by Cassie Miles
“And now?”
“You’re sensitive enough.” And sexier than she wanted to admit. “The problem is that I don’t know you well enough to form much of an opinion.”
“Fine,” he said. “Ask your questions.”
“You said you were once in love. Tell me about that.”
“I was a first-year law student,” he said. “She was my professor. Beautiful and tough, she was the smartest person I’ve ever known. I couldn’t stay away from her.” He sighed. “I wanted to be with her, even after she told me about her illness.”
His voice had deepened, lending weight to his words.
“What did she have?” Carolyn asked.
“An inoperable brain aneurysm. For most of her life, she faced the knowledge that she could die at any moment. We lived together for six months. Then she was gone.”
The tragedy was still with him. She could feel his sorrow. “I’m sorry, Burke.”
“I dropped out of law school and joined the Chicago P.D. Stayed there for five years. My mom was killed in a car accident, and I moved to the FBI.” He shrugged. “That’s it. My life story.”
A story of love and loss. No wonder he was so guarded. “How did you become a hostage negotiator?”
“The FBI decided that’s where I fit. You’ll have to ask profilers, like Smith and Silverman, for the psychological details.”
She didn’t need more explanation. He’d trusted her. He’d shared his past. And that was enough.
Through the windshield, she saw the lights of the ranch house. Though it was after two o’clock in the morning, someone was still awake. Not Dylan, she hoped. Her brother needed more sleep. “Is Corelli still monitoring the equipment?”
“That’s his job,” Burke said. “He’s listening to the bug I left in Logan’s office. It’ll be interesting to hear what they have to say about Sunny’s disappearance, especially after your conversation with him.”
And Logan’s threat. “I could have handled that better.”
“You did fine.”
She looked toward the house. After this brief reprieve, they were returning to the crucible. Tension tied a knot in her gut. She wanted more respite, wanted to be with Burke, wanted their intimacy to increase. She wanted to spend the rest of the night in the safety of his arms. Am I ready to make love to him? Is he ready?
Carolyn pushed the thought away. “Why did you want to bring the ransom with us?”
“It doesn’t do much good to have the money if we can’t deliver.”
“I’m surprised,” she said. He’d been consistently opposed to handing over the ransom. “You’re thinking of paying the kidnappers?”
“Only if there’s no other way.”
She wouldn’t miss the money. All she wanted was for Nicole to be back home. Safe.
Chapter Fifteen
After they parked, Carolyn followed Burke into the house. He carried the massive backpack over his shoulder. Not exactly a subtle way of transporting the ransom, but it couldn’t be helped. They went immediately to her brother’s office and closed the door. Carolyn knew exactly where to stash the money.
“My father had this safe installed ten years ago,” she said. “We’d had a couple of robberies and he was worried about the amount of cash we keep on hand.”
“Is the safe big enough for this backpack?”
“Oh, yeah.”
She pulled the window curtains tight, remembering the day when her father brought her and Dylan into his office and told them that no one—absolutely no one—was to know the combination to his safe. No one except for Dylan and herself.
Thinking back, she realized that he was probably over-reacting. “Dad wanted a safe that was large enough to hold our cash on hand and the most valuable pieces of art that my mother had picked up.”
“You said that she runs an art gallery in Manhattan, right?”
“Mom has amazing taste. Very expensive taste. For a while, Dad locked up the Gorman sculptures and the paintings by Georgia O’Keefe.” She gestured to a priceless Charles Russell painting of a cowboy roping a steer above the leather couch. “I convinced him that art was supposed to be seen. If he wasn’t going to put those paintings on the wall, he might as well send them to my mom.”
She unfastened two hidden latches on a bookcase. It swung open like a door on well-oiled hinges. The wall safe behind it was five feet tall.
“Excellent,” Burke said. “The money should be safe in there.”
She twirled the combination lock and opened the safe. There was plenty of room inside. As soon as Burke deposited the backpack, she closed the steel door and returned the bookcase to its original position. For now, the million-dollar ransom was secure.
She turned and faced Burke. He leaned against her brother’s desk with his arms folded across his broad chest.
“About those questions you asked in the car,” he said.
“Yes?”
“Did I pass your test?”
“I wasn’t—”
“Sure you were. You’re checking me out, trying to decide what to do about this attraction we’re both feeling. Don’t deny it, Carolyn.”
“It’s what I do,” she said without apology. “I gather information, make decisions and take action.”
“You’re an effective businesswoman. No doubt about that.”
But was she so skillful when it came to more personal decisions? She tried to make an assessment. From the way he conducted his life and the way he coped with his past, she assumed that he was a good man. Decent. Strong. A leader. But not someone she’d look to for a long-term relationship. He definitely wasn’t a man who wanted to settle down and have babies. “You’ve been honest with me.”
“I have.”
His smile drew her closer. There was no logical way to analyze the magnetism between them. She couldn’t explain the sensual shivers that prickled the hairs on her arms. Nor could she deny them. “You’re a man I can trust.”
She approached him, deliberately unfolded his arms and stepped into his embrace. Then, she kissed him.
Without hesitation, he responded. His mouth was hot and demanding. He closed his arms around her, enveloped her, dominated her, held her so tightly that he took her breath away.
Carolyn reeled in his arms, unaccustomed to such fierce passion. Her leg wrapped around his thigh, squeezing hard, rubbing against him. Arousal spread through her like wildfire. She wanted more from him. Demanded it.
He tore off her jacket, discarded it on the floor of the office and peeled off his own. Her hands dove under his black turtleneck and climbed his chest, reveling in the touch of crisp hair and hard muscle. Kissing him again, her arms encircled him. Her fingers clutched at his back.
A deep growl emanated from his throat, and she met that primitive sound with a moan of her own. No more time for thought. Only action.
He swung her around so she was pressed against the desk, and she was glad for the support. He yanked her shirt over her head. In a deft move, he unhooked her bra. He tugged at her barrette and her hair cascaded out of the ponytail.
For a moment he paused. His dark eyes slid over her body, naked from the waist up. “Beautiful,” he murmured.
Slowly and purposefully, he cupped her breasts and lowered his head to suckle at her rose-colored nipples.
Her back arched. She bared her throat as a burst of pleasure exploded inside her.
He went lower, trailing his clever tongue along the center line of her torso. Her belt was open. He unfastened the top button of her jeans.
Breathing hard, she slithered through his grasp and sank to the floor in front of the desk. No way would she be the only person naked in this equation.
“Your shirt,” she growled. “Take it off.”
“You like to give orders.”
“I like to be obeyed.”
When he took off his shirt, she stared, unabashed. Oh yes, he was something else. Big. Strong. Gorgeous.
She lay back on the woven Navajo rug. “N
ow your jeans.”
“You’re going first.”
Teasing, he tugged at her jeans while she made a half-hearted effort to keep them on. This was a battle of wills that she had no intention of winning.
Finally, their clothes were gone. He lowered himself on top of her. The sensation of flesh meeting flesh created a friction unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Burke matched her passion and overwhelmed her.
He drew away from her and reached for his jeans. “I need a condom.”
“It’s okay. I’m on the pill.” In his eyes, she saw a hint of hesitation. “Damn it, Burke. I’m clean. This is the safest sex you’ll ever have.”
“There’s nothing safe about you, lady.”
He was right about that. Nothing safe about either one of them.
Burke hadn’t come to the Carlisle Ranch to make friends, and he never expected to find a lover. Her long, sexy legs wrapped around him. Her arms held him tight. Before he realized what she was doing, she’d rolled over so she was on top, straddling him. In control.
Oh hell, no. He wanted more from her before he reached climax.
He pulled her back down and rolled again. He looked down into her fascinating green eyes. Her lips parted. He covered her mouth with his own, stealing her breath.
She turned her head away. Her body writhed beneath him. “Now,” she demanded.
“Not yet.”
His need had grown to an almost unbearable level, but he intended to make this moment into something she’d remember for the rest of her life. Paying careful, sensual attention to every part of her body, he brought her to the shivering edge of climax.
“Please,” she gasped. “Please, Burke.”
“Since you ask so politely…”
He entered her with a hard thrust. She drew him tighter, tighter. The time for game playing was over. He couldn’t hold back for one more second. Driven by a primal need, the fierce rhythm of their lovemaking raced, fast and furious, until they exploded together.
He collapsed onto the rug beside her, holding her trembling body against him.
There was no need for words.
Finally, he and Carolyn were in total agreement.
Gradually he became aware of the reality of their surroundings. They were lying on a woven rug on a hard floor. The air was chilly. He kissed the top of her head. Her black hair was soft and smelled like spring flowers. “Carolyn?”
She responded with a muffled sound and snuggled closer.
“Carolyn, are you asleep?”
He separated from her and looked down. Her eyes were closed. A contented smile curved her lips. He studied her face in a way she’d never allow if she’d been awake and scrappy. In the smooth curve of her forehead he saw innocence and sweetness. The stubborn jut of her chin relaxed as she slept. She was a pretty woman, extremely pretty. But he preferred Carolyn when she was awake and full of fire.
He stood and gently lifted her from the floor. Though she shifted in his arms, she gave no sign of waking up. He placed her on the leather sofa and covered her with an afghan. Later he’d figure out a way to get her up to her own bed.
In moments he was dressed. He wished he had more time to stay with Carolyn. Spending the night in her arms would be sheer luxury.
But he had work to do.
In the dining room, he found Corelli hunched over his bank of computers. In spite of the hour, the only sign that Corelli was frazzled was the loosening of the knot on his necktie.
“Have you gotten any sleep?” Burke asked.
“Catnaps,” Corelli replied. “I only require four hours a night.”
Burke understood. He was much the same way. During the course of a job like this, he stayed pumped on adrenaline and coffee. Afterwards, he’d keel over and sleep for twenty-four hours. “What have you heard on the bug in Logan’s office?”
“A lot,” Corelli said. “If you want, I can play back every conversation.”
“Give me a summary.”
“The SOF mounted a search for Sunny. They have no clue that you were involved in her rescue, but Logan was quick to blame Carolyn. He said she was a bad influence who probably put the thought of running away in Sunny’s mind. Then he called off the search. Their assumption is that she’s here at the ranch.”
Which validated what Carolyn had told him after her phone conversation with Logan. Burke hadn’t planned on taking Sunny to the hospital. But that move might have turned out to be a stroke of good fortune. “Tell me more.”
“Apparently, there’s discontent among the other women. Several of them—especially those with children—want out.”
Burke would do his best to accommodate their wishes. If he could get the innocents away from Logan, there might be a chance to get inside the SOF and search for Nicole. “Any talk of the kidnapping?”
“Not a word,” Corelli said. “The major topic of conversation is a big delivery. They’re real careful not to say what it is. Even among themselves, they call it the Big D.”
“A reference to whatever they’re smuggling.” Big D sounded like drugs, but the whole need for secrecy along a mountain pass and trail made him think of something larger. “I want you to interface with Logan’s computer and find out more.”
“Already done.” Corelli permitted himself a grin. “Logan has been corresponding with other survivalist groups, similar to the Sons of Freedom.”
“Meaning insignificant.”
“Correct. These are small enclaves in remote areas of Texas, Arizona and Montana. None of them pop up on FBI surveillance records, but taken all together they form a network. My best guess is that they’re smuggling illegal weaponry and drugs.”
“Information that needs to be reported.”
“Yes, sir,” Corelli said.
An organized network of survivalists involved in smuggling was something the FBI—and several other government agencies—would be interested in. But Burke’s main concern was Nicole’s safety. “When the time is right, we’ll pass this information along. For now. Our focus is the kidnap victim.”
“Understood.” Corelli looked toward a flashing light on his phone bank. “That’s another call from Logan. Should I tell Carolyn or let it go to voice mail?”
“I’ll take it,” Burke said. He held the receiver to his ear and identified himself. “Special Agent J. D. Burke.”
“I want Carolyn,” Logan said.
I’ll bet you do. “You can talk to me.”
There was a moment of silence while Logan considered.
Burke had nothing to say to this ass. Logan had probably kidnapped Nicole. He’d definitely terrorized Sunny and threatened Carolyn. If he acted on that threat, if he so much as touched one hair on her head, Burke would rain terror on this self-important survivalist.
But that wasn’t how he’d been taught as a negotiator. His job was to get Logan talking. He forced a conversational tone. “Let’s talk, Logan. Why did you call?”
“I know you have Sunny at the ranch. I want her back.”
Burke couldn’t really use Sunny as a bargaining chip; there was no way he’d return the new mother and her baby to the SOF compound. But Burke did have something to offer. Logan was expecting a big shipment, and he wouldn’t want the FBI around for that delivery.
“Here’s the deal, Logan. My only concern is Nicole Carlisle’s safety. If you help me find her, I’ll pack up and go, taking the choppers and the searchers with me. You’ll be left in peace.”
“I want Sunny back.”
Burke’s jaw tightened. “She’s not here.”
“You’re lying.”
“Tell me about Nicole.”
“Go to hell, Burke. I’m not scared of you or any of your fed buddies. And you can tell Carolyn that, too. Tell her that I’m holding her personally responsible for Sunny. She knows better than to cross me.”
“Leave her out of this. You’re talking to me now.”
“Then let the consequences rest on your head.”
“What conse
quences?”
“I will have my revenge.”
He hung up before Burke could tell him what real revenge looked like. He pried his tense fingers from the telephone receiver and turned to Corelli. “When is the Big D supposed to happen?”
“Monday night.”
The same night that the ransom was supposed to be delivered. A plan began to form in Burke’s mind.
Chapter Sixteen
The next morning, Carolyn wakened to the full light of morning glaring around the edges of the closed shades in her bedroom. She glanced at the digital clock on her bedside table. Ten thirty-seven? She seldom slept this late.
The need to get moving warred with a contented lassitude—the aftermath of last night’s incredible passion in the office. How did I get into my bed? She looked under the comforter and saw that she was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. I don’t remember getting dressed.
But she did recall—in spectacular detail—making love to Special Agent J. D. Burke. A happy little sigh escaped her lips as she snuggled deeper under the comforter. A quiver rippled through her, a reminder of Burke’s touch. She licked her lips, imagining that she could still taste him. Behind closed eyes, she saw his muscular chest and arms. His powerful body…
The door to her bedroom crashed open. Dylan charged toward her bed and shook her. “Carolyn, get up.”
In an instant, she went from sweet reverie to full alert. “What is it?”
“Proof of life. We got a videotape. You need to see this.”
She lunged from the bed and grabbed her plaid flannel bathrobe from the hook in the closet. Barefoot, she followed him down the stairs.
In the living room, she saw Corelli hooking up a dusty, old VCR player to the flat-screen television. In a crisp voice, he informed them that nobody used equipment like this anymore. Later, he’d transfer the images to a DVD. But they shouldn’t hope for crystal-clear definition.
“Why not?” Polly demanded as she peeked over his shoulder.
“Twenty-first-century technology doesn’t do me any good when the kidnapper is using stuff that’s decades old. First, a Polaroid photograph. Then a pay phone. Now this.”