Dark and Dangerous

by Jeanne Adams

  "Dana, let me," he said, slipping his hands under her hips.

  "No, I want you," she managed, desperate for the feel of him within her. Someday there would be time, but... "Inside me. Now."

  Pulling him forward, she wrapped her legs around his hips, and welcomed him, drawing every bit of him within her. In spite of her determination, he took his time. Every inch was an unholy torture of pleasure.

  "Dear God," he gasped as they moved together, each rocking to the other's rhythm. "What you do to me."

  "Feeling's mutual," she barely managed the reply, pressing her breasts to the firm planes of his chest, drawing his mouth to hers.

  His hands braced them both, balanced them while his body rocked them toward completion. In the opposing mirror, she saw his muscular rear, saw her own hands gripping him, pulling him deeper.

  The image, the picture of the two of them intertwined in lovemaking, was intense. Seeing it as she felt it was such an erotic image, coupled with the intense pleasure of his mouth on hers, that her orgasm rose with lightning speed.

  "Oh-oh-oh," she gasped, closing her eyes to the sensory overload.

  "Touch me, Dana."

  She did, sliding her hands frantically over his back, but she returned again and again to feel the thrust of his hips, give their rushing joy that much more power.

  "Now, Caine, now."

  "No," he demanded on a rasping breath. "Look at me, Dana, I want to see it, see you fly free."

  Her eyes flew open, meeting the fiery emotion in his. His groan echoed on the tiles, his eyes were firebrands, boring into hers. She rose, arching and sliding to meet his thrusts, shuddering with the power of their joining.

  He covered her mouth with his own, a wild passion of mating tongues. He caught her near-scream of exultation as she vaulted over the edge. With a last deep, powerful thrust, he let her intense writhing send him over as well.

  A sense of time and space returned to her slowly.

  She couldn't say she'd returned to normal. Oh, no. It was much better than that. Sweet Lord.

  "Oh my," was all she managed as the breath tore in and out of her lungs. She was wrung out, both from crying and from the storm of their lovemaking.

  "Understatement," he muttered, his panting breath a warm caress on her mussed hair. "You're the master of understatement."

  "Hmmmmm. How about one word?"

  "Go for it."

  "Magnificent?"

  "Good word. Call you, and raise you."

  "What word?"

  "Mind-shattering."

  "That's two, but I feel too spectacular—there's another useful adjective—to complain."

  "Yeah."

  They were still joined, still breathing in unison, and Dana wondered if her heart, or her body, would ever be the same.

  "We should check on Xavy," he finally managed. "But I don't want to move."

  "Mmmmmm. You're right on both counts," she murmured, amazed that it was he, not she, who first thought of Xavier. "I have another word."

  "Hmmmm?"

  "Shower," she managed.

  He groaned. "Torture me with visions of you, wet and naked. Go ahead."

  "I'm naked now."

  "Yeah," he ran a caressing hand to her breast. "You are."

  "We should move."

  "Mmmmmm." They rested in one another's arms for a few more minutes. For Dana, it was a desperately needed eddy in the blinding current of the events shaping her days.

  Reality, in the form of a muscle spasm in her thigh, made sure she didn't stay in the calm water for too long. "Muscle cramp."

  He lifted her easily, and it thrilled her that he was so strong. She never considered herself small, or weak, but the gesture made her feel positively doll-like and petite. In a queer sort of way, although he'd said nothing, it made her feel cherished.

  In a good way.

  Given those thoughts, his next words surprised her.

  "We'll get through this, beautiful Dana. Together." He held her away a bit, tapping her chin to get her to meet his eyes. "You hear me?"

  Nodding, she managed a smile, "Yeah. It sounds good. I know there's a lot unsaid between us, Caine. A lot undone. But together? That sounds ... good."

  "Yeah." He patted her on the butt, a gentle, playful swat. "Hit the showers, girl. You smell like sex."

  The abrupt change to humor threw her off, but she recovered. "And you don't?"

  "Not as much," he grinned at her, pulling on his pants and throwing on his shirt. "I'll sit with Xavy, then I'll shower. Then we'd better get on the road."

  "Deal."

  Xavier was stirring when she came out, her hair drying rapidly in the warm room. He rolled and bumped his arm, leaping into full wakefulness from the pain.

  "Owwwww," he complained.

  "Hey, buddy, that had to hurt," she said, coming to sit next to him. She brushed his hair from his eyes. "Let's get you some more Tylenol and a shower. You'll feel better in clean clothes, then we'll get some chow, okay?"

  "What time is it?" he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

  "Almost ten. You slept a long time."

  "My mouth is sticky. And my hip hurts too."

  "Probably where you landed. Here, have some water."

  Like a creaky old man, Xavy stood, and Dana called Caine out of the bathroom to help. They wrapped plastic over the dressing and stood, one on either side of the partially closed door, as he managed a shower.

  "He's doing great."

  She looked at Caine, surprised at the strain in his voice. "Actually he is. Considering how much he's hurting, he's calmer than he's been before when we've had to move this fast." She managed a smile. "Must be your good influence, dragon."

  "He matters to me, Dana. More than I believed possible." He rubbed at his face, met her gaze. "So do you."

  "Caine, I..."

  "Mom?"

  With a look of unvoiced apology to Caine, she answered her son. "Yes, honey?"

  Caine nodded. How easily he understood her. The thought stayed with her as she helped Xavier dress.

  With the car loaded, they retraced their first drive, merging from Interstate 66, to Highway 29, heading for Smith Mountain Lake.

  Caine filled her in on the agents and the security arrangements. "There'll be an agent with him at all times, and two on watch. Two sleeping. They'll switch off every four hours until they're relieved. Tervain's taking no chances with him, Dana. If I thought he was, I wouldn't agree."

  "I... see," her heart skipped again, to the thought of loving him, of him loving Xavier. "Maybe we should talk about... other stuff. About after."

  "After?"

  "If we make it."

  His face changed from its intense focus on the road, to a darker, more somber look. "We shouldn't look that far ahead. We need to focus on the now."

  So, it had been sex and the comfort of the moment for him, she decided sadly. Could she have expected any, more than that, really? She had no doubt that he cared, more than he wanted too, but it ended there. When he said nothing more, she felt her heart sink.

  Closing her eyes, she blocked out the sight of the endless white line down the middle of the road; the emptiness of the night. When she felt her head loll to the side, she jerked upright.

  "Sorry, I dozed off there. I'll try to stay awake."

  "No need."

  "We're making good time," Dana commented sleepily.

  "Yeah—"

  "What's that?" She sat up, abruptly, ignoring his hiss of alarm as they both saw the cluster of cars ahead of them. Three men stood in the road, waving them down.

  "Do we try to run through them? What if they're Donovan's men?"

  "Mom?"

  "Get down, Xavy," they ordered, in unison.

  Before Caine could slow down, or blast through the now-frantically waving people, there was a pop-pop-pop and the SUV slewed violently sideways.

  Xavier screamed.

  It was no consolation that Caine worked to change the tire in the cursing company of ha
lf a dozen other motorists, all fellow victims of a box of nails. When he finished, it was after midnight.

  Exhaustion dogged her thoughts and was imprinted in the set of Caine's shoulders. Even switching drivers hadn't helped. Worried, Dana finally spoke up.

  Xavier's injured arm had taken a beating when the car's tire blew, and they'd skidded to the side of the road. Thanks to the drugs, he was sleeping, albeit restlessly, in the back seat.

  "We have to stop. Unless someone's on our tail right this minute, no one could track us here. If there's a leak inside, they may know about Smith Mountain too. Staying here until morning, when we can navigate makes sense."

  Without a word, Caine slowed, turning in at a roadside motel. The Mountain Inn appeared to be clean, if basic. They discussed options, but Caine reluctantly agreed.

  "Impeccable logic," Caine finally said. "But I don't have to like it."

  "I know. I'd rather be where we're supposed to be," she said, a touch of aspersion in her voice. "But it's going to take us at least two more hours to do all the doubling around and hunting for the house, especially in the dark."

  "I know. That's why I'm stopping," he said, losing a bit of patience. "You win, okay? I'll get the room."

  Caine headed into the motel office, his limp more pronounced than earlier in the day. Dana wondered if the tire change had opened the wound. He had such animal grace, it was hard to remember he was hurt. The wound must be aching for him to be so brusque. Either that, or he was worried.

  Then again, they were all on edge.

  "Are you fighting with Mist... Charlie, Mom?" Xavier asked, tentatively from the darkness.

  "Not really, honey," she soothed, annoyed with herself for letting Caine's attitude get under her skin. "He agrees with me, but he doesn't want to. It's making him cranky."

  Shadow began to whine in earnest as they sat waiting.

  "Mom, I think Shadow really has to go," Xavy said. "You want me to take him out?"

  "No, stay put. I'll get him."

  Digging out her jacket, Dana pulled it on and got Shadow out of the SUV. He bounded forward on the lead, making a beeline for an arrangement of azaleas. In a few minutes, she was able to take the dog back to the car.

  Caine's face was tight and closed as he returned. She easily recognized smoldering anger.

  "We have to leave."

  "What? Why?"

  "They don't allow dogs. If you hadn't had him walking, we'd have slipped him in, but the manager saw him."

  "Damn," she said, cursing the luck, his irritation, and the situation in general. "I'm sorry."

  "Forget it," he said, curtly. "Not your fault."

  She was about to argue the point, when she saw a man waving frantically at them from the doorway of the office.

  "What's that hotel guy want?" Xavier asked, pointing to the man who was now hurrying toward them.

  Since the man had planted himself in the driveway, still waving and blocking their exit, Caine put the car in park and got out. Chances were slim that it was a trap, but she saw him loosen the gun at his waistband, his hand ready on it if the situation warranted force.

  "Sir, my wife pinned my ears to my head, if you get me." Dana heard the man call. Even at a distance, Caine's blank incomprehension of the colloquialism was obvious. "You know, read me the riot act for turning ya'll away. I tell ya' what. If ya' leave the dog in the car, I'll let ya' have the room. You okay with that? I kin put ya' in the lower down rooms, away from the road, so even if he barks some it won't wake nobody."

  "Hang on," Caine replied, returning to the car. "You okay with that? Leaving Shadow in the car?"

  "I hate it, but it's one night. We'll be at the safehouse in the morning. I really don't think we have a choice."

  "I'm really tired of being in the car, Mom. I'm really sleepy." His voice was so mournful, and he sounded so young that Dana reached a comforting hand to him, squeezed. "I don't want to leave Shadow in the car, though."

  Caine nodded. "I know. We'll sneak him in later, after the first watch."

  Ten minutes later, they were opening the door to a plain, slighdy stale-smelling room with two double beds. A big TV sat on a low dresser, and a tent sign advertised all the cable channels, even the premiums.

  "That's cool," Xavy managed, sleepily as he lay down. "They have HBO, too."

  "Yeah," Dana agreed, knowing he'd be asleep in seconds. Nestled in the bed with Xavier, taking the first watch, Dana began to surf the channels.

  "How about staying more than three seconds on a station," Caine complained into the darkness.

  "There's five hundred. It's a waste of time if I know right away it's something stupid."

  "Good point," he paused, then went on. "You're thinking out loud again. Quit doubting. We're committed. I'm with you," he said, propping up on one elbow to look at her. "For whatever it means, we're in it together."

  She scanned his serious face, the flicking light from the television highlighting the planes and valleys of his features.

  She was about to speak when his phone rang, a trill of sound in the quiet room.

  "Crap," he muttered, fumbling for the device. "It's Tervain. He's gonna be pissed." He glanced at Xavier. "I don't want to wake him. I'll take it outside."

  He answered the call as he eased through the door. She heard the first part of his explanation as he pulled the door closed behind him.

  Fighting her fatigue, Dana was determined to stand her watch. She sipped cold water and wiggled her feet, trying to keep her blood moving without waking Xavier.

  She automatically froze when the door opened, then relaxed when she recognized Caine.

  "I walked Shadow," Caine whispered as he returned. "But the night guard's out there. I put the dog back in the car, for now." Sitting down on the side of the bed, he looked at her, awry smile playing around his full mouth. "Tervain's fired up; that's no surprise. But he agreed with our decision."

  "Not that we needed his approval, but it's good to know," she managed. He was looking at her, that way. Her blood heated and her belly tightened. He took the remote from her hand. "I'm awake now. I'll take first watch."

  With a soft kiss on her temple, that did nothing to cool her memories of their earlier encounter, he turned off the television. She heard the rustle of the curtains, and saw the lights from the parking lot reflect on the barrel of his weapon, as he opened the door a mere crack to check the lot.

  She'd called him a black knight. It was so apt in so many ways. He was as distant from her as if he was encased in steel. Perhaps that was it, he'd walled off everything, and everyone, shutting himself inside his dark armor.

  The thought was so sad, so depressing, she couldn't stand it. Life was so full, even when it was full of danger.

  Rolling to one side, she pulled the blanket over her legs, made sure Xavier was well tucked in. Freedom was so precious, so real. There were so many things ...

  Sleep claimed her so quickly she didn't have time to wonder about the strange, sweet smell of cologne drifting in on the breeze.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dana woke with a gun to her head. The barrel was cool, and smooth. The firm pressure on her brow let her know the person on the trigger end meant business. The sharp tang of a snapped ammonia capsule stung her nose, explaining why she was so suddenly, and shockingly, alert.

  "Get up," a voice whispered. "Tie Bradley's hands."

  Rope landed in her lap as she struggled to rise. The weapon stayed tightly pressed to her temple.

  "No tricks. You don't matter to me. Nor does he. I want the boy. You cooperate, you stay alive. Try anything and you both get dead. Either way, I get the boy."

  "Who are you? Why are you doing this?" Dana asked as she tied Caine's hands. He'd fallen, or been rolled, onto the floor at the foot of his bed. When she tried, surreptitiously to rouse him with a shake, a hand snapped out of the darkness, to cuff her.

  "Quit stalling. Pull it tighter. Don't try and leave them loose, Mrs. Markham. I'll hurt you for
it."

  She pulled the rope constricting Caine's wrists. The voice was familiar. Low, but female. In the darkened room, the other woman was a bulky shadow, even with the glimmer of light silvering the room from the now partially drawn drapes.

  "You get down on the floor between the beds and put your hands behind you. I've got more rope for you."

  Something about the words, the voice, clicked into place. "Agent Booth."

  "Yeah."

  "Everyone thinks you're dead."

  "I know. Walker taught me well."

  Dana gasped. Booth was the leak, the insider.

  "But, but, you've been missing for days, how did you—"

  "Tapped Tervain's private cell, Sears's too, and inserted my own double scrambler. Once you contacted Tervain, you were easy to track. I knew it would just be a matter of time. You made it tough, staying here. I was already at the house. I'm behind schedule. Fucking flat tire."

  Booth jerked the rope, the smooth nap of the bindings cut into Dana's wrists.

  "Why?" She couldn't figure it out.

  "Why, what? Why am I leaving you alive?"

  "That, too."

  "Caine saved my life a few years ago. I didn't know he was the plant in Donovan's organization, and didn't care once his cover was blown. I'd never been to Donovan's house, so I never saw him, never knew. Donovan and I met other places," Booth's voice turned caressing and feminine when she said Donovan's name, giving Dana all the information she needed as to why a veteran agent would turn. "He's amazing."

  "He's a killer," Dana stated flatly. "Listen to me, Agent Booth. You're not over the edge yet. Nobody's dead at your hand. Don't let him turn you into a killer too."

  "He isn't turning me into anything I've not already fully grown into on my own." There was derision in her voice now. "I'm doing this as much for me as for him. He won't stop raving about his son. Hell, he doesn't know how much trouble the rugrats are. You've done all the hard work after all, up till now. My sister's raised a boy on her own, I know what a job it is. He gets the boy, he'll quit obsessing over him. I'll get all his attention."

  "Then why—"