by Lyn Stone
“Forgotten,” she almost shouted over the so-called music.
He fumbled for the scan button on the radio panel and punched it vigorously until it landed on soft rock. Elevator music. He sat back, folded his arms over his chest and frowned out the window. It was the closest they’d ever come to having a fight.
She waited a few seconds and changed the station again to a jazzy compromise that he tuned out completely. What he had suggested outshouted any sound either of them could summon up.
Think about it. He hadn’t quite been able to think about anything else since last night, and knew she wouldn’t, either, now that he had brought it out in the open. No inflation of the ego here, just physical facts they couldn’t escape. He wanted her.
She wanted him, too. Until they did something about it to ease the tension, neither of them would be worth a plug nickel on the job.
Minutes crawled by. Miles. He estimated a full hour passed without a single word spoken between them as they zoomed down the interstate.
Then she cleared her throat, a nervous sound, one he would never have associated with Holly. “We’ll have to stop somewhere first. For…you know.”
Protection? She was considering it? He couldn’t believe this. He turned toward her, but remained silent.
“One time,” she declared firmly. “And don’t you read anything more into it than what you said. We get this out of our systems and that’s it. That’s all.” He heard her pound a palm on the steering wheel for emphasis.
“Why?” he asked, before reason could intrude. He wasn’t even certain what he was asking about. Why had she agreed? Why was she afraid? Why limit it to a one-night stand?
“Because I said so,” she snapped. “Don’t push me, Griffin.”
He shook his head. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he muttered. But he did dream as they sped along, the vibrations of the wheels on the highway buzzing his body, the sound of a sexy saxophone on the radio insinuating its way into his little mind movie.
One time? Oh no, he didn’t think so.
Ground rules had gone right out the window. Holly could hardly keep her mind on the road. The sane part of her brain kept shouting, “Red alert! Error in progress!” The impulsive part kept making excuses as it bounced around in anticipation.
She had lost it. Why the devil had she agreed to sleep with Will Griffin?
He was awfully quiet. She risked a glance at him, fully expecting to see a self-satisfied expression on his face.
He was asleep? So much for getting him all excited.
She gunned the Jeep and sped around an eighteen wheeler. If she had any sense at all, she would keep driving top speed until they reached Atlanta. Until they met up with Eric Vinland and had a big-mouthed, ever-alert chaperon to keep her from ruining everything.
“Should have kept my trap shut,” she muttered under her breath. She straightened her arms and clutched the wheel with both hands at twelve o’clock until her knuckles turned white.
“Changed your mind already?” Will asked. He obviously had been playing possum and not sleeping at all.
She huffed. “I thought you might rather rest when we get there.”
“Yeah, right,” he drawled. Then he stretched, laying his left arm along the back of the seats so that his fingers touched her shoulder. He played with the neckline of her shirt, sliding the tip of his pinky under it to tickle her collarbone. “Relax. Where and when is up to you.”
He sounded as if he still planned to hold her to it even though he knew she was having second thoughts. She had halfway expected him to back off, maybe even apologize for the suggestion. Will was such a gentleman. But apparently his courtesy was taking the day off.
“You know this is going to be a huge mistake,” she said.
“Probably,” he agreed. “Scared?”
She rolled her eyes. “Now that’s insulting. We’re not going to talk about it.”
He shrugged. “Fine. There is such a thing as over-analyzing. Kills the spontaneity.”
“Right. Better to keep things spontaneous,” she agreed for the sake of conversation. She might even talk her way out of this. A part of her wanted to. Another part didn’t want him to let her.
“Meanwhile, we’ve got time to kill. Want to swap war stories?”
“You want to hear about my FBI ops?”
“Not particularly. How about your bust-up with that guy, the one who made you choose him or the Bureau?”
“No way. That is none of your business.”
“Zach Jefferson, I bet. Tell me it wasn’t him,” Will said, a mocking plea.
“You know Zach?”
“Matt and I went through a training course with him years ago. I know he was with the Bureau. New York, main office, right?” He waited a bit, then added, “And I heard you were with him for a while.”
The intelligence community was like a small town, rife with gossip. Now who might he have asked to find that out? And why? she wondered. “So what’s so wrong with Zach?”
Will shook his head is disgust. “The tales I could tell you. But I won’t. It’s all over between you now so it doesn’t matter.”
“What doesn’t matter?” she demanded, then immediately scoffed at herself. “You’re yanking my chain, aren’t you?”
“Caught.” He made a face. “Yeah, Jefferson was okay when we knew him. But he must be stupid in at least one respect. He blew it with you.”
This flirty side of Will was new. Or maybe she didn’t know him quite as well as she’d thought.
“Now you,” she ordered. “What dumb floozy broke your little heart?”
“Several, actually. Three to be exact, but I’m not bragging. It’s just that I tried more than once. No guts, no glory.”
“Uh-oh, where’s my violin?”
“I’ll admit I didn’t really try all that hard. Mostly the job got in the way. You know—phone calls destroying plans, couldn’t talk about work. That sort of thing.”
She figured Zach’s problem had been that he knew the score. As an agent himself, he’d been well aware that when she went out to work undercover, she faced real danger, while he worked at his desk and did background investigations. He couldn’t deal with that.
Holly wondered what was wrong with those women of Will’s. If any one of them had really loved him, they should have been able to accept what he did for a living. He sure seemed worth the trouble to her.
Will hadn’t dated any agents or operatives, not seriously or for any length of time, anyway. She had conducted his background investigation herself before Jack hired him, and knew that much. “So it was the job that sent them running?” she asked.
He took a full minute to answer. “I think that the secretive nature of it made them suspicious. The hours are so weird and inconsistent. It would be easy to use that aspect if you were inclined to cheat.”
“You sound a little doubtful. Now you don’t believe that was it?” Holly guessed.
“Only in part,” he admitted.
“You were right awhile ago,” she remarked, her eyes on the road ahead. “It’s better not to overanalyze some things. Let’s talk about the weather.”
Holly didn’t want to know what, other than his work, had caused Will’s relationships to fail. She might have to admit that the job was only one facet of her failure with Zach.
Will didn’t comment on that little errand Holly had mentioned, buying protection. He thought he detected a note of challenge in her voice when she announced they were at the hotel office and she was going in to register them.
A few minutes later, she got back in the car, said they had a room at the rear, and proceeded to drive around and park. He unfastened his seat belt and got out of the car when she did, waiting for her to lead him to their room.
It was still daylight. They had only driven for about four hours, stopping half an hour ago for gas. This was an unnecessary stop and they both knew it. What they had agreed to do was unwise and they both knew that, too. Will removed his shades. T
he building was white, the doors painted dark. He could see that much. He thought his vision was a little better, but it was hard to tell.
He hated motel rooms, any rooms where there was only one way out. It seemed sort of symbolic that their little tryst should take place in one. Only one outcome was possible if they went through that particular portal.
“Well, here we are,” she said as she closed the door behind him. The heater was on, but it was still chilly in the room. The hum obliterated the sounds of traffic outside.
Holly approached him. The room was too dark for him to see her silhouette, but he could sense her standing just within reach. She wore no perfume, but her scent teased him anyway, causing that low-level arousal he’d been experiencing all day to kick into high gear.
The image of her seemed burned into his brain, the way her lips curved when she smiled, that slow, languid blink she gave when she doubted something he’d said, the hitch of a breath she inhaled when she was about to say something she knew would draw fire. Like now.
“This is…I don’t know…awkward.” She almost whispered the words. Was nearer than he’d thought.
It was a bad idea, too. Logically, they both knew it. Only his body didn’t, and apparently, neither did hers. He reached out and she caught his hand, threading her fingers between his.
He aimed a smile in her direction and shook his head. “You’d go through with this just to keep me from saying you chickened out, wouldn’t you?”
She laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. At least that’s what I would tell myself. Amberson never backs down, or something to that effect. An excuse.”
She kissed him lightly, her breasts barely brushing his chest. “I really want to.”
There was nothing to stand in their way, he kept telling himself, yet something kept warning him this would change everything, that it would change him, possibly her, and their world as they knew it.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her anyway.
He would have this, just this one kiss, full out, no holds barred. Then he’d let her off the hook.
They could surely excuse this kiss as a moment of madness. Maybe they would even laugh it off later, chalk it up to an adrenaline high.
But he hadn’t counted on the way her mouth fitted to his, how it coalesced his other senses so they functioned only as accomplices to his one main need.
Her tongue mated with his, matching his eagerness. The sensuous groan she emitted sent hot vibrations singing through his veins.
Her hands slid beneath his shirt, fingers kneading his skin as if they meant to climb inside it. He pulled at her shirt, breaking the kiss only long enough to slip the soft knit over her head.
Their lips met again, a renewed assault. With an expertise not used in a while, he snapped the catch on her bra and raked the straps off her shoulders, sighing into her mouth as skin met skin.
Satin over steel. Her skin, so soft, the muscles beneath so firm and taut. So ready.
He felt her thumbs hook in the waistband of his sweats just as a pounding began. Loud, insistent, unnerving…on the door, not in his head.
“Police! Open up!”
Police? The spell that held Will snapped. Cold air replaced the heat of Holly against his chest. He automatically grabbed for his Glock, but it wasn’t there, of course. Hadn’t been there for some time now. Damn!
“It must be a trick.” She pressed firmly on his shoulders. “On the floor! Get down!”
He dropped at once, knowing she’d have enough to do without covering him. Never in his life had Will hated anything more than this helplessness. He couldn’t see a freaking thing. Nothing! And Holly had to face the threat alone. Had to protect them both.
“It’s okay. You can get up,” she said from a distance, probably the far side of the window. “It really is the police. Uniforms, patrol car, etcetera.”
He stood up and his sweatshirt hit him in the face. He untangled it and quickly pulled it on. He heard the door open.
“Everybody stand back! Hands over your heads. Ma’am, are you all right?” a voice drawled, sounding for all the world like Boss Hogg.
“I’m fine. What’s all this about?” Holly asked.
“We had a report that a man forced a woman into this room.” Hogg changed his tone and direction. “You over there, get down on the floor, hands behind you.”
Will assumed the position, unwilling to test Hogg’s patience. It would be interesting to see how this played out.
Holly laughed. “Really, Officer, that’s not necessary. He had his hands on my arms when we came in because he can’t see. I was leading him inside.”
“Uh-huh. So you’re a working girl. Any arrests? Any outstandings?” Hogg demanded.
“No! I am not a prostitute! I’m—”
“Just cool it, girl. We’ll see when we run you through the system.”
Will almost felt sorry for the cop. Now he’d made Holly mad. God help the man if he laid a hand on her. Holly was a second degree black belt. She would clean his uniformed clock.
“Get her purse over there and find her ID.”
It was then Will remembered that he had none with him. Holly would have her credentials, though. At the very least, her cover ID.
“She’s got two of ’em. Now ain’t that interesting? Hey, Raymond, you ever heard of any outfit called Sextant? Sound bogus to you?”
Hogg grunted his agreement. “Okay, you two gonna have to come on down to the station while we get this figgered out.” He rattled off the Miranda rights spiel, then asked if they understood.
“I do,” Holly said, biting out the words. “And I want you to understand something, you—”
Hogg butted in. “Impersonating a government official’s a federal offense. You cuff him, Ruis. I got her.”
Will didn’t fight. He kept waiting for the sound of Holly’s resistance, but apparently she was going along with this. He wondered if she was doing that just to avoid finishing what they had started.
Hogg’s partner led him out of the motel room and pushed down on his head as he stuffed him in the back seat of the cruiser.
Holly was already there, her sweet scent welcome over the smell of former inhabitants of the vehicle.
Will turned to her. “Got a plan?”
She sighed. “No, but he was waving a .357 Magnum. I didn’t want to make his day.”
“Smart. What now?”
“He’ll call the Bureau, you know. They’ll call the office. Everybody will know exactly where we are in a matter of hours, including our insider. Jack’s not gonna like this one little bit.”
“You don’t think it was a regular citizen concerned for your welfare who called this in?”
Holly scoffed. “No. I think someone wanted to see if we’re who they think we are. Chief suspect is Odin’s friend who was supposed to make sure we never climbed out of the river. He must have seen and followed us from Roanoke.”
“No, I don’t think he’s here. Not yet, anyway,” Will argued. “I was probably Odin himself who sicced the cops on us to delay things until his pal could catch up. Last night you paid cash for the hotel? No ID was requested?”
“Right.”
“But this time you needed an ID to check us in,” he guessed. “And the clerk entered it in the computer?”
“Yes, but it was my cover ID and the company credit card—”
“Which threw up a red flag someplace where Odin has eyes keeping watch,” Will finished for her. “And that was a damn quick response time. His mistake, though. Now we know he has access to our list of aliases and—”
“You two stop jawin’ back there,” Hogg ordered. “You want to talk so blamed bad, save it for when we get down to the station house.”
Holly’s breath hissed through her teeth. “I want this blowhard buried in the basement of the jail. Naked, with rats.”
Will smiled, imagining Hogg at the mercy of rodents. The guy might be better off than at the mercy of Holly Amberson, which was precisely where he w
ould be in an hour or less.
“I wish I could see that,” he said under his breath. Holly on a righteous rampage was really something to behold.
They were ushered into the station and cuffed to a couple of wooden chairs to await processing.
“Do we look as disreputable as I feel?” Will asked. They had not taken time to change into the new clothes they’d bought.
“I don’t think we’ve ever looked much worse, except maybe right after we crawled out of the river,” she admitted.
For a good hour and a half, they sat there waiting, growing more and more uncomfortable. Then a very polite Officer Ruis addressed Holly. “It’s all straightened out. Y’all are free to go. I’ll remove your restraints and drive you back to your hotel.”
“Thank you,” she said, her voice deceptively calm. “First, however, I would like a word with Officer Lloyd.”
“Uh, well, uh,” Ruis stammered, “he had to leave, see. Another call came—”
“I’ll wait,” Holly said as the cop removed the restraints from Will’s wrists.
Will knew she was loaded for bear. If he didn’t step in, this could take awhile, time they really couldn’t afford at this point.
He reached out, found her arm and grasped it. “Holly, we need to go.”
“Not yet,” she said in a clipped voice.
“Yes, now. Speed’s essential. That call was too convenient. We were set up. He’ll be waiting for us.” Odin’s sweep-up guy had been headed south when he got the call about where they were. That phone call to the local police had ensured that he and Holly would be detained and had provided time to get in place for the kill.
Chapter 8
“You think he’ll be waiting for us at the hotel?” Holly asked.
“Probably.” Will couldn’t guarantee it. He did have a strong feeling there was danger near, but he couldn’t get a fix on this guy. Why was that? Maybe it wasn’t anything psychic at all in this case, just plain old instinct kicking in, probability knocking.
He heard her take a deep breath and release it with a gust. “Okay, Ruis, let’s roll.”