him the way he had her just the other night.
Uncertainty warred with her determination. This was something she had never done before…something private between a husband and wife…but her husband hadn’t wanted his wife until now. It was well past time they shared this most intimate act.
She shifted her weight to her knees and touched him. He felt as hard and sleek as granite. Her breath hitched as he pulsed, hot and alive, in her hand. Her entire body tingled and quivered with excitement…with anticipation. She leaned forward and tasted him, just one little swipe of her tongue. Smooth…intoxicating. She wanted him to cry out as she had. She wanted him to lose control.
Strong hands abruptly slid beneath her arms and scooped her up and onto the bed. He came down on top of her, his eyes gleaming with primal need, his breath ragged spurts. She started to protest but he latched on to her breast. Sucked hard, savagely so. She whimpered, felt her feminine muscles spasm with the aftershock of his hot, drawing mouth. He licked and nibbled, his hips undulating against her, nudging her, not wanting to wait…like an animal, unable to control the reflex.
He moved lower, leaving a path of hot, damp flesh wherever his mouth lathed and suckled. He traced each rib with his tongue, dipped in and out of her belly button until she thought she would scream with the incredible feel of it.
On his knees between her legs, he sat back and stared at her nude body.
“Please,” she murmured. “Don’t make me wait.”
He positioned himself, drawing a gasp from her. He felt so damned good. His hands went under her buttocks, lifted and pulled her toward him, sinking himself inside her inch by inch.
Her fingers fisted in the sheets. He stretched her to the limit…filled her to capacity and then some. When he sealed her intimate juncture against him completely, he held very still, his breathing a perfect match to her own rapid, shallow puffs.
He held her that way for a time, allowing her body to fully adjust to his invasion, the stretching sensation alone sending her closer and closer to that exquisite peak. Every beat of his heart made him pulse harder inside her.
He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, until tears welled in her eyes, until her whole world was spinning around her. She clutched at his strong back as reason fled, leaving only sensation…sensation after sensation. The feel of his heart pounding in his chest echoed her own.
This was right.
This was perfect.
Then he started to move. Every slide and thrust along her feminine walls added a new layer of pleasure to the cascade of pleasure stroking every nerve ending of her body. Lights flickered behind her lids. She wanted to share all that she felt with him, but her mind couldn’t form the words. She could only feel and draw closer and closer to that edge of pure bliss.
His entire body tensed and she knew he was on the verge of release too. She lifted her hips to meet him. He cried out at the unexpected move. Faster, harder, she pushed, pumping her hips to meet his every thrust, squeezing him, until they came together. His body trembled with the burst of release…she cradled him, taking all of him deeply inside her.
He rolled onto his side, held her in his arms and fought to catch his breath. She struggled to capture hers as well. She pressed her face against his sweat-dampened chest and listened to his heart pound.
She would never survive losing him now.
Never.
CAIN LAY very still as his respiration and heart rate returned to normal. Image after image, sensation after sensation kept replaying in his mind, twisting in his gut. Her on her knees before him. The heat and near-violent responses of her body. Orgasm had shaken her, rippled through her muscles like nothing he’d ever experienced.
But nothing matched the feel of him buried deep inside her. So hot and tight…so welcoming. He wanted to sink himself there again. To stay joined with her all through the night.
When she’d brought him to the edge of climax she made him feel…emotion.
He’d never fully understood what it meant to care so deeply for someone that you would die for them. He would die for his mission…but the human factor had never before entered into the equation.
Wanting to protect her was no longer about the mission…it was about her. He had to protect her. He could not bear to see her hurt. He had known when he’d had to kill that man at the party that she would see him in a different light. The idea that she would hate him…wouldn’t want him to touch her again almost drove him out of his mind.
He’d had the proper motivation for his actions tonight. Had managed to smooth over the situation, but none of that changed the way it left him feeling.
This was a failure, he recognized that. But he could not stop the alien feelings. He needed to protect her. To hold her close and destroy anyone or anything that threatened her. That made him unreliable in this mission. He should report the failure to O’Riley.
But he would not.
He could not.
He was the only one who could save her.
She slept in his arms, trusting. He’d wanted her trust. Now he had it. But he would never own her heart. Another man, a dead man, owned her heart.
He had never needed anyone to care about him before.
Confusion lined his brow. Perhaps he didn’t really need anyone now. These bewildering feelings might be side effects of what they had just shared.
He’d never made love with a woman, not like that, until Caroline. He’d had sex before, but this had been different. He recognized that, knew how it had affected her. He had considered that the next time might not be so all-consuming…so powerful, but tonight had proven him wrong.
He had never been wrong before.
THEY’D FALLEN ASLEEP, exhausted, when the telephone rang.
Cain came alert first.
The tiny hitch in Caroline’s breath told him that the second ring had startled her.
“I’ll answer it,” he said as he reached for the receiver on the bedside table.
“No!” She pulled at his arm. “Let the answering machine get it.”
He studied her in the dim light. “What makes you afraid?”
She peered into his eyes, fear welling in hers. “The only person who has ever called me on this line is you.”
The machine picked up on the fourth ring. The automated voice instructed the caller to leave a message after the beep.
“Caroline…”
Cain’s gaze shot to the machine as he listened to the voice of Justin Winters speaking to his wife from the grave.
Chapter Ten
Center
Ghost Mountain
Final Countdown
Day 2
“Sir.”
Director Richard O’Riley looked up to find his secretary, Clara, hovering in the door. He slipped the photo he’d been staring at back into the desk drawer where it belonged. The elegant silver frame with its accompanying photo of his lovely ex-wife had once held a position of honor on his desk. But no more. His life with Angela was over…had been for a while now. He didn’t know why he punished himself by staring at her picture every time he had a few minutes alone in his office. It wasn’t as though he was over the hill. Hell, he was only fifty-eight. He could have a social life…if he wanted.
“Sir?”
He snapped to attention, annoyance, mostly at himself making hi
s tone sharp, “Yes.”
“Mr. Dupree is on his way up. He just arrived back at Center.”
O’Riley stood. “Tell him I’ll meet him in Lab Three.” He had a technician standing by to assist.
In the corridor outside his office, O’Riley walked straight to the bank of elevators. Inside the car he selected sublevel three. He pressed his thumb against the scanner to authorize entrance to the restricted sublevel. Center had six floors above ground and four below. The most important lab work was done on the four subterranean levels.
Once he exited the elevator car on sublevel three a retinal scan was required to get beyond the double doors marked Restricted Access.
The doors opened automatically. A laser scan ensured that only one person passed through on each retinal approval. As the doors whooshed closed behind him he strode along the wide corridor until he reached the door marked Lab Three. The lower levels, as did all of Center, operated on a private power system not connected to any outside sources. All telephone lines were operated from a secure satellite system.
O’Riley entered the lab and nodded in greeting to the technician standing by. “Is it here?” the tech asked.
O’Riley nodded again. “On its way down.”
His timing perfect, Dupree breezed through the door, a sleek black briefcase attached to his wrist via a state-of-the-art titanium bracelet. The bracelet, if opened without proper authorization, contained an explosive that would detonate, annihilating anything within a half-dozen meters, including whatever the briefcase contained.
After releasing the briefcase and placing it on a steel lab table, Dupree removed the two items it contained.
The letter.
The second item was half of the necessary key.
O’Riley visually surveyed what appeared to be a blank page, except for one small icon placed neatly at the top right-hand corner. No wonder Adam hadn’t remembered anything about the letter from the Judas Mission other than that it was important. There was nothing to remember except that icon.