by C. R. Hill
During her shower, her mind had strayed over and over again to Daniel. And to the possibilities of who’d betrayed them. Her partner shouldn’t be dead.
Jake walked out the door, beer in hand. He leaned sideways against a post. “The sauce is cooking.”
“I’m not terribly hungry,” she admitted. The adrenaline rush from earlier had sapped her appetite and her energy, along with the grief she was keeping buried beneath the surface. She didn’t have time for it other than to let it fuel her determination to get answers. “Who are your suspects?”
He grinned. Sierra realized how little any of them really knew the man. He’d always looked so serious, but when he grinned, he looked younger and more carefree. It was another side to the intense agent that she suspected he rarely showed others.
“I knew you were just biding your time.” He took a swallow of beer and propped the bottle on the porch rail.
“Come on, Jake. I deserve to at least know who you suspect.”
He considered her plea a moment, then caved. “Okay. There are four people, besides the President and Vice President, who know about our organization on the outside. Representative Lawrence Townsend, Senator Gail Cassidy, Bruce Sanders, head of the FBI and Bradley Hawkins, the head of the CIA.”
“The head of the armed services committees for both house and senate and the two heads from the other investigative agencies. So, you’re pretty much discounting the other agents involved?”
“For the moment. Trent has had everyone thoroughly checked and has found nothing to point to any of them.”
“You have any gut feelings on the subject?”
Jake looked out across yard. “I suspect Townsend or Cassidy. Townsend recently bought an expensive piece of property in the Caribbean.”
“What about Cassidy?”
Jake shook his head. “Nothing yet to throw suspicion on her, but when it comes right down to it, it almost has to be one of the four.”
“What about Hawkins or Sanders?”
“Sanders has been FBI for fifteen years, he was in the Air Force before that. Not a blemish on his record. Hawkins has been with the CIA ten years. An impeccable record also. It’s certainly possible one of them could have sold out…”
“But you don’t believe it. You’d rather believe it’s one of our esteemed lawmakers.”
He shrugged. “I’ve been around the block enough times to know that a lot of things go on behind the scenes that aren’t always on the up and up. Politics can be a powerful motivator and is usually driven by money.”
She couldn’t argue with that. “True. So what are your plans?”
She wondered if he noticed she’d said your and not our. He did.
“My plans are to go after Diaz.”
She ignored his emphasis on ‘my’ for now. It wasn’t time to try to convince him, yet. “Is Trent sanctioning this?”
His mouth quirked. “Let’s just say, he’s not telling me not to go.”
Sierra shook her head and smiled. “And there you have politics at its finest.”
Jake’s eyebrow arched and his blue eyes were expectant. He was waiting for her to launch a campaign to let her help him.
But, she already knew it would be like bouncing her head on a brick wall. He wasn’t ready to budge yet. She chugged the rest of her beer and stood. “We better go check on that sauce.”
She almost laughed at the look on his face. Yep, always keep your adversaries guessing.
Chapter Four
“I’ll help you clean up,” Sierra said after she and Jake finished their meal. The spaghetti had been good, even though with the first bite she’d been reminded of the meals that Daniel had cooked for them the last month.
Jake stood and shook his head. “That’s okay. I actually have a dishwasher in the cabin. I’ll get you another beer and you can relax outside.”
She leaned back in her chair and grinned. “Well,” she drawled, “aren’t you the gracious host? I’d almost think you were used to entertaining.”
Humor glinted in his eyes. The knowledge that she could amuse him thrilled her more than she’d ever admit.
“Just because I don’t do it very often, doesn’t mean I don’t know how…to do it.” He picked up his plate and hers and swaggered to the kitchen to retrieve her beer.
The innuendo in his words raised goosebumps on her arms. When all they’d shared was a heated look from time to time the man had been dangerous enough. Exchanging words with him was downright treacherous to her resolve not to jump his bones.
He returned with a cold bottle in hand and their fingers brushed as she accepted it. The tiny flutters the touch set off in her stomach made her feel like a silly school girl.
And silly school girl was not a character trait Sierra had ever enjoyed. She’d gone straight from the terrible twos, to basic survival training—care of the Department of Social Services.
Sierra stood, the chair scraping the floor in her haste. “Thanks,” she murmured and headed for the cooler air outside.
Fortunately she was a pro at hiding her emotions.
She was too antsy to relax in the rocking chair. Looking around the yard, she decided to explore. The small barn at the back of the property called to her curious nature.
Condensation from the beer bottle wet her fingertips. She took a large swallow of the yeasty brew, the warm buzz from the first one long gone. She wasn’t much of a drinker—not liking to have her senses dulled—but after the day she’d had, she needed something to dull them.
The sweet fragrance from some flower or bush drifted in the air. Sierra looked around to try to find the culprit, but she didn’t see anything that looked like it could produce the smell that tickled her nose. Of course, horticulture wasn’t her strong suit, since everything green she’d ever try to grow usually bit the dust after only a month. One day she would change that though. In the back of her mind, she always thought one day she’d buy a little farm house and tool around, growing vegetables, planting flowers.
Small, sharp rocks pricked the soles of her feet. Maybe she should have slipped on her sneakers before going on this little adventure. Too late for that now. The urge to find out more about Jake spurred her forward.
She wasn’t disappointed when she opened the barn door. The low whistle came out before she could stop it. A Harley Davidson V-Rod. Sweet. All that chrome and leather.
And power. She ran her hand lovingly over the seat.
“Don’t drool on it.” Jake’s husky voice came from the entrance.
She looked up and grinned. “This is one fine machine.”
“That was a gift to myself for my thirty-eighth birthday.”
She laughed. “I guess you take to heart the saying, if you want something you should just buy it yourself.”
A full-fledged grin appeared on his face. The affect was quite devastating. “Guilty.”
She threw a leg over the bike and settled onto the seat with a sigh of ecstasy. The thought of riding the big powerful machine was as erotic as the thought of riding Jake. Moisture pooled between her thighs as she straddled the hard leather.
Too bad things weren’t different. A shame Jake wasn’t just your ordinary bad boy she could let her hair down with and enjoy a night of sexual release. Then walk away in the morning, no strings, no regrets. But Jake was definitely not ordinary, though she suspected he could be very bad.
She climbed off the motorcycle and headed toward Jake, finishing her beer as she walked. With the bottle empty, she handed it to him. “So how old are you anyway?”
“Thirty-nine.”
“Ooh. I bet you get yourself a heck of a gift next year.”
He chuckled. “I haven’t thought about it yet. I don’t plan too far in advance.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Yeah. I didn’t think I’d make it to my thirtieth. But here I am, already thirty-three.”
Her thoughts dimmed as she thought of Daniel and the fact he wouldn’t see his thirty-fifth in a few months.
&
nbsp; Jake threw her bottle in a trash can by the barn door and pushed it open. They walked back into the yard and Sierra tucked her thoughts of Daniel away for now. Grief would only interfere and she needed all her faculties to deal with Jake.
The sun sat low in the Western sky and a slight breeze blew her hair from her face. She could understand why Jake liked it here so much. There was something soothing and restorative about the towering trees, and dips and swells of the landscape.
They were halfway to the cabin when a big, black snake slithered into their path. Sierra froze. Her heart skipped at least two beats. Perspiration popped out across her forehead.
As if the creepy beast could smell her fear, it stopped and turned its beady eyes on her, a red forked tongue darting out to mock her.
If she had her gun, she’d shoot it. As it was, she could barely breathe.
Jake leaned down.
“What are you doing?” Sierra gasped.
“It’s a harmless chicken snake.”
Sierra took a step back. In her book, the word harmless didn’t apply to any of the little beasts.
Jake turned and looked at her. The jerk actually chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of snakes?”
Sierra straightened her shoulders. She’d never told anyone of her one phobia. Not since she was eight. “I didn’t say I was afraid.”
Her voice must not have been convincing. Jake reached down and grabbed the snake right behind its head and slung it around toward her.
Sierra didn’t scream or jump—she was too well trained—but she took several slow steps backwards, her heart pulsing in her chest.
Jake laughed again. “You’re afraid of snakes.” He waved the creature at her. “You’ll go face to face with the biggest bad-asses in the world, but you won’t come near a harmless little snake.”
He was right and it pissed her off, yet she was helpless to overcome it.
She’d tried.
The muscle in her jaw clenched involuntarily. “I don’t like them,” she said slowly. “Okay?”
She stepped sideways to walk around him and the snake, doing her damndest not to look at it. He threw the snake toward the woods on the edge of the property. She only made it a couple steps before his hand wrapped around her arm and stopped her.
“Why won’t you admit you’re afraid?”
She turned and looked into his eyes, realizing the dilemma it presented. If she answered his question, she’d be admitting her fear. She’d learned early in life not to show or admit such things. The scavengers of this world fed on it.
“I don’t want to talk about this. I’m not afraid, I simply don’t like snakes.” She jerked her arm free, unreasonably irritated at both him and herself.
“There’s nothing wrong with being afraid of something,” Jake said, his tone placating.
She turned. “Oh and what are you afraid of, Mr. Macho?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Admit you’re afraid of snakes and I’ll tell you.”
She shook her head in disgust. “This is a stupid conversation. I don’t see why you even care. I’m going inside.”
Again she only made it a couple steps before his hand latched onto her bicep. This time her anger and frustration at her own silly fear bubbled out. Without thinking she made a defensive move, spinning around to knock his hand loose and sticking her leg out with the intent of knocking him on his fine-looking butt.
Jake may not have anticipated it, but his reflexes were quick. He didn’t let her go. He ended up on his ass with her on top.
She immediately tried to scramble off him. Jake rolled and pinned her beneath his large body, his pelvis pushing against her abdomen.
The blue in his eyes darkened to the color of indigo. “You’re so tough, aren’t you? Steel with a satin covering.” His hand moved; long fingers tangled in the side of her hair. “Admit you’re afraid of snakes, Sierra.” The words came out low.
Anger at his tactics gripped her belly almost as fierce as the lust he stirred. “Go to hell!”
She bucked her hips. Jake only pressed more firmly against her. The corner of his mouth hitched up. “Such language. Come on, Sierra. It’s not that difficult to admit you’re human, is it?” His head lowered slightly. “I’m feeling very human right now myself,” he mumbled.
His words were the only warning she got before his lips brushed her mouth. She stiffened as a torrent of desire filtered through her blood.
He raised his head a few inches, his gaze searching her face. She needed to try to push him off her again. To take control of things.
Screw it. She reached up and pulled his head back down. When their lips met, her tongue slipped inside his mouth. He tasted warm and spicy, wholly intoxicating. More so than the beer.
He allowed her to lead the kiss. Their tongues sparred, matching each other stroke for stroke. His hands roamed beneath her tee shirt. His calloused palm completely covered her bare breast.
Sierra moaned when his fingers brushed her erect nipple. Such a simple touch to provoke such a powerful reaction inside her body.
Her anger, her fear, her caution drifted away on a haze of longing. Longing to feel Jake’s body moving against hers. To feel him inside her.
Jake broke the kiss, his warm palm still resting on her breast. “We have to stop,” he said, his voice as rough as the mountain terrain.
She had to bite her lip to keep from groaning. Sierra knew he was right, not that her body was very happy about it. She relaxed her neck and let her head rest against the ground. He pulled his hand free.
Jake wanted her. His erection pressed solidly against her stomach. That knowledge was almost as satisfying as sex with him. At least she wasn’t the only one suffering here.
Especially when he’d started things.
She gazed into his face. The setting sun left shadows over his eyes. “Is that human enough for you?” she asked.
He smiled. “You’re a complicated woman, Sierra Thayer. I suspect a person could take years trying to figure out what goes on inside your head.”
She arched a brow. “Only years?”
He shook his head and pushed to his feet. Cool air washed over her with the absence of his body heat. She shivered.
Jake held out a hand. She eyed it, then wrapped her fingers around his palm. He pulled her to her feet with little effort.
She brushed the dirt from the back of her jeans. “I’m going to need another shower after rolling in the dirt with you.”
“You’re the one who put us there,” Jake said.
“If you weren’t such a bully I wouldn’t have had to.”
“If you weren’t so stubborn I wouldn’t have been a bully.”
She couldn’t keep the grin off her face as she shook her head. “Touché’. Well, I suppose if you don’t want to have hot, sweaty, sex, then I’m ready for some shut eye.”
Sierra turned, only to have Jake jerk her back around. He kissed her hard and hungry, before she had time to assimilate the situation. He released her as quickly.
“Your smart mouth is going to get you in trouble one day.” He touched her cheek. “If you weren’t a fellow agent, and I wasn’t neck deep into what’s going on with Diaz at the moment, I’d be all over you.”
Sierra smiled, realization dawning. “I know what you’re afraid of.”
His eyes narrowed.
She shook her head, leaned in and gently bit his bottom lip, before pulling back to look into his startled blue eyes. “You’re afraid of losing control.” She was silent a moment to let her words sink in. “Good night, Jake.”
She turned and headed toward the cabin. Jake didn’t stop her this time. She almost whistled out loud. Jake liked to push buttons, but he didn’t like having his pushed, and he didn’t like losing control of any situation. He wouldn’t sleep with her because he was afraid of giving up control to her.
No doubt, that’s also why he didn’t work with a partner. You never had complete control over someone else’s actions.
>
Sierra felt like she’d just figured out a very important secret. Now all she had to do was decide how to use it to her advantage.
Chapter Five
Thick smoke choked him. Jake rubbed his eyes and tried to see through the haze. Fear clawed his belly, driving him further into the building.
“Katherine!” The heat from the blaze instantly scorched his throat. He yelled her name again, the smoke clouding his vision. She was in here. Helpless. She couldn’t die this way. She shouldn’t be here. It was his fault she was.
Where was she? If only he could see past the wall of gray. If only he could breathe.
Jake gulped in air and sat up. Sweat soaked the sheets. He shoved them aside and slid from the bed. After pulling on a pair of jeans, he headed for the kitchen. Sierra’s door was tightly closed. Darkness still enveloped the cabin.
He glanced at his watch. Six a.m. Time to rise anyway. He started a pot of coffee, disengaged the alarm, then walked out onto the front porch, hoping to shake off the affects of the nightmare. Strange that he hadn’t had the dream in a while. Sierra’s presence was the reason. She made him nuts.
He leaned on the porch rail and listened to the quiet chirp of the crickets. Last night’s events played over in his head. The feel of Sierra’s supple body beneath him. The kiss. The hot hungry look in her brown eyes.
Cool air washed over his damp body, yet it did nothing to chill him. Her parting comment had wormed its way beneath his skin more than he cared to admit.
He shouldn’t have pushed her to acknowledge her fear. Yet, the thought of her having such a common female phobia of snakes, when she put on such a tough act, had startled him.
The knowledge also brought home the fact she hid her emotions pretty well.
Just like him.
Just like Katherine had. And Katherine had been so independent. He’d known that from the beginning, but she’d expected him to just compartmentalize their relationship. He’d tried, but in the end, he instinct to protect someone he cared about had backfired.