B008DKAYYQ EBOK

by Joyce Lamb

  She ran her hands over his bare chest, fascinated by the silken texture that sheathed hard muscles, the heat that emanated from him. He took her breath away.

  “If witness protection isn’t a done deal, like you said,” he lowered his head to kiss the hollow of her throat, “maybe we’ve got forever.”

  She arched when he skimmed a hand over her midriff and eased it under the waistband of her shorts.

  “I want forever,” he said, touching her, stroking her.

  Her body went taut with the first onslaught of sensation, and she wound her arms around his neck, pulling him down so she could kiss him. Their tongues tangled, teased, taunted.

  “Tell me you want forever,” he said against her mouth.

  The ache was building already. It stunned her how easy it was with him. The sweetness of it actually hurt.

  “Tell me,” he demanded, drawing her shorts off and then his own.

  “I want forever. I want everything.”

  He sank into her, and she gasped. He took her fast, driving her up while she clung to him, carried away by the waves of pleasure that gathered more force with each thrust.

  When she was gasping and straining, eager for the final, violent swell, he slowed the pace, kissing away her pleas, his breathing labored as he rested his forehead against hers.

  “Hold onto me,” he said.

  “I am.”

  “Don’t let go.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Promise me you won’t let go.”

  “I promise.”

  He gathered her to him and moved, ever so slowly, ever so sweetly at first, then faster, harder.

  The crest hit her.

  She let go.

  Chapter 45

  “Payne Kincaid and Dixon Ramsey,” said Agent Brett Sark of the U.S. Customs and Border Protection. His eyes, an almost unnaturally light shade of brown, rested coolly on James. “That’s quite an offer.”

  James nodded. He was sweating his ass off, but he couldn’t help it. Scared shitless didn’t come close to describing his fear. If this pitch flopped, he was dead. Deader than dead. He knew better than to believe that Ramsey wanted him as a partner. Ramsey’s idea of a hostile takeover most likely included killing anyone he considered a threat, and that would include James, who knew far too much about Kincaid’s operation and had everything to gain by going to the feds. Yes, he feared for his family. But he had to do something right, and he prayed that the federal government could protect them.

  Of course, he didn’t feel especially safe himself, sitting in this cramped and stuffy FBI office. Sark was perched on the edge of the metal desk in front of him, and the woman—she had introduced herself as FBI Special Agent Kathleen Quinn—sat with her elbows on her desk and her hands clasped before her. Neither of them seemed especially concerned about the idea that dangerous people could be gunning for him.

  More than anything, the window at his back made him nervous. The view of anyone looking in would be blocked by a big green bush, but that wouldn’t stop someone working for Ramsey from shooting through the glass anyway.

  Focus. Just focus. “Kincaid and Ramsey are just the start,” he said.

  “And you can guarantee this,” Sark said, his skepticism clear. The man had circles under his eyes that were three shades darker than his complexion, as if he hadn’t slept in days.

  “Yes.” James managed to sound much more confident than he felt. “I know enough about Kincaid and his operation to put him away forever.”

  “Your testimony won’t be enough,” Sark said. “You have a credibility issue.”

  “I’ll wear a wire so you can hear all about it in his own words.”

  Sark narrowed his eyes. “And you’re offering this in exchange for a walk.”

  “That’s right.”

  The woman cleared her throat. “And what exactly would you be walking away from, James?”

  He drew in a ragged breath. This is it. He was either about to save his own butt or cut his own throat. “When I take Kincaid down, he’ll try to take me with him.”

  “What does he have on you?” Sark asked.

  James preferred dealing with the redhead. She at least appeared interested in what he had to say, her dark brown eyes compassionate. Sark just stared at him with cold, dead eyes, as if he suspected that every word James uttered was a lie. “Among other things, I set up the deals between him and people who wanted to get their goods in and out of the country.”

  “What kinds of goods?”

  James reined in his impatience. Surely they already knew this information. Why else would he have been directed to these two federal agents in particular? “You name it. Animals, drugs, ivory tusks, diamonds, weapons, stolen art. The only cargo Kincaid refused to move was humans.”

  “How noble of him,” Sark said flatly. “You said ‘among other things.’ What else did you do for him?”

  “Sometimes I drove the trucks that delivered the smuggled goods to the client.”

  “What else?”

  “That’s it.”

  “You ever take anybody out for him?”

  “Like on a date?” James knew what Sark meant, but he was feeling surly enough to piss the agent off. Leaning forward, he said, “I’m here to hand you the biggest smuggling network in Southwest Florida. Not just the big cheese, but the entire freaking network. Why? Because if you don’t take the whole thing down, my family will never be safe. Take it or fucking leave it, but don’t waste my time.”

  Sark stared him down for almost a full minute before he stood and began to button his suit jacket. “All right, Mr. Chase. You’ve got a deal. We’re going to want to videotape what you’ve got to say.”

  James shook his head. “I’m not saying it just yet. Not until my sister and son are someplace safe.”

  “They’re both already in safe houses,” Special Agent Quinn said.

  That shocked him “Bailey is in a safe house? When did that happen and how do you know about it?”

  “She was in here yesterday,” Quinn said.

  A new, paralyzing fear gripped James. “How much does she know?”

  Sark and Quinn exchanged a look, which James interpreted to mean “she knows a lot.”

  Sark took a breath. “Mr. Chase—”

  “I want Bailey and Austin together,” James cut in. “Out of the state.”

  Sark scowled. “That’ll take too much time—”

  “Then I want Bailey briefed on what’s going down.” He’d kept her in the dark long enough, and it hadn’t worked out very well. No way was he going to make that mistake again, especially considering what she had to be feeling right now. Betrayal. Anger. She wouldn’t sit back and let it go.

  Sark tried again. “If she’s in a safe house—”

  “She has to know what’s happening,” James said, “so she’ll stay away. I don’t want her walking in on it while your guys are taking Kincaid down.” And if Ramsey gets to me before I get to him, Austin’s going to need her.

  Sark leaned his hands on the desk, putting himself nose to nose with James. “Let’s get something straight here, Mr. Chase. This is a massive investigation. I’ll be damned if I’m going to risk compromising it by broadcasting to a journalist that the federal government is preparing to take down a major smuggling operation.”

  “Bailey’s in or I’m out,” James said, his jaw set.

  “If she’s in a safe house, she’s not going anywhere,” Quinn offered.

  James looked at her, and his heart was racing. “You don’t know my sister.”

  Chapter 46

  Cole didn’t want to move. Ever. He wanted to stay like this, with Bailey naked and damp in his arms, limp with satisfaction and struggling to catch her breath. The thought of losing her infuriated him. No fucking way was he letting her go.

  He nuzzled her neck, gratified when she pressed a soft kiss to his temple.

  “So when you said ‘don’t let go’ …”

  He smiled, closing his eyes as his h
eart seemed to turn over in his chest. “I meant don’t let go of me. The other kind of letting go was just fine.”

  She sighed, her hands moving over his back in a continuing caress, as if she couldn’t get enough of touching him. “Fine seems like such an inadequate word for what that was.”

  “Fantastic?”

  “Stupendous.”

  He chuckled. “Earth-shaking.”

  “Oh, that’s a good one. My earth feels unquestionably shaken. And quite a bit stirred.”

  “Bonus.”

  “Most definitely.” The tips of her fingers paused against his back, and he knew what she’d focused on. “This scar here. Is that from when you were shot?”

  “Yes.” When her shudder vibrated against him, he drew her closer. “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “How could getting shot not be that bad?”

  “As far as getting shot is concerned, it wasn’t that bad. No muscle damage. The worst part was the blood loss. And the searing pain, of course.”

  “How macho of you.”

  Shifting off of her so that he lay on his side beside her, he propped his head on his hand and gazed down at her. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and he was certain he didn’t think that just because he had fallen for her. Or maybe he did. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was his. And he planned to make damn sure she stayed his. Forever.

  He smiled, wanting to smooth away the concerned furrow in her brow. “You already know how macho I am. I carried you up a flight of stairs, remember?”

  “How could I forget? That, of course, is not the same as getting shot.” Rolling from her back onto her side so that she faced him, she asked, “How did it happen?”

  He slid his hand over her shoulder, down her arm, then stroked the backs of his knuckles over the tip of her breast, smiling at the instant flush that rushed into her cheeks. “Your skin is so soft. I love touching you.”

  She batted his hand away. “As much as I’m enjoying that, it’s not fair to try to distract me. Fess up.”

  “I stormed in on a prostitute and her very skittish john.”

  Horror widened her green eyes.

  “I thought I could wrestle her away from the bad guy and save the day. Bad guy had a gun.”

  “Oh my God.”

  He smiled, leaning forward to kiss her. “I survived, Bailey. I’m here.”

  “You could have been killed.”

  “There’s tons of evidence to show that I wasn’t.”

  She gave him a slight smile, moving her hand so that it settled on his bare hip. “That there is. So why did you storm in on them?”

  “I knew the woman. I’d interviewed her several times for a project I was working on.”

  “You knew she was a prostitute?”

  “She’d actually quit for a while. To have a baby.”

  The anxiety that had wrinkled her forehead returned. “Oh.”

  “Not mine,” he said quickly.

  She laughed. “I didn’t think so.”

  “Okay, good. You had a look.”

  “I was just thinking about what kind of life that baby must have.”

  He put his hand over hers on his hip, squeezed her fingers. “You’ll always be the caretaker, won’t you?”

  She smiled slightly. “Maybe.”

  “He has a good home now. He was adopted.”

  “His mother gave him up?”

  “She OD’d.”

  “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”

  He eased onto his back, drawing her with him so that she rested partially across his torso. He reveled in the feel of her soft breasts pressed against his chest. “She made her choices,” he said.

  “But you cared about her.”

  “I don’t know that I cared about her so much as I cared about what she represented.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I wanted her to be different.”

  “From what?”

  “From what she was. What I knew.” He lowered his chin so he could see her face more clearly. She was listening intently, and he brushed hair out of her eyes, amused that her gaze flickered, as if the tender gesture surprised her. “She managed to be different for a while,” he said. “It looked like she was going to turn her life around. She seemed to love that baby more than anything. My expectations were way too high.”

  “Did you equate her with your mother?”

  “In a way. Mostly, I wanted her to prove that there are women in the world who aren’t like my mother … or my wife.”

  Bailey sat up faster than what seemed possible. “Wife?”

  “Ex-wife,” he amended. Then grinned. “Wow. That was unexpected.”

  She narrowed her eyes, not amused. “What?”

  “How furious you just looked. Like you’d take her out and gut her to get her out of your way.”

  “Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of how I might gut you if you turned out to be married.”

  He reared up and kissed her, but she pushed him back. “I want to hear more about your wife.”

  “Ex-wife.”

  “That doesn’t change my desire to know about her. Or perhaps kick her butt for hurting you. Where is she?”

  “Last I heard, she lived in San Diego. We don’t keep in touch.”

  “How long ago were you divorced?”

  “Four years.”

  “Why did you break up?”

  “She had an abortion without telling me first.”

  Bailey was still, not even breathing, as she added everything up. “Oh.”

  The sorrow in her eyes made him glance away, and when he spoke again, his voice was gruff. It amazed him how much it still hurt. “I made the mistake of crying on Daniel’s shoulder about it. And he turned around and used it to keep me away from you.”

  “I don’t understand why he felt he had to do that.”

  “He was afraid I’d find out the truth about what he did to you and rat him out to our friends.”

  “He worried for nothing. I never told anyone except A.J.”

  “I’d like to think that you would have told me eventually,” he said.

  “I’m sure I would have.”

  To his relief, she wriggled back into his arms, dropping a light kiss on his chest. “Your ex-wife was a fool. She didn’t deserve you. And I’m sorry for what she did. The world should be populated with hundreds of little Coles.”

  Smiling, he rolled her under him, burying his hands in her hair. “That sounds like an awfully worthy goal for us.”

  Pain clouded her features, and he knew she was thinking of what would happen if witness protection entered the picture. Before she could respond, his cell phone rang, and they both flinched.

  Cole snagged it from the bedside table. “Cole Goodman.”

  “Mr. Goodman, this is Keisha Starr with Senator Waters’ office.”

  “Yes, hello.” They’d spoken several times when he’d arranged interviews with the senator for news stories.

  “I’m calling because Senator Waters has an important announcement to make, and he’d like to meet with you this afternoon if you’re available.”

  Cole glanced at Bailey, who watched him curiously. “Uh, can you be more specific?”

  “The Florida attorney general is filing insider-trading charges against the senator in the morning.”

  “I see.” He shifted away from Bailey to sit on the side of the bed, where he checked his watch. “What time would he like to meet?”

  “How would four o’clock work for you?”

  He hesitated, his gaze fastened on Bailey, who was sitting up next to him, the sheet clasped over her bare breasts. He didn’t like the idea of leaving her alone. “Is the senator asking for me specifically or can he meet with another Sun reporter?” Cole asked.

  “The senator asked to speak to you exclusively. He felt the story you wrote about him last week was fair and objective. This is going to be a big story, Mr. Goodman. Senator Waters wants to make sure his side
is reported responsibly, with no expectations of special treatment, of course.”

  “I’ll see what I can arrange and get back to you.” He clicked off the call.

  “What’s going on?” Bailey asked.

  “Attorney general’s going to file insider-trading charges against Senator Waters.”

  “Holy cow. And the senator wants you to break the story. You have to go.”

  He shook his head. “Someone else can do it.”

  “Cole, you have to go. This is a huge deal.”

  “You’re more important.”

  “And I’ll be fine here by myself. There are federal agents right outside.”

  He cupped her face in his hands, kissed her. “I’m not leaving you here alone.”

  She circled his wrists with her fingers. “It’ll be for, what, a couple of hours? Come on.” She smiled. “I could use the sleep.”

  “You just slept until 1:15.”

  “And I’m already exhausted from all the activity.” Pulling away, she got out of the bed and drew her shirt over her head. “There’s just one thing I want you to do before you go.”

  He watched her as she lifted her dark blond hair out of the collar and let it fall over her shoulders. He wondered if he would ever get used to the gyrations inside his chest when he looked at her. “What’s that?” he asked.

  “Please, please, please, feed me.”

  Chapter 47

  “You had sex.”

  Bailey laughed at A.J.’s exclamation. She’d gotten up from a long nap less than ten minutes ago and called her friend on Cole’s cell phone, which he had tossed to her on his way out. “In case you want to call A.J. and talk about me while I’m gone.”

  “All I did was say hi,” Bailey said to A.J. as she rinsed a dish and set it in the wooden drainer next to the sink.

  “I can hear it in your voice.”

  “You cannot.”

  “Oh, yes, I can. Are you still hiding out?”

  “Yep.”

  “At least you’ve been well entertained.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “It’s not nice to sound so smug, you know.”

  Chuckling, Bailey washed the remaining suds down the drain and shut off the water. “Sorry. I can’t help it.”