Dark and Dangerous

by Jeanne Adams

  "Maybe tighter," she snapped. "I have more than myself to think about." She regretted the temper in her words as soon as they left her mouth. "Sorry, sorry," she apologized. "I'm edgy, knowing Donovan's going to call."

  "I know." His voice soothed, as did the hand he smoothed down her arm. She didn't move. He evidently took her stillness as acceptance, letting his palm slide down, then up; a caress, a comfort. "I can only imagine," he said, shooting a look at Xavy. "And that pales in comparison to reality, I'm sure."

  Somehow his honesty in admitting that he didn't know how it felt was her undoing. Tears welled, then leaked from her eyes. "It's hard," she choked out the words. "So hard sometimes." God, she hated the weakness of tears.

  His hand tightened, and she sensed his hesitation. He leaned forward the barest fraction, as if to take her into a hug. In that split second of decision, she wondered what it would feel like, to be held ... protected. By him.

  It would be her emotional undoing, so she gave ground, easing away. "Don't. If I did, if you ..." she couldn't even say it "I'd lose it. I'm too close to the edge."

  "Got it." His voice was cooler now. "Call the boy in." She started to speak, but he beat her to it. "I'll try to remember to cough or something." He touched his nose, which had obviously seen a fist or two before. "My face has had enough damage."

  "Xavier," she called, not trusting herself to answer his banter. "Let's get inside, check out which room you want."

  The boy leapt up, dog trailing at his heels. Once on the porch, he glanced at her. "Go ahead. Wipe your feet," she belatedly added as he yanked open the screen and both boy and dog ran inside.

  There was a faint, "Wow, cool," and she heard the thud of feet on stairs. Caine had one eyebrow cocked and inquiry on his dark face.

  "You coming?" Caine asked tersely.

  "In a minute."

  "You can't be out here by yourself. You know that."

  "I know the drill," she snapped. "I have to get a grip before we're together in close quarters. Please. I'll be careful."

  He hesitated, obviously uneasy.

  "I'll get our stuff," she continued. "Then come in, I promise. Just let me breathe for a minute, okay?"

  Finally, he nodded. "Don't be long."

  "I won't."

  With another appraising glance, he went inside. She heard him call out to Xavy, something about lunch. Closing her eyes, she simply breathed for a few moments. Letting her defenses down, she tried to relax, let her senses tell her if they were clear. Unfortunately, it didn't work. She was too conscious of the man inside the house. Her internal awareness pinned onto him like a striking hawk.

  There was another factor. She couldn't get past his ability to sneak up on her. It unnerved her and kept her on guard. She expected to open her eyes and find him standing there, breathing down her neck.

  The image of his hot body behind her sent her sensual imagination into overdrive. Which spiked her irritation level. Why she had to pick now, of all times, to have a hormone surge over a Feebie was a mystery. With a snort of self-disgust, she loaded the duffels and backpacks into her arms, ignoring the dog food. He'd bought a fifty-pound bag, probably all the feed store sold. She'd let him bring that in.

  Toeing open the door, she walked into the cabin.

  "Wow, is right," she repeated Xavy's sentiment. The interior featured exposed beams, high ceilings, and a breathtaking view out over the valley beyond. Comfortable, manly chairs were scattered about with a plethora of sports, business, and luxury-item magazines stacked in a basket by each.

  A sturdy table boasted a fat, bright red, three-wick candle in the center on a wooden stand. It was the sole homey, girly touch in an otherwise bachelor-type pad. Even the art was of a masculine bent, with elk and mountain lions sharing space with an enormous mountainous landscape full of pine and laurel.

  The kitchen was state of the art and seemed basically untouched. The guys obviously didn't cook. She said a quick prayer the bathrooms weren't the opposite of the pristine kitchen.

  From a balcony above, a voice called down. "Hey Mom, you have to come see this." She followed the sound of her son's laughter and found him and Caine in one of the bedrooms. The exposed logs were whitewashed here, but still masculine, and a black and red plaid spread and pillows adorned the bed. There were red, blue, black, and green hooked rugs on the dark wood floor.

  "Check this out," Xavy said, coming over to tug her into the room. "Look."

  She saw why he was excited in one glance. It was a gamer's idea of heaven. A plasma television covered a section of the wall, and below it cabinets held games, movies, music, and more.

  "They even have the latest XBox stuff," he raved.

  Caine held out a module. "This one's new," he said, tossing it to Xavier. The boy promptly plopped down to unwrap it and insert it in the machine. "Try that out while your mom and I check out what's available for lunch."

  "You bet. Hey Mom, do you think there might be hot dogs?"

  "Don't know, baby," she said, brushing a strand of dark hair away from his eyes. "Frozen, maybe. I'll let you know."

  "Okay. I'm gonna kick this," he exulted, then hesitated. "Is that okay? Do we have time?"

  Unutterably saddened again, she pasted on a smile. "It's okay, and we have time. It may be hours before we hear from Agent Tervain. Knock yourself out."

  "Excellent," he said, turning to the game.

  Caine followed her down the stairs, as she headed for the kitchen. To her surprise, there were hot dogs in the freezer as well as frozen dinners, air-sealed steaks, and fish. There were also, to her vast amusement, five boxes of breakfast sandwiches.

  In the refrigerator, there were crackers, a loaf of bread, beer, sugary soft drinks, some spreadable cheese that had a faraway expiration date, and a door full of man-condiments.

  Ugh. Searching the cabinets she found soup and cans of vegetables, and there was cereal, cereal, and more cereal. Oatmeal, cream of wheat, grits, bran flakes, corn flakes, every kind of flakes. And sugared cereals galore.

  Cereal, but no milk. She was about to call to Caine when he was there, coming upon her as silently as ever.

  Hand to her breast to still her heart, she said, "You promised you'd give me a warning. I didn't hear a cough, buddy," she scowled at him, still a bit breathless.

  Grinning, he made a fake coughing sound. "Better?"

  "No. But it's a start."

  "You needed me?"

  Loaded question. Get your mind out of the gutter, girl.

  "Did you say there was a grocery nearby? I can make hot dogs for Xavier, and there are breakfast sandwiches we can make in the microwave, but not much else."

  "No." His response was immediate, automatic, and clipped.

  "Why?" Logic overrode irritation.

  "I can think of two dozen reasons, starting with my orders to keep you and Xavier under wraps at all times."

  "We're never entirely safe, Caine. Ever," she met him stare for stare. "It's unlikely anyone could make it here unobserved or that we've been followed. Give me your cell number." They programmed his number into her phone. "Cross check measure taken. Now get going."

  They argued about it for twenty more minutes, but to her surprise, she wore him down.

  "What do you need?"

  "Milk, eggs, butter, peanut butter, jelly. Some ground beef, chips or pretzels or something to snack on. Hamburger buns. American cheese. D batteries."

  "Cereal?"

  "There's enough cereal here to float a ship."

  He glanced at the cabinets, and she opened a door to illustrate her point. His eyes widened.

  "Okay, no cereal." He handed her two weapons pulled from a bag he'd left by the door. "You know the drill," he mimicked her earlier phrase.

  "Window check, door check, bead on the car as it goes and returns. Got it," she replied and opened the freezer for the hot dogs. "Hit the trail."

  "Check," he said, military style, and left the room, and within minutes, the house, silently passin
g her yet one more weapon before he left.

  Preparing two hot dogs and taking them to her son, Dana pondered their strange companion. He was a study in contradictions. At some points all agent, by the book. At others, with his hot gaze turned her way, all man.

  "Hey Mom, did you see? I got the high score."

  Xavy had devoured the hot dogs and was once again immersed in the digital world of right and wrong.

  "Excellent," she replied, tuning in to the game and her son's excitement. "That's a new one. How do you score?"

  "Blowing things up, like Uncle Jimmy." His grin was delighted, and he plunged back into the game.

  Circling the house in a security check, Dana tried to figure out how long it had been since she'd seen her brother. Dredging her memory, she finally came up with the event. Xavier's third birthday. Donovan had gotten a pony, a clown, and a large moonbounce machine. A host of children, all of wealthy parents from their exclusive neighborhood, had raced, screeched and laughed in the backyard. In the kitchen, Dana had surveyed the chaos with a mix of irritation and delight. Most of the parents were a bit stuffy, a few of the kids bullies or truly princessy and dreadful, but most were average, happy kids. Having fun was the name of the game.

  Her brother had come in, in search of a beer.

  "Hey girl," he said. "Some party for a kid."

  "Yeah, you know Donovan." The excessive display had bothered her, but she'd kept quiet. It had troubled her that Donovan was using the child's party to invite the self-important, up-and-coming crowd. She'd been raised in a simpler way, with basic parties, homemade cake, and pizza as they got older. Donovan claimed it was good for his import/export business, but she also knew he enjoyed the display and the people sucking up to him. "I know it's over the top. You and I understand that, right? It was different for us," she'd said to Jimmy with a sigh. "I'm beginning to," he had said cryptically. His voice had fallen to a mere whisper. "I've found out a lot about your husband. Do you know him, Sis? Really?"

  She'd been deeply disturbed by his implications, and tried to get him to explain, but he'd said no more. He'd never come back to that house. Months later, as she uncovered and understood the depths of Donovan's dirty business deals, she knew why.

  When she agreed to testify, go underground, her brother had come.

  They'd barely gotten one visit before she and Xavier had been assigned their first identity. He'd hugged her, told her he was proud of her, the choices she'd made.

  Tears stung her eyes at the remembered image.

  "Mom. Mom," Xavy called twice before he got her attention.

  "Sorry, what?"

  "Can I have another hot dog? I'm really hungry."

  "When Agent Bradley comes back."

  "Sounds good. You want to play? There's another control module."

  "Sure," she said, sitting down on the floor between him and Shadow.

  For thirty minutes they battled away, knocking off monsters, crashing cars and spaceships. Shadow alerted, and she caught the faint sound of tires on gravel. Seconds later the gate release beeped. Peering around the living room window frame, Dana scanned the driveway, weapon in hand to see the Cadillac as it powered around the driveway's potholes. That didn't mean it was Caine behind the wheel, however.

  Commanding Shadow to guard, she glided to the back, following the car. Zig-zagging across the kitchen, she released the safety on the second weapon, setting it on the counter.

  The vehicle spat gravel as Caine reversed to park it. She watched him search the hills. His gaze swept over the house. Within a few seconds, he had locked onto her position behind the door as if he had a laser targeting system.

  He brought two fingers to tap them at his brow in a Boy Scout salute. How had he known she was there? She had no clue. She shifted to be visible in the glass of the door and returned the salute. She, however, used the barrel of the gun.

  As he came in carrying the groceries, his phone rang.

  ♥ Scanned by Coral ♥

  Chapter Six

  Caine dumped a bevy of plastic bags on the counter in the center of the room and reached for the phone. Its ring told him it wasn't Walker, nor was it Tervain.

  Signaling for quiet, he picked up the call. "Yeah?" he growled, using Pollack's persona. Even though he was sure he knew who it was, he was taking no chances on blowing his cover.

  "It's Sears. You okay?"

  "For now."

  "How about the dove and the chick?"

  "They're fine," Caine said, glancing at Dana. Faint beeps and bongs told him Xavy was gaming upstairs.

  "Good. Still working on finding Parlier. Tervain'll call later. You a hillbilly?"

  Caine frowned. Tervain knew they'd headed for the mountain house, but had he withheld the information from Sears? Was Sears the leak?

  "Probably."

  "Is that..." Sears' voice faded as he answered someone else who'd called to him. "Gotta go. Word on Parlier."

  Caine returned his phone to the holster at his waist.

  "Bad news?"

  "No," he said, still thinking about Sears. What was up? "Oh, milk, eggs, etc.," he pointed to the bags. "As requested, ma'am."

  "Excellent," she said, delving in. "So are you going to tell me about the call, or do I have to pull the car over again and threaten to throw you out?"

  He heard the irritation in her voice first, before the words penetrated. For some reason the reminder of her fierce order to get out of the car in the middle of the night, made him smile. "No, I'll cooperate, Sheriff, I promise," he joked, raising his hands in surrender.

  As she put the groceries away, she asked, "Do you want a hamburger, Agent Bradley, or some soup and a grilled cheese?"

  "Ouch. So, I'm in the dog house? You called me Agent Bradley."

  When she merely looked at him, her hands on her hips, he relented. "Soup and a grilled cheese sounds great. I haven't had that since I was a kid."

  "Mom," Xavy called from upstairs. "Call off Shadow, I gotta go to the bathroom."

  Dana gave a strangled laugh as she ran to give the dog a cease order. Caine was laughing too, but puzzled as to why she'd actually gone upstairs, rather than just calling the order to the dog. When she got back, he asked about it.

  "Shadow's a smart one. Every now and again, if he can't see me, he'll wait before he follows a command. It might save Xavy one day, but it's usually a pain in the neck."

  "Hey Mom," Xavy called down the stairs. "Can I get another hot dog now?"

  "Yes, I'll bring it to you in a few minutes." Dana got out bread, cheese, and one of the cans of soup, as well as a hot dog and bun. To Caine, she said, "Is tomato okay?"

  "Yeah. It was Sears, on the phone. Checking in."

  "Why not Tervain?"

  "Good question."

  The microwave had dinged, and she turned to look at him, a full plate in hand. "Bad feeling or something concrete?" She kept working as he thought, piling chips on the plate and pouring a glass of milk.

  "A twinge. Nothing concrete."

  "Hmmm. Would you take this to Xavy? I'll finish ours."

  "Yes, ma'am," he grinned at her and disappeared.

  It took her a full two minutes to recover from the effects of his smile. What was wrong with her?

  Banging out her irritation on the cupboards, she got the things she needed. Pouring the soup and cutting a grilled cheese, she found herself hoping he'd stay upstairs for a bit.

  And wasn't that stupid? They were going to be living in close proximity for God only knew how long. She damn well better get her hormones in control and quit thinking about his muscle tone. Or his smile. Or the fact that he cared enough to find out about Jimmy. Or how he looked in briefs as the doctor tended his leg.

  "Stop it," she scolded herself. "This isn't the time."

  "For what?"

  She nearly screamed when the soft words came from right behind her. "Dammit, you promised to cough."

  He faked one and when she didn't respond, did it again. "Sorry."

&
nbsp; "Yeah, right. Sit and eat. Tell me about your hunch." The words tumbled out of her mouth. "How's your leg? Does it need tending? I've got bandages and antiseptic."

  "You were thinking about my leg?"

  Oh, if you only knew. "Well, only that it was rude of me to send you up and down the stairs with stitches in your thigh. I mean, what if you injured it further? We need you as healthy as you can be, right?"

  "Yep," he said, sitting at the small kitchen island. She saw his quick frown and the wry twist to his lips, but just as soon as she saw it, it was gone. "The leg's doing okay. I heal quick. I got stuff at the store, there should be supplies here too. I've done this before."

  "Really? You get injured on the job a lot?" She took a seat across from him.

  "Enough that I know what to do."

  "Would you like another sandwich?" she asked, noticing the empty plate. He'd finished the sandwich in a few quick bites. "I'm used to cooking for a boy. One's probably not enough for a grown man."

  "That would be great."

  "No problem, keep your seat. I'll get it."

  "Thanks." She felt him watching her as she turned the stove on again. "My mom used to make them that way, with butter. My aunt's never tasted the same. She used oleo."

  "Oleo?"

  "Margarine. She's from the Midwest, some people out there call it oleo. The way they call soft drinks, pop."

  She nodded. "Here you go. Is one more enough or should I make another?"

  "This is plenty. I appreciate it." Caine was halfway through the second sandwich when his cell phone rang again.

  They both froze, gazes locked, then Caine checked the number.

  The change in his face told her all she needed to know. It was Donovan.

  "Go to Xavier and stay quiet. I'll be telling him you're tied and gagged, so no noise. Got it?"

  "Got it," she hurried upstairs. When Xavier looked up in surprise, she put a finger to her lips and whispered, "Agent Bradley's talking to your father. Mute the game," she pointed to the console. "Good job. I'm going to go to the top of the stairs to listen, okay?"

  Xavier nodded mutely, watching her departure with frightened eyes. The impact of his fear followed her to the stairwell. The house's open floor plan made eavesdropping easy.