by Dawn Ryder
A moment of peace was something she rarely indulged in, and if Dunn Bateson was watching, she truly didn’t care.
He would never see inside her mind.
No, that was her own personal hell.
* * *
“He did what?”
Kagan didn’t lose his cool very often, and Vitus wouldn’t exactly be fair in saying his Section Leader was shouting, but there was definitely an edge to his tone, one that carried a warning.
“And while you’re at it, you can explain why you and Sinclair are there before I heard about it,” Kagan finished off with a hard note in his voice.
“Since you dropped the bomb on Carl Davis, it was a sound course of action,” Vitus said without a hint of remorse for his actions.
Kagan grunted on the other end of the line. “I forget, you have a lot of buddies pulling security detail at the capitol. Carl would piss himself if he knew how much they talk.”
“Might be fun to let it slip. He and his cronies forget how many men they have backing them up. And my buddies only talk to a select few. It’s loyalty a number of those fat cats don’t deserve.”
“You got the girl in the end,” Kagan responded.
“Right,” Vitus agreed. “I should be humble in victory?”
“You might try not rubbing his nose in it,” Kagan said. “Considering it was her daddy who was shoving her into that match with Carl Davis.”
Vitus shrugged, conceding the argument. His wife Damascus was a point he would never negotiate on, but Kagan was right, her father had been the mastermind of the plot to marry her to Carl Davis. Not that Davis was clean handed in the deal. He’d planned to use her to charm the voters and hide his own personal sexual choices. Vitus didn’t give a crap for the fact that Carl was gay and he even sympathized with the guy on the fact that the public would fry him if they ever found out, but the moment Carl had tried to take Damascus from him, Carl had lost whatever sympathy Vitus was going to afford him. There was only Damascus and the fact that she belonged with him.
“Carl was still trying to acquire her like a possession, which tells me a lot about his character,” Vitus added.
“It does,” Kagan agreed. “So your brother is more like you than he wanted to admit. Didn’t think I’d live to see him embracing it.”
“He’s motivated, that’s for sure.”
Kagan made a low sound in the back of his throat. “Careful Hale, I think the pair of you might be running short on your share of luck.”
“That’s why Saxon bugged out. Thais found the hit on the girl’s information,” Vitus continued. “My guess is we have a hit man on our tail. Better to trap him here, without giving him a shot at the witness.”
“Agreed,” Kagan interrupted. “And there is the chance that Tyler will track Dunn’s helicopter to that cabin.”
“Tyler will get a surprise if he tries to make a grab for the bait.”
“Glad to hear that you’ve taken precautions.”
Kagan didn’t ask for details. Vitus felt a ripple of tension go through him but it was one he was comfortable with. He knew this game, understood the risks. There was a little nibble on his conscience from guilt, a new and unexpected response that was tied directly to his wife. Risking his butt had always been his own choice to make, but now he had something he very much wanted to live for.
* * *
Saxon seemed to know where they were going. He kept the truck heading down winding roads for the entire day. The hours crept by in a blur of trees and scattered glimpses of handmade signs that marked dirt roads leading to private cabins hidden from the main road. The highway itself was only a two-lane one that had more potholes than paint on the center dividing line.
“Alright partner,” Saxon surprised her by speaking at long last. “Time to pull your weight.”
* * *
He slowed down and seemed to be looking for something, then he pulled a book from the door of the truck and handed it to her.
“A Tomas Brothers,” she exclaimed as she took hold of the map book.
“A test of your manual skills.”
She flipped it open and sent him a smirk. “I can do this in my sleep.”
The lost art of looking up locations the old fashioned way.
“That’s why we’re using it, instead of a GPS,” Saxon was creeping along, searching the trees for a sign. “If we’re not on the grid, it’s a lot harder to find us.”
“Not bad,” Ginger said as she flipped pages and found where they were. “And here I thought you were nothing without your gizmos and high-teck gadgets.”
Saxon turned his attention to her. “I noticed you enjoy a hands-on sort of approach.”
Her damned breath got stuck in her throat. Of course he noticed, his lips thinning in a purely male, satisfied manner before he looked back at the road.
“Let’s not get distracted,” he muttered.
Oh, she really wanted to disagree with him. Lord knew her body did. Distracted by each other sounded just about perfect.
“There,” she pointed at the remains of a sign.
When he turned off the road, she sucked in her breath because it looked like they were heading into a wall of trees. There was a definite scraping on the windows and sides of the truck but no collusion with anything solid. The truck just bounced and rolled on its way along a very poorly maintained, unpaved road. Saxon stopped expectantly and got out.
“Need to cover our tracks.”
Saxon stopped at what looked like a dead tree. He pulled on a section of the bark and a door opened up, even if the word “door” needed to be applied loosely. It was actually just a cut-out in the trunk. He pulled a rake and tossed it toward her.
They walked back toward the main road where he set about tossing dead leaves and debris over the trail their tires had left.
Okay, simple enough.
Ginger took to the task and they worked their way back to where the truck was. A thin trickle of sweat worked its way down her back by the time they finished. It felt good after sitting on her tail for so long. Saxon stowed the rakes, and they climbed back into the truck.
He smelled good.
She didn’t need to notice that, but her hormones weren’t listening. Her slightly elevated respiration was drawing in enough of the air between them to tease her with his scent.
Damn, she’d picked a hell of a time to get stuck on a guy.
On the other hand, the bulge of the gun against her waist drove home the fact that her options in life just might be limited. As in, the sand in her hourglass could be running low. Sure, it was a logical reason for her reaction to him but it didn’t make her feel very good about herself.
“What are you chewing on, Gin?”
Ginger thought she’d imagined the question but Saxon cut her a glance that included a raised eyebrow.
“Why are you asking?”
He was looking at the road, but she still caught the way his jaw clenched. “Rule one of being a team. You answer my questions, but not with a question.”
“I thought rule one was don’t shoot you.” She was messing with him but decided she preferred it to thinking too deeply about what they’d done the night before.
“That’s Vitus’s rule,” Saxon informed her dryly.
“Ah,” she conceded. “He doesn’t want the duty of providing all the grand babies?”
“That’s what I thought you were thinking about.” He was watching the road but his knuckles had turned white.
“To be fair, I wasn’t so far down the road as thinking about kids,” she offered. “I’m sort of still stuck on living to see my next birthday.”
His knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. “One day at a time.” There was a moment of silence before he stopped and put the truck in park. He sent her a confident look. “Have a little faith, Gin. I’m good at what I do.”
He’d proven that already. She didn’t get a chance to tell him so because he was out of the truck in the next moment.
&nbs
p; The sun was just a glowing ball on the horizon but there was enough light for her to see what Saxon was up to. He’d walked away from her, but when he was on the way back, she realized he’d left an empty can on a rock down field.
“Right,” she said. He only stepped to the side and watched her from behind a doubtful expression. “Worried about letting me keep your brother’s little present while you sleep?”
“Prove it or lose it,” he replied.
Ginger reached down and opened the snap that held the strap in place over the butt of the pistol. She held it up, slipping her thumb along the side of it until she found the safety. Saxon’s eyes narrowed slightly in response. She leveled the weapon, looked down the barrel, lined up the sights, and sent the can into the air.
Saxon surprised her by flashing her a smile. “Not too bad”—he turned and reached for something that looked like a rock—“for a civilian.”
“Could be worse,” she said. “I could be sobbing … hiding under the bed…”
He shot her a hard look. “I think that’s why they issued me a set of handcuffs.”
Ginger rolled her eyes. “Now that is such a disappointing answer. My fantasies are dashed.”
His features tightened, his gaze glittering. “You didn’t seem to have a lack of satisfaction last night.”
Heat surged through her, and it made her bold again. “Felt like you enjoyed it, too.”
He let out a bark of amusement. For a moment, they were caught in a strange tension. It was equal parts buzz and uncertainty. The only thing that made it bearable was the fact that they seemed to share it.
“This will be over at some point.” His tone was low, like he didn’t want to say the words but did so because it was the right thing to do.
“I’m hoping we’ll both be there to see it.”
His jaw tightened, but he nodded, grasped the handle, and pulled on it. Dirt went flying, raising a dust cloud that tickled her nose and made her blink as it settled all around her. As the dust cleared, she got a look at a doorway that led down into the ground. It was sort of a dusty, dark hole, leading down into the earth.
“Let’s get out of sight,” Saxon suggested.
He was enjoying the moment. She almost didn’t have the heart to crush his moment of glee, but on the other hand, she had a really great memory of the way he’d enjoyed her rising to match him.
“Thank you.” She stepped right through into the unknown. Only it wasn’t exactly a mystery. Her luck held and her foot connected with a step just inside the darkness and then another. She reached out and found a railing to grasp. The air inside was musty, and she’d descended a good ten steps before Saxon punched the light switch.
“So you’ve seen a shelter before.” Saxon came down the steps behind her.
“You sound so disappointed,” Ginger had made it to the main living area of the shelter. It wasn’t very big, but this one was one of the better ones. She looked back at him and fluttered her eyelashes. “Sorry to burst your bubble.”
“Just surprised,” he corrected her.
Ginger had started to look around the structure but turned back to face him. She eyed him, giving him her best victory look. “As disappointed as a grammar school boy who got up early to catch a frog and put in in my lunch box.”
He caved in and shrugged as his lips curled up to flash his teeth at her. It was a pretty good reward for being brazen, making her feel devilish to the core. Living dangerously came with a buzz, one she decided she liked, especially when the source of that spine tingling was Saxon Hale.
“Fine, a little disappointed you didn’t squeal,” he admitted as he moved to a control panel and started up the air-circulation system. There was a soft hum as it kicked in, and the air shifted around them.
“Small town.” She began to distract herself from the fact that they were very alone. “Lots of doomsday preppers. Pandemic, super volcano eruption in Yellowstone, collapse of government, they’re all getting ready. Going off grid before the end begins.”
She turned and considered the living space afforded by the shelter. The ceiling was curved and she’d estimated they were a good twenty feet below the surface of the earth. It kept the temperature down but now that the air system was on, the mustiness was clearing up. There was a small kitchen and table. A modest living area with a sofa that would double as a pull-out bed and a flat-screen against the wall. Past a double door would be the bathroom and bedroom.
“Hopefully this one meets with your approval,” he offered as he started rummaging around in the kitchen cabinet and pulled a coffee maker out. Not exactly Dunn’s style.
“It’s not the unfinished walls of a missile silo or the inside of a cinder block lined dugout.”
He flashed her a look. Ginger lifted her hands into the air. “Small town, folks have time on their hands. I’ve spent more than one Saturday helping install solar cells and water pumps.”
This shelter was one that could be purchased. She’d seen the catalogs.
“Is that why you got into working with the Feds?”
It was the first real personal question he’d asked her. She caught herself feeling just a tad shy as she recognized an attempt to know her better.
“Truth is,” she answered, “I’m nosy by nature and the Internet just makes it way too simple to find stuff out.”
“According to your file, you’re good.” Saxon said. “You’ve worked with more than just deadbeat parents.”
“You’ve been doing your homework.” Not that she should be surprised.
“Maybe I’m listening to you, too.”
“Right.” Understanding dawned on her. “I said it was interdepartmental.”
“And you knew what that meant.”
She shrugged. “Working for the Feds was just a way to liven up an otherwise dull life in Cattle Creek. Mind you, I didn’t want to leave. I guess I wanted the best of both worlds. Excitement and safety.”
He was leaning against the countertop and had his arms crossed over his chest. “You aren’t content to sit by and let your life happen. You want to make an impact.”
She nodded.
The pull between them intensified. His approval was the sort of compliment that went straight to her head. Like she needed to be worthy and at the same time, he was letting her know that he found her to be just that. Oh for sure, it conflicted with her modern take on the world where men and women had equal rights, but Saxon had affected her on a much more primitive level.
“I want to take you to bed, Gin.”
She felt her body surging to life in response. “You’re getting naked this time.”
His lips curled up in response to her demand.
He hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her into his embrace. She reached for him, rising onto her toes to kiss him. She felt something inside him stretching, straining against the hold he’d kept on it, the walls meant to hold it back crumbling as she flattened her hands against his chest, melting into his embrace.
It was her undoing, the moment when the leash snapped and they both willingly let reasoning go. Logic didn’t have a place between them, only reaction. He cupped her nape, easing her head back so he could control her and keep her in position for his kiss.
She’d never even suspected that a man’s touch could feel so amazingly good. It was bone deep and a little sound bounced off the walls of the kitchen before he broke away and took her through the door into the bedroom. She heard him place his gun on the table this time and watched as he shrugged out of his harness.
But he turned back around and caught her, returning his mouth to hers.
She’d thought he’d kissed her good before but she’d been mistaken. All of the strength was there in the way he took command of her lips, but this time, he’d made the firm choice to dispense with resisting. Now, he was claiming her.
Ginger curled her fingers into the soft material of his T-shirt, pulling him toward her even though they were already pressed against each other.
&n
bsp; It wasn’t close enough, not nearly so. She realized that she hated the fabric of her shirt. Somehow, her skin had become ultra-sensitive, to the point that she felt like the T-shirt was scratchy and needed to go immediately. She pulled it off, and he cupped the sides of her face and held her still so that he could reclaim her mouth.
This time, there was no hint of coaxing. There was only determination as he opened her mouth and teased her lower lip with a swipe of his tongue before boldly thrusting it inside to tangle with her own.
She shivered, twisting in a storm of sensations that felt like they were ripping her in too many directions at once. There was white hot need clawing at her insides so intense she couldn’t stay still, couldn’t focus. There was only the overwhelming multitude of opportunities to touch him and be touched in return. She was frantic to not miss an inch of him. The need to be closer to him was pounding through her, making her dizzy as she rose onto her toes to kiss him back.
“Gin…” He lifted his head. “You go to my head…”
She felt the brush of cool air against her skin. Saxon didn’t let her suffer it long. He was folding her back into his embrace, pressing his skin to hers and stealing her breath with the contact.
It blew everything else out of her mind, leaving her awash in sensation.
He knew his way around her clothing, unhooking her bra and easing it over her shoulders before it went sailing across the room to hit the floor in a forgotten heap.
“Christ.” He cupped her breasts, the word coming out as he kneaded them.
The exclamation bounced around inside her head because all she could do was arch back as he leaned over and fashioned his lips around one of her nipples. She gasped, the sound echoing inside the room, certain she was going to combust.
Stripping became a priority, one she set to with a zeal. She was too damned hot to deal with clothing, both hers and his.
“Yes ma’am.” He growled as he followed her lead, their clothing ending up in piles. Saxon turned away from her for a moment, setting her gun on one of the side tables. It afforded him a moment to realize she was bare. She felt exposed and proud of her choice.