The Business of Strangers

by Kylie Brant

  A thought struck her then, and she straightened abruptly. “He said something else. Something about Sammy sending his regards.” The idea that occurred then arrowed through her with caution-laced accuracy. “You don’t think…he couldn’t be referring to Secretary of Defense Samson, could he?”

  The words chilled Jake straight to the core. God Almighty, when it came to enemies, they didn’t come much more powerful than that. “I hope not,” he muttered feelingly. But the possibility couldn’t be ignored. Hendricks was the man’s closest aide. Hendricks had been C.O. at the base where at least two of the deceased soldiers had been stationed at one time. Both soldiers, Ria said, had been Army Rangers.

  “The man in the picture,” he asked suddenly, turning to look at her. “The guy with Hendricks. Was he a Ranger?” At her nod, his gut tightened into knots. He’d hoped this excursion would clear up some of their questions, but damned if he liked the answers.

  Coming to a sudden decision, he said, “We have to get you somewhere safe. The contract on you expires the day after tomorrow. If we don’t convince Hendricks you’re dead, he’ll go after you again himself, or hire someone else.”

  “He’ll come back to you first,” she predicted. If Jake wasn’t imagining things, he saw worry in her eyes. Even while he called himself every kind of a fool, that flicker of anxiety warmed him.

  “I’m counting on that. But we can get you out of the country first.”

  “And what’s to stop him from going after you? Or following through on his threat to spring Alvarez early, knowing he’ll go after you?”

  It was probably what Hendricks had planned all along. Stanton would have told him at least some of the history between the two of them. Jake knew Alvarez had been plotting his death for ten years. Even without help, his chances of succeeding were better than Jake liked to admit.

  “I already have safety precautions in place.” Nothing was fail-proof; he knew that as well as anyone. But he had resources at his disposal far beyond anything Ria could have. Of the two of them he liked his chances better.

  He wasn’t willing to chance her.

  “I can have my jet take you anywhere in the world. I know a guy who’s a master at creating false identification documents. We keep you hidden for a day, two at the most, and he can have yours ready. If Hendricks believes you’re dead, we buy ourselves some time. With any luck, we both stay alive.”

  She swallowed hard and looked away. “I was determined that if I had to run again, I’d be prepared. So I have money put aside, and two different sets of ID.”

  The news should have put him at ease. Instead, he was filled with a sense of foreboding. Her next words made it worse. “But since then I changed my mind. I’ve been running all my life. At least,” she corrected, “for as long as I can remember. I was determined to get answers and now I’m getting them. I’m not running anymore. Since Hendricks seems involved in this up to his neck, he’s the man who’s going to give them to me.”

  “You won’t get those answers if you’re dead.” Jake knew the words were blunt, but there was no use sugarcoating it. “Let me put you somewhere safe. You’re too close to the truth now to risk dying. You want someone to pay for everything that’s happened? For that woman’s death? Then you have to stay alive to be sure he does.”

  She was silent long enough for him to start considering alternatives in case she refused. Kidnapping her was starting to look like a damn fine option before she finally responded.

  “The first time someone came after me, an innocent got hurt. I won’t let that happen again.” By removing herself as a target, Ria thought bleakly, she could protect those around her. It wasn’t much, but it was something. She hated to admit it, but Jake’s plan sounded the most feasible.

  If Hendricks were convinced that Jake had killed her, he would have no reason to harm him. Hendricks had no idea his real identity had been discovered. And she wouldn’t go far, definitely not out of the country. When she left, it would be on her own terms. To a place of her choosing, a location she wouldn’t share with anyone else. Not even Jake.

  Especially not Jake.

  She could continue her search from anywhere. And she would. She was close enough now to almost taste success.

  “I’ll go tomorrow night.” When he seemed ready to argue, she went on, resolve stiffening her spine. “I want to leave things in reasonable order at the sheriff’s office.” The thought of leaving Fenton County in the lurch filled her with remorse. The other times she’d run she’d had no responsibilities, no ties. She had people depending on her now. But better to walk away from them than to put any of them at risk.

  “All right,” he said grudgingly. “I’ll call you tomorrow to make the arrangements.”

  She was already making plans. For her disappearance to look reasonable, she’d have to leave everything in her home. It wouldn’t be too difficult. She deliberately led a pretty Spartan existence. But she’d first download everything on the computer to CDs and then wipe the hard drive clean. The CDs and all records pertaining to the search would go with her.

  Wherever she ended up, she wanted to be able to continue the investigation without losing any time. Too much had passed already.

  But the pang in her heart was new. She was used to recognizing what had to be done and then doing it. This regret was different, and difficult to shake.

  She slid a glance to the man beside her. He was the cause of more than a little of it. She almost…not trusted him; she wasn’t sure she was capable of that. But he stirred a welter of feelings that were foreign to her. Feelings that left her more than a little sorrowful that they’d be separated before she’d had the opportunity to explore them.

  He looked at her then and the expression on his face drove the breath from her lungs. His pale blue eyes were softer, deeper than she’d ever seen them. And she knew she wasn’t imagining the regret shimmering in their depths.

  Frozen in time, she waited for him to speak, half hoping he would say something to shatter the spell weaving inexorably between them. But instead he remained silent, even as he reached over and scooped her into his lap.

  Ria stiffened at the unfamiliar position. She wasn’t a lap sitter. But any hint of awkwardness was dissipated in the next moment, when he buried his face in her neck.

  There was an air of weariness to the act that tugged on something deep within her. And the fingers she threaded through his hair were gentle. She’d rarely given in to self-pity or railed against the circumstances that had stripped her of memory, of possible family and friends. She’d regarded each new experience as a step toward regaining what she’d lost. But never before had she been so achingly aware of the sweetness of each moment. Perhaps she’d been given another chance to relish these feelings. Or perhaps, more frighteningly, she’d never felt this storm of emotion before.

  Whichever was the truth, she’d savor this one. Each bittersweet instant of it.

  When his mouth came in search of hers, the touch was whisper light, a mere brush of movement before he halted, lips suspended a fraction of an inch away. Their breaths mingled, the moment spinning into liquid gold. And she understood, even without words, that this would be the only real goodbye between them.

  Linking her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer, moving her lips sweetly, achingly on his. A thousand might-have-beens hovered between them. For the next little while she was going to turn aside from regret and fear and defenses.

  She was going to begin saving for an uncertain future by making memories right now. Memories to warm her in the cool shadows that fell across her bed when she lay awake at night, her mind too full to sleep. When the pressure of being alone was too suffocating.

  His tongue moved against hers, his flavor racing through her system. But he didn’t rush, didn’t take the kiss deeper. He cupped her face in both his hands, and this tenderness from him was devastating to the senses.

  Jake felt Ria go boneless, and her tiny sigh of surrender sparked the need that was nev
er quite extinguished. Still he toyed delicately with her lips, drawing out the pleasure for both of them.

  His mouth cruised along her jawline, rediscovering smooth skin and soft flesh. He knew now that sex could be easy when it was mindless and urgent. When logic was blinded by passion and doubts stilled by need. There was a distant sort of alarm at the realization, but it couldn’t compete with the enjoyment in this instant.

  He swept his hand beneath the simple black sweater she wore, felt the individual vertebrae, their delicacy belying the strength of her will. The skin there was warm and sleek, heating his palm. He traced the ridges of her scars with his thumb. She arched beneath his touch and her reaction caused little drumbeats of demand to sound in his blood. Even the most leisurely buildup could torch control.

  Drawing the sweater over her head, he tossed it aside, following in the next moment with her bra. Tormenting them both, he cupped her breasts, brushing his thumbs along their sides, stopping short of her nipples before retreating again. A tiny gasp escaped her, and she pressed into his touch, urging him to take more.

  There was a dark and reckless side of him that wanted to do just that. A part that wanted to take and take until he could satiate himself in her. Until he could be certain that he wouldn’t be tormented later by memories that held a sharp edge.

  He wouldn’t miss her once she’d gone, he’d told himself, rolling her satiny nipples between thumbs and forefingers. Regrets were a foolish waste of time. He wouldn’t close his eyes and recall her face, or be left trying to banish the scent of her from his system. He had the thought and tried to believe it.

  Ria pressed closer, little demons of need firing through her veins, making her sizzle. His hands were incinerating any attempt at control, one moment caressing and the next just a few degrees shy of rough. She yearned to feel them racing down her body, his touch possessive.

  She turned to straddle him, even as she took his mouth with hers. Her tongue darted between his lips, sneaky tempting forays designed to make him think twice about restraint. When his mouth twisted under hers and his body tensed, she knew she’d succeeded.

  Her fingers went to his shirt, and her movements deliberately slowed. Where before she’d urged a faster, deeper response, now she reined back, baring each inch of his skin with excruciating care.

  When she finally spread his shirt open he released her to press her closer. She was still for a moment, the exquisite sensation of bare flesh against bare flesh a keen-edged pleasure she wanted to savor. But too soon a greedy need for more rose up, and she twisted against him, his chest hair rasping against her sensitized nipples.

  Jake felt arousal surge through him, shattering all intentions to move slowly. Rising, he set her on her feet and finished stripping her, then turned into a quivering heap when she returned the favor.

  When they were both nude she stepped close enough for her breasts to slightly graze his chest. He took a moment to enjoy the sight of her—slender torso, rounded hips, long slender thighs. His hands went in pursuit of pleasure, roaming her body to explore every curve, every secret pulse, every sleek muscle quivering beneath her skin. And he recognized, in some distant part of his mind, that vows were useless and resolve ineffective. Ria would linger in his system despite his best efforts to banish her. He wondered if he’d even have the will to try.

  She bent to retrieve the condom he’d taken from his pocket, and, gaze fixed on his, rolled the latex over the straining length of him. Then he dropped to the couch, pulling her with him, wrapping his hands in her hair as desire burst low in his belly and scorched a path of fire through him.

  Ria settled in his lap facing him. Jake bent his head, took one of her nipples in his mouth and suckled deeply. Control abruptly receded. Her back arched and she rocked against him, the motion bringing her into intimate contact with his hardness.

  Sensations careened through her. There was the scrape of his teeth on her breast, the slight roughness of his touch as he gripped her hips. And there was pleasure in the knowledge that the memory of this moment would etch his mind as deeply as it did hers, and be as impossible to erase.

  She could feel her heart hammering in rhythm with his. The blood thundered in her veins. His muscles were tight beneath her touch, quivering with barely leashed control. The air between them thrummed with a dark and desperate passion.

  She rose to her knees, reached for him, nearly going limp at the leap of hunger she felt in his pulsing strength. With trembling fingers she positioned herself to take him in, one slow inch at a time.

  Jake’s back pressed into the cushion, sweat beading on his forehead. The languid, velvet slide of sweet flesh clenching around him had his raw nerves screaming. But there was more than the savage need clawing through him. There was the sight of her—spine arched, expression absorbed, as if she were focusing on each individual sensation.

  And he knew in that instant that this would be the picture branded on his mind. This would be the image of her he’d be doomed to remember. There’d be no keeping the thought of her from sneaking in at odd times, shattering his guard, melting his defenses.

  He clenched her hips, more than a little desperate. But she wouldn’t be rushed. By the time she took him completely, his control was ragged and his vision hazed.

  Her forehead rested against his, and his muscles ached with the need to surge blindly upward. Finally, when his senses were all but screaming, she straightened, began to move.

  He tried to let her set the pace, even as his mind reeled and greed welled inside him. But at her first broken cry, something inside him snapped.

  His hands gripping her hips, he drove upward, filling her with a completeness that tore a low groan from him. He’d never known such violent desire, which burned even as it pleasured. Ruled by a primal need to get closer, he swallowed her low throaty moans, then buried his face against her neck as he drove them both to madness.

  Damp flesh slapped against damp flesh. The air sawed out of his lungs. And when at last he felt her tense muscles quivering, he took savage delight in watching her climax around him.

  But the sound of his name on her lips had his own release springing forth, with a possessiveness he didn’t even recognize. After one last savage thrust, he followed her into a freefall of mind-shattering pleasure.

  They lay on the couch for a long time after, naked limbs tangled, waiting for their blood to stop raging. Her fingers were tangled in the hair on his chest, while he stroked a palm over the curve of her hip.

  He thought he could guess the direction of her thoughts, but when she spoke her words surprised him. “What happens when Alvarez is freed?”

  His hand stilled. “I’ve told you. He has a lot to account for.”

  “Detectives Edwards and Renard know about the rivalry between you. You’re the first person the police will look at if something happens to him.”

  Jake wasn’t convinced. It was just as likely they’d hope the two of them did each other in, and call it community improvement. “I’m going to be careful.”

  Ria propped herself on one elbow, looked at him steadily. “Who are you kidding? He’s been planning his revenge on you as long as you have his. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years it’s that no security is foolproof. If someone wants you dead badly enough, if they’re good enough, you’re dead.”

  “I know.” He’d accepted the prospect a long time ago. “I’m going to gamble that I’m better than he is, though.”

  His tone was light, but her expression didn’t change. “What can be worth that kind of risk? Surely not money. You’re practically swimming in it as it is.”

  He traced the crease of her thigh with his finger. “Spoken like someone who doesn’t respect wealth.”

  “It’s not worth it, Jake.” Her tone was certain, her gaze direct. “Whatever he did to you, revenge isn’t worth having to look over your shoulder for the rest of your life.”

  If anyone would know about life on the run, it was Ria. But she didn’t know
everything. Not even close. “It’s not about revenge.” He disentangled himself from her, sat up and reached for his clothes.

  “What do you call it, then?”

  “I call it justice.” An all too familiar block of icy anger was back, settling in his chest. For more years than he could count it had lodged there, cold and unrelenting. “He got away with murder. And one way or another, he’s going to pay for that.” Jake pulled on his jeans, shrugged into his shirt.

  Ria was slower to follow suit. She had her clothes clutched in her hands, her gaze still on him. “Whose murder?”

  “Jilly’s. My sister.” Grief and guilt could still swamp him, he discovered, the years doing nothing to dilute their tide. He buttoned his shirt and shoved the tails into his jeans. “She was older than me, but…maybe too much like my mom.” Especially when it came to her poor choice in men. “I always had to kind of look after her. When I got out of juvie she’d already moved away, gone south.”

  But he hadn’t worried about her. Remorse flickered, and he let it burn. He’d believed her stories of the great job she had in Columbus, hostess in some fancy restaurant. When she’d talked about her wealthy boyfriend, Jake’s instincts should have alerted him. But he’d been glad to accept her stories as truth. Had wanted to think that she, at least, had escaped the poverty and violence they’d grown up with.

  “The first few years she came back at Christmas, but then she started making excuses. After the second year she didn’t come home I went down to see her.”

  With crystal clarity he remembered his shock at the difference in her. Jilly had always been vibrant, proud of her dark good looks, but the woman he’d encountered in the run-down apartment she shared with two other women seemed to have aged ten years in the time since he’d last seen her. He’d recognized immediately what her brittle air, and the tracks on her arms, had meant.