The Cinderella Mission

by Catherine Mann

  He hated the helplessness of the situation, waiting for the chip to activate once Aunt Eugenie reported them missing. There wasn’t a damned thing he could do to get them out. The inky darkness posed countless hazards, even if they somehow made it up the slope without releasing an avalanche of rubble. Too many sheer drop-offs waited on the trail back.

  On his own, he’d chance it. But the risk was too great to gamble with Kelly in tow.

  Give him an enemy to bag. A crook to down. A target to shoot. Anything but depending on fate and luck to pull them through when he knew fate could be a heartless bastard.

  Kelly’s light laugh broke through the darkness. She paused midstory, somewhere around dyeing eggs or baking cookies. “As much as I’m sure you’re enjoying hearing the details of my fifth Easter, maybe I should teach you some meditation instead. We could alternate power naps.”

  Ethan massaged his aching arm. At least the pain would keep him awake. “I need to stay alert.”

  “Or we could take turns keeping watch.”

  “Okay. I’ll go first.”

  “Mule.” She slugged his arm.

  He stifled a wince along with a curse. He didn’t need her turning into Florence Nightingale on him since there wasn’t a thing she could do to help him anyway. “What kind of cookies were they?”

  “Sugar cookies. Cut out shapes with colored spr-sprinkles.” Her chattering teeth clacked through the last word.

  Knowing he would regret it, he called to her, “Come here.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s only going to get colder.”

  “I’m f-fine.”

  And the little pit bull dared call him stubborn! He rolled out the only excuse he could conjure that would lure her into accepting what she needed. “Well, good for you, but I’m freezing my ass off over here.”

  “Oh.” Rustling sounded from a few feet away as she scrambled closer. “Ethan?”

  “Right here.”

  Her hand landed in his lap. No chance she would miss the furnace of heat there. Damned inconvenient that the libido didn’t turn off even in life-threatening situations. Just the opposite. His body screamed procreate before you die.

  Kelly’s hand slid away. He stifled a groan, tougher than withholding sound when she’d slugged his arm. He tucked his good arm around her and drew her closer until she dropped between his legs. He locked his arms around her waist and tucked her back against his chest. Her bottom nestled against him.

  No way could she miss the obvious.

  “Uh, Ethan?”

  “Ignore it, Kelly. I am.” Not.

  “Maybe we should talk about—”

  “Nope. Don’t think so.” He had enough trouble resisting her voice when she talked about Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. He’d damn well explode if she switched to discussions about his too-obvious arousal. “Let’s move on to Halloween number five.”

  “Tell me about yours instead.”

  Her question sideswiped him. Leave it to Kelly to zero in on his first holiday without his parents. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on Hatch’s mysterious file about their deaths.

  He’d thought he’d squelched the pain from their accident years ago. But now that he had reason to believe it wasn’t just an accident, old ghosts of the past came back to bite him on the butt when he least expected. As soon as he closed this case, he would make it his personal mission in life to find out what the hell had really happened that day.

  “Ethan?” Kelly pulled him back to dank, cold present. “Your fifth Halloween?”

  He slammed the door on the past and focused on surviving in the present. “Just like any other one, lots of popcorn balls and Pixie Stix.”

  “No fair.” She sagged back against him, her hair tickling his nose. Deprived of light, Ethan found his other senses honing tenfold by the second. The scent of her. The feel of her softness.

  The sound of her. Especially that.

  “Come on, Ethan. I told you all about the year Mom dressed me up like a mini Marie Curie. At least tell me what you wore.”

  “I was a clown.”

  “A clown?” Her breathing evened out against his chest in a reassuring pattern.

  Good. She was relaxing. If he kept talking, maybe she’d fall asleep.

  “I wanted to be a cowboy, but Aunt Eugenie had already flown to Paris and bought me this renaissance clown costume.” He’d been so hell-bent on not causing her any trouble so she would keep him, he hadn’t argued. He’d just slapped on the pointy hat and trick-or-treated his bells off.

  “I’d love to see the pictures.”

  “They all magically disappeared the next year when I dressed up as Houdini.” He’d wanted as few memories as possible of those first months without his parents.

  Kelly traced a finger along his hands linked over her belly. “So was Houdini your choice or Aunt Eugenie’s?”

  “Mine. Of course she made sure I had some kick-ass tricks to go along with the costume.” He’d realized by then she wasn’t going to send him anywhere. She might not have been the most conventional of parents, but then he’d have driven a conventional parent to the nuthouse inside a year. “The lock pick and handcuffs were a huge hit for this CIA agent in the making.”

  Kelly’s yawn echoed. “What else did little Houdini do?”

  “Let’s just say I’m not sure Peter ever got over the chemicals I put in his oils.”

  “Poor Peter.” Her finger slipped up past the cuff of his jacket. “What kind of chemicals?”

  Who’d have thought a wrist could be an erogenous zone. Of course, his whole body felt like one big erogenous zone at the moment. “Stuff that changed colors the warmer it got. He walked around with blue hands for a month.”

  Kelly’s whisper-soft laughter filled the cavern, swirled round and came back to tempt him with every echoing repetition.

  She snuggled under his chin. “I’m so glad she was there for you when you lost your parents.”

  “I was lucky. She stepped in full tilt to take care of me. Strange to think she was my age then, bringing up a five-year-old hellion. My parents didn’t even make thirty-five.” Neither did Celia. His arms convulsed around Kelly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “I’m not afraid of dying.” Her fingers wrapped around his wrist with surprising strength from a woman who’d seemed three seconds from snoozing off. “Just afraid of dying without making a difference.”

  “Damn it, Kelly.” He gripped her shoulders and twisted her round until she sat sideways on his lap and could face him, even if he couldn’t see her. “You’re not going to die. And you’ve already made a difference or Hatch wouldn’t have promoted you to this job.”

  Determination radiated from her in waves so strong he almost expected it to light the air. How had he ever thought her timid?

  Her hand fell to his hair. “I wish you could let it grow again. Will you do that, after we’re out of here?”

  “Sure.” He’d promise her anything right now to give her hope—and if she’d keep touching him.

  Kelly feathered her fingers along his scalp. “There are so many things I wanted to do with my life and I’m just sitting here wondering if I was making excuses to keep from going after what I want.”

  “What do want, Kelly?” He’d make it happen.

  “I want you.”

  Those three simple words wielded a sledgehammer to his already diminishing self-control. Thoughts of losing his parents, losing Celia, possibly losing Kelly, too, had left him too damned aware of how precarious life was. Even on a good day he didn’t excel at denying himself.

  And this sure as hell wasn’t a good day.

  “Kelly.” He savored her name a second before he savored her lips, savored the taste of peppermint and Kelly.

  Her soft moan echoed through their darkened chamber. The world closed in on them. There might never be anyone else if they didn’t get out of this alive.

  Ethan anchored her to him as if that would keep her safer. Her
tongue met his with more confidence this time than in the greenhouse. She’d taken note of how he liked it when she slid those soft hands under his shirt, around to his back. Even gloved, her touch aroused.

  But he wanted to feel undiluted Kelly under his hands. He tore his mouth away to tug his gloves off with his teeth.

  “Ethan?”

  He was back to her before she could finish her protest, a smart move since just the sound of her voice charged his libido too much, too soon. He nestled her more securely on his lap, felt the warmth of her soft hip against him, wanted to plunge into her softness but knew this wasn’t the time or place. For now, he had other plans for her. Starting with memorizing every inch of her he could touch in their constraining clothes.

  Ethan tunneled his hands under her jacket, higher, over skin so silky he could almost see its pearly color. Higher still until he found her breasts. The taut peaks welcomed him, teasing him with what he couldn’t see but damned well intended to explore.

  Kelly swung her knee around until she straddled him. Ethan’s hands shook, not that he let it stop him from finding his way into denim to cup her bottom.

  “Ethan?” Silky tones caressed the air.

  Her voice. God, what a voice.

  “Yeah, Kel?”

  “Please say you have protection in your wallet.”

  He did. But they weren’t going to get in a position to need it. He wasn’t so far gone that he’d lost sight of keeping her safe. “We’re not going to do anything.”

  A small whimper of protest slipped free.

  “I have something else in mind for you.”

  “What—”

  “Shh.” He silenced her with his mouth, or maybe it was the stroke of his fingers gliding forward in her jeans, flicking her snap and zipper free to give him easier access lower. Much lower where he discovered her hot, wet, ready.

  For him.

  The surge of victory made his self-denial worthwhile. “Kelly?”

  “Don’t talk. Don’t stop.”

  An easy enough order to follow. He sought, found, circled with two fingers, her breathy sighs guiding him until he learned her pace. He stroked, soothed, teased her closer, the increasing pressure of her hands digging into his shoulders offering all the encouragement he needed.

  A moan started low in her throat. Heaven help him, he should have known she would be vocal. That incredible voice of hers so perfect in her pleasure. Hearing her desire build was the hottest damned thing he’d ever experienced and he hadn’t even had sex with her yet.

  Yet?

  Yet.

  Her back arched against his supporting arm. Her cry rolled up and out of her throat with a force that charged through him, leaving him conversely physically frustrated and mentally satisfied. Before the echoes of Kelly all around him faded, she collapsed against his chest.

  Soft, pliant and for the moment—his.

  Kelly rested in Ethan’s arms, her world hazy until she could only be certain of one thing. The guy wasn’t budging on the issue of completing what they’d started. The pig-headed, honorable man had it in his head he would be taking advantage of the adrenaline from danger.

  Like she didn’t know her own mind.

  Of course, until about fifteen minutes ago, she hadn’t known her body could feel so incredible. She wanted more than ever to get out alive. Now. So they could finish what he’d started. She’d been right to pursue Ethan.

  He tucked her closer to his side. “So tell me how you got that tattoo.”

  Peppermint-scented words drifted down.

  “Single-minded son-of-a-gun, aren’t you?”

  “Focused.”

  And she’d benefited well from his focused attention on her. “You may have noticed I’m not the most outgoing of people,” she stated. He stayed diplomatically silent while his hands stroked over her back. “Well, once I started college, I decided the time had come to assume control over my life. I was hell-bent on doing something daring. So I packed an overnight bag, and took a bus to Reno.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “And got a tattoo.”

  “Eventually, but that wasn’t my original intent.” The dark made it too easy to slip back to that time, to relive the frenzy that had driven her to lash out in rebellion since she couldn’t tell her parents she was tired of trying to be the perfect daughter they wanted. Seemed ridiculous now, but so very real then. “I planned to go to the casinos and pick up a guy.”

  He stilled against her, so silent only the sound of his heart thudded in her ears.

  “Stupid, I know. Don’t worry, I chickened out in the end and realized I was doing it for all the wrong reasons. After I lost fifty bucks, I decided I was going to have something out of that weekend. So I spent my last forty on a tattoo.”

  Ethan raised her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her wrist. “You still haven’t told me what it is.” The heat of his words branded her skin.

  “I wasn’t going to get a rose or the cute little mouse they tried to sell me. I was out to make a statement.”

  Ethan’s laugh rumbled against her chest. “I’ve found from experience that when you decide to speak up, it’s impossible not to listen.”

  She wished she’d had that power then. Kelly scratched her fingers through the dirt beside her. “I know now it was just a knee-jerk reaction. I was striking back at my parents for years of pressure. Sort of like how I tossed on a few extra layers of sweaters and pitched out my lip gloss after the attack. I needed to regain control of some portion of my world.”

  “Whoa.” Ethan’s hand found her leg and squeezed. “Back up. Attack?”

  Had she told him that? She hadn’t meant to, didn’t want that between them or in his mind when he thought of her. She wasn’t a victim anymore and refused to let anybody think of her as one. “Oh, uh, I guess I left out that part.”

  “Yeah, you did.” His grip tightened on her. “Kelly, what attack?”

  She knew he wouldn’t back off until she told him. What he imagined was probably worse anyhow. “My ancient languages professor in grad school. I was so young, only twenty when I started graduate school and beyond innocent. I didn’t have a clue what he was after until it was too late. There were eleven other people in that class, nine of us women, and for some reason he targeted me. I guess I didn’t realize guys like that prey upon vulnerability more than beauty.”

  A burning need blistered Ethan’s brain, a need to escort that son-of-a-bitch straight to hell and then spend a few years torturing him.

  Before he killed him.

  He needed to lash out at the person who’d dared hurt her. He hadn’t been able to fight the disease that had ravaged Celia, but the threat to Kelly had been tangible. Real.

  Soon to be in pain, if Ethan ever got his hands on the guy.

  Ethan regulated his breathing, tucked those dark thoughts away and focused on what Kelly needed. “Talk to me. Tell me everything.”

  His arms tightened around Kelly as if he could protect her from that long-ago threat.

  Long ago? Just four years.

  “Most of all, I hated the lack of control. Other than a powerful set of lungs, I was pretty much at his mercy. But the minute I convinced him to stop covering my mouth, campus security heard me scream.”

  The thought of her beautiful voice racked with terror sliced him clean through. But he couldn’t let that show now. He swallowed bile. “Did you ever talk to anyone about this?”

  “I am now.”

  “I mean before now.”

  “Why?” Her hair tickled his chin as she tipped her face toward him. “He didn’t actually, uh, penetrate. I’m still totally a virgin.”

  While Ethan thanked heaven and a thousand patron saints that the cops had showed up in time, he still knew she had to carry some emotional scars. “You were attacked. Whether or not he,” Ethan blinked back the red haze of anger, “penetrated, he assaulted you and you deserved to have support.”

  “It was his word against mine, so there wasn’t
much chance of a conviction in court. But I put enough pressure on campus for him to retire early. I took self-defense courses.” A whisper of a laugh escaped. “Bet you didn’t know about my edge that day in the gym.”

  “No.” But he admired her for using it.

  “I’ve done everything in my power to make sure I can defend myself.”

  The woman hadn’t joined ARIES to see the world. She’d done it out of self-preservation. They had more in common than he could have ever guessed. “You’re an amazing woman, Kelly Taylor.”

  She laughed. “Who me? I’m just a farm girl from Nebraska who knows what she wants from life and finally has decided to go after it.”

  Left unspoken were the words now understood.

  She wanted him.

  And he knew.

  He couldn’t be with this woman because it would mean something. If he let himself crawl into her bed and slide into her body, he might well want to stay. The thought of giving anyone that much control over his emotions again sent his heart pounding so hard she must hear it.

  A hum started. Flickerings in front of his eyes with a second’s warning before light flooded their hellhole of a cavern.

  The power had returned.

  And in the middle of hell, a halo of light streamed across Kelly’s dirt-smudged face. Hair straggled over her eyes, chocolate-warm eyes that called to a man when shining from the face of this so-damned-pretty woman. A woman he didn’t dare claim, because he knew something she didn’t.

  He could stand down a renegade drug runner packing heat without wincing. But when it came to giving his heart, Ethan Williams was a coward.

  Wrapped in an Aztec-patterned blanket, Kelly pumped her canewood rocker into motion in the back room of Clyde’s store while the last rays of the day filtered through the frost-speckled window. What thoughts churned behind Ethan’s stark face, the hard lines illuminated by tauntingly romantic firelight? Her own emotions still swirled with a mix of passion and the adrenaline buzz of having survived death.