by Trisha Telep
“Damn right.” He moved even nearer, still not touching her. “What was that all about Kel? Really kinky, but not really a reunion, surely.”
“Wedding,” Kel reminded him.
“Wedding, reunion, whatever you want to call it,” John said, his voice soft. “You know you didn’t have to knock me out.”
“Would you have let me go off the next morning?”
“You’ll never know now, will you?”
He leaned forward, putting his hands on either arm of her chair, trapping her. His body heat surrounded her and she breathed in his masculine scent. Why was it that the mere mixture of body temperature and chemical essence could heighten all her senses? When he was near her like this, her sight, her sense of smell, her hearing – every part of her – was focused entirely on his being.
“It wasn’t something I wanted to fight over,” she explained, her voice husky. “I had a limited amount of time to spend with you and you were going to ask too many questions.”
“So you had your way with me and just left? Did you know we were going to meet again here, or were you going to wait another three years before contacting me?”
The slight edge in his voice was the only thing that hinted at his mood. Everything else about him was very controlled, as if he had made up his mind not to lose his temper. Kel wouldn’t have expected any less from him; his skill at negotiations was legendary.
And he was in full battle mode now, trying to find the chinks in her armour, looking for a way to invade. He was definitely not going to play hide and seek with her anymore. She had been prepared for this, yet she still felt the tiny flutters of nervousness in the pit of stomach. A big dose of John Dallas after years of starvation wasn’t easy on a woman’s peace of mind.
“There was a chance that I would see you again,” Kel told him, deliberately needling him. She noted the slight narrowing of his dark eyes. “Anyhow, I knew you’d come after me sooner or later, whether it was after your next assignment, or the next, but you wouldn’t have left things as they were. As luck would have it, you were in Pakistan, and easily available for this job in India.”
“As were you,” John remarked in a dry voice, pointing out the convenience of it all.
She smiled at his sarcasm. He was mad because she was right. He would have gone after her, one way or another. “I knew you’d sacrifice something to come here; that was a given.” She had to tease him a little. “Of course, there was a slight chance that you wouldn’t make it, like an act of God, for instance.”
“Or if I had quit.”
Quit the Game? John? She raised an enquiring brow at the notion. “Sorry, that doesn’t compute since our last big quarrel had to do with your loving the game too much. I believe your words were ‘Can’t leave it, darling. Don’t make me choose between you and the Game right now.’ Remember?”
That had hurt. And because it hurt so much, she had pushed him, giving him an ultimatum. It might have been years but the pain of leaving him had stayed with her. What happened next had been an act of God. She had left him, thinking he would follow, and then – as the saying went – shit happened. The choices after that weren’t hers anymore.
He studied her silently and she looked back at him, letting him draw his own conclusions. It wasn’t easy staying one step ahead of him, and she knew that everything she told him would be filed away for later use. John Dallas was a consummate analyst, a necessary trait in the art of negotiation.
She had no doubt that she would have to be very careful. What she needed to do, first of all, was to negotiate a truce of some sort. She had to be prepared for the barrage of questions coming her way and, she admitted, with both trepidation and thrill, to be the target of some very intense attention.
The thrill was easily explained. After all this time, John still made her weak all over. She was so attracted to him, she ached from wanting him. No, she didn’t need to hide how she felt about him; she couldn’t even if she wanted to. All he had to do was lean forward now and kiss her, and she would willingly wrap her legs around him. As she thought about this, he moved even closer, until her only choice was to look into his eyes. Her heartbeat thundered.
“Kiss me,” she whispered softly.
“Not yet,” he told her, just as softly.
“Why?”
His breath was hot against her lips. “Because you keep asking me to remember this and remember that. I want you to remember something else.”
“What’s that?” His proximity was driving her insane. She wanted to pull him closer somehow, but felt paralyzed by the sensuality of his gaze.
“I want you to remember that you asked me to give you more than you were willing to give me. I want you to feel this between us and realize that you gave it up for ambition. You walked away from us because you couldn’t wait. You put distance between us because you were afraid.”
He couldn’t have been more wrong. Kel didn’t blink once through his accusations. Yet there was truth in his wrong conclusions. She forced a small smile.
“How like a man to pick and choose what to remember and what to forget,” she mocked. “Was what I asked so much? And just because I took another position within the organization must mean I did so out of blind ambition and fear, of course. If it were a man you would have said ‘Way to go! Go for it!’ You’re a male chauvinist pig, John Dallas! If I were a man . . .”
“If you were a man, we wouldn’t have been lovers and you wouldn’t have given me an ultimatum!” John retorted.
“If I were a man, we wouldn’t be married,” she finished.
“If you were a man, we wouldn’t have been allowed to marry in front of an imam,” he told her, a small smile tugging his lips. “Now that we’ve established that you aren’t a man, why don’t you tell me exactly why you married me and what is this game we’re playing? Because, you know, it’d help me to understand the situation a whole lot better. Let’s start with us.”
“This is my final assignment,” Kel said, watching his face closely. “I’ve officially asked to be removed from the Temple’s list. It’s was a three-year deal I had with them, and I’ve finished.”
“Your final assignment was . . . to marry me,” John said rhetorically, his tone of voice deceptively casual.
Kel grinned. “No, my final assignment was to find the treasure that Dante wants. But marrying you was the opportunity to bring you close to me.”
He studied her for a minute. “Not once in the last three years, Kel . . .” he began.
“It was part of the deal. No communications. John, I was on the list to be in the top tier and it isn’t easy to quit. Sure, I was ambitious, but you meant more to me.” She took one step towards him. “We aren’t really legally married. It was just my way to tell you how committed I am to be with you. I can still say those magic words to free you.”
“Three years, Kel. Three fucking long years.”
“I know.”
“I can’t forgive that. Not yet.”
“I know.”
There was another short silence. “This last game. How does it figure into your plans?”
“If we win, I’m free,” she told him. “We can be together and there won’t be repercussions. I’ve protected you all along, can’t you see? You think they don’t know you’re passing on information to the government? Don’t be naïve, John.”
“What if we don’t win?”
She knew she had to tell the truth. And she didn’t want to hurt him. “There’s a chance they won’t honour our agreement if I fail to deliver,” she said, then shrugged. “I’ve never thought beyond the promise of us. It’s up to you now. Do you want to take the chance?”
She glanced up quickly and found his dark eyes focused intently on her.
“I’ve always wanted you, Kel, and I don’t intend to let you go. I want to get to know you again. Things have changed; we’ve changed. That I still want you might not be enough.”
“Then let’s leave this decision till we’ve finished the a
ssignment,” Kel suggested. He wanted her. She could make him love her again. “No promises until you’re sure. That’s all I’m asking, John.”
She let the hope shine from her eyes. She wanted him to see how much this meant to her. She wanted time with him. Time to explain. Time to heal. Second chances were so rare and she was going to grasp at hers like a drowning woman after a lifeline.
“You’re so lucky you’re not a man, Mrs Dallas.”
Her heart thundered at his soft words. The look in his eyes made her weak in the knees. Come what may, she’d always treasure this moment.
“So. Since I’m not a man, why are you still talking and not kissing me?”
His eyes narrowed. “Good question,” he murmured, and dipped his head.
The Traitor
Debra Webb
One
Huntsville, Alabama 4.00 a.m.
NASA research engineer Jill Mulroney watched from her hiding place in the woods as the flames devouring her home blazed higher and higher against the dark sky. The first emergency response vehicles had arrived but it was already too late.
The state of the art security system she had purchased upon buying the country home she had dreamed of owning her entire life had failed. Her life – past, present and future – was gone now.
Emotion swelled in her chest, making it difficult to breathe.
There was no one to blame. Not really. This was her fault. She’d trusted the wrong man. She had allowed him inside and he’d taken advantage of her naiveté where matters of the heart were concerned. Here . . . now . . . her only choice had been to deactivate the home security system she’d researched as the best on the market and end it all. Nothing about her existed now.
Jill turned her back on her mistake and picked her way through the woods. The car she’d bought with cash and purposely failed to register waited one mile away on a stretch of long winding road that scarcely anyone used beyond hunting season. Inside she had stashed as much cash as she’d dared to withdraw from her bank account and a few changes of clothes. And one photo. The only one she’d dared to save.
She hadn’t kept a single memento other than the one beloved photo of her and her father. It was all gone now. By dawn her entire life would be mere ashes. Hours would pass before the authorities would realize there were no human remains in the rubble. That was her window of opportunity. She had to use that time to get as far away as possible. Before he and those he represented set out to find her. Eventually she would develop a new identity, find an insignificant job and live an equally insignificant life.
This was the penance for her error.
If she were extraordinarily lucky that would be the only cost. If they found her, she would die. Maybe she deserved to die.
A low tree branch slapped her in the face, knocking her glasses askew. She grimaced and righted her eyewear.
Twenty-nine years old and highly educated. How could she have made such a monumental mistake?
Fury roared inside her. It wasn’t fair! Not fair at all.
But it was her fate.
To protect the agency . . . to protect her country . . . she had no choice but to vanish.
The system she had designed for research – the same one the Pentagon had praised – existed no longer. Mere moments before her home had gone up in flames she had initiated the self-destruct virus via her home computer that by now had corrupted the files related to her prized project at NASA. There would be no resurrecting them. No piecing together the residual traces left behind that more than one federal agency would attempt to sift from the ruins.
It was done. Years of work, billions of potential dollars for NASA’s shaky financial future had gone up in proverbial smoke along with her life.
When her remains were not discovered, her colleagues would hate her. Some would hang on to the theory that she had been abducted along with the project. Others would be certain she had sold out to the enemy.
A traitor.
Her country – the one she had given up everything to protect – would label her a traitor.
Her colleagues would work day and night in an attempt to recreate the system she had destroyed. That was the only part in all of this that she could be proud of. From the beginning, she had understood the implications of her project. Knowing its importance, as well as the fact that it could be exploited by any number of enemies, she had taken precise measures to build in a fail-safe.
Now it was done.
Over.
It would take her peers vast amounts of effort to recreate her work. Perhaps during that time the powers that be would establish better security measures to stop such things ever happening again.
Jill stopped to catch her breath as she neared that stretch of narrow, lonely road. She peered through the dense woods protecting her from view. The cheap little car she’d purchased waited amid the thick brush right where she’d hidden it. Had she not known the exact location she wouldn’t have been able to spot the black vehicle. And it was only the meager moonlight glinting against the roof that allowed her to visually identify it.
All she had to do was cross the road and she would be home free. She would drive as fast and as far as her weary mind would allow. Stopping for a few hours sleep would be necessary, but not in hotels. She didn’t want to be seen by anyone who might remember her when questioned. She’d packed an assortment of snacks and easily opened canned goods, as well as plenty of bottled water, to facilitate her escape. A couple of rolls of toilet paper would delay her need for a bathroom.
She’d gone over every possible scenario.
One final check of the dark road, left then right, and she dashed toward her safety net. She hadn’t decided upon a destination. That part she would play by ear. Far away and obscure were her only requirements at this point.
The humid air, even in late fall and at this hour of the morning, weighted her lungs as she unlocked the driver’s door and slid behind the steering wheel. Relief made her arms and legs weak as she started the engine. Jill closed her eyes and recited the same prayer that had been her mantra for days now.
Please let me escape this nightmare. Let me save the innocent from my mistake.
With a deep breath, she eased out on to the crumbling pavement then pressed down firmly on the accelerator.
The reality of her actions crowded in around her. She could never come back . . . never communicate with her few friends again. Fortunately she had no family. The thought tightened inside her. Not once in her adult life had she considered that fact fortunate.
Until now.
If she’d had any family her actions would have put them in extreme danger.
“Pathetic, Mulroney,” she mumbled.
Her senses went on alert as a shadow in the rearview mirror appeared in the backseat behind her.
Something hard and cold abruptly pressed against the back of her skull.
The dark figure in the rearview mirror penetrated the layers of denial in her brain at the same instant the oxygen exited her lungs.
“Keep driving,” a deep, male voice ordered, “and you might just live through this.”
Two
It was him.
Anger and self-loathing boiled up inside her. How could she have been such a fool? All her life she’d been touted a genius. Ha! If she’d been half as smart as all those professors had proclaimed she would never have been deceived so easily.
“They’ll stop you.” The words shook, scorched her throat with equal measures of pain and rage. He wouldn’t get away with this. Somehow he had to fail.
“Take the next right.”
The order was cold, ruthless. Why hadn’t she recognized him as the enemy before it was too late? An ache twisted near her heart. He’d wooed her . . . lured her into his sensual trap. And she’d fallen like the virgin fool she was.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She hadn’t wanted to see anything but the idea that he wanted her. So stupid.
“Make the turn.” The weapon nudged more deeply into
her skull.
The fury clenched her jaw all the harder. She braked and made the instructed turn. Where the hell was he taking her? Deeper into the middle of nowhere. That was glaringly apparent.
Bastard.
“What now?” she snapped. The road she’d turned on to led deeper into the woods. “There’s nothing out here.”
Except the state park.
Her stomach sank like a rock in shallow water. That was the point. He would take her there – in the middle of nowhere – and kill her. First, he would torture her in hopes of obtaining the SASS. A smile tugged at her lips. But that was gone. The only blueprint for the Search and Surveillance System’s program was in her head. She would never, no matter how intensive the torture, reveal the secret codes only she understood. None of the advanced programming geeks from the FBI, the CIA, or NSA had been able to decipher her specialized coding.
“Stop.”
She braked harder than necessary. The muzzle bumped against her head. She winced but couldn’t help feeling some amount of glee at catching him off-guard even that tiny bit.
“Get out.”
Fine. Why argue? He was going to do what he was going to do. He had the gun after all. She threw the car into park and wrenched open her door. By the time she’d gotten out of the vehicle and on to her feet, he was looming over her. She slammed the door and faced him. “Are you going to kill me here?”
He hitched his head in the opposite direction. “Let’s go.”
For three seconds she glared at him. Every detail wasn’t visible in the pre-dawn darkness but she didn’t need any light to see . . . she knew him by heart. More than six feet tall, broad shouldered, well muscled. She shivered at the memory of all those well defined muscles banded around that lean frame. Black hair, thick and silky. And those dark eyes. Her mutinous body quivered again. His eyes had gotten to her first.
“You through?”
Heat rushed up her throat and burned her face. “I just wanted one last good look at an enemy of the state.” Victory trickled through her. Thank God she’d come up with a reasonable excuse for gawking at him . . . even if it had been a lie.