Betrayed

by Rebecca York

  Her eyes had closed, and she heard him whisper in her ear, “Look at me.”

  When she did, he asked, “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

  “Can’t you tell?” she asked in a shaky voice.

  “I want to hear you say it.”

  “I want to make love with you.”

  “Even though you’ve never done it before?”

  She felt her face heat. “How do you know?”

  “I can tell. Answer me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re asking too many questions.”

  “I’m trying to make sure I’m not taking advantage of you.”

  Long ago, she’d heard her brother talking with his friends. Using their whispered conversation as a guide, she reached out and cupped her hand over the rigid flesh at the front of Shane’s pants.

  He sucked in a sharp breath as she pressed her palm against him, then grasped him through the knit fabric.

  With a muttered curse, he raised over her and tugged her sweatpants down and off, before doing the same with his.

  Then he reached for her, folding her close and pressing his body to hers. She thought he would plunge inside her then. Instead, he moved against her, stroking her with his penis the way he had stroked her with his hand, increasing her arousal to a point where she knew she was going to fly into a million pieces.

  Orgasm grabbed her, rocked through her. And as she felt herself coming back to earth, he changed the angle of his body, thrusting inside her.

  There was a moment of pain, but it was over quickly. She clung to him, feeling his strong thrusts before he went rigid above her, calling out as he joined her in ecstasy.

  He was still for several long seconds, then rolled to the side, taking her with him.

  She nestled against him, hardly able to believe what they had done.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Better than all right.”

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “Only a little,” she whispered. She was thinking that he had known exactly what he was doing. But she kept the words locked behind her lips.

  He held her, stroking back her dark hair and trailing his lips against her cheek, and she loved this part, too. The part that came after making love. She drifted on her feeling of contentment for a few more minutes, until she felt him ease away. “You should sleep.”

  “What about you?”

  “I should keep watch.”

  “I thought you set up an alarm.”

  “Yeah, but I want to make sure nobody sneaks up on the boat.”

  She wanted to keep him with her, but he climbed out of bed, and she felt a sudden chill as the warmth of his body left her.

  “You should put your clothes on,” he said. “In case we have to make a quick getaway.”

  She nodded, thinking that making love with him had been glorious. Beyond anything she could have imagined. He’d made her forget about the bad guys who were after them and about her brother. He’d made her forget about everything but the two of them making love. Now he was back to business. And maybe that was the right thing to do, from his point of view. Or was he trying to distance himself from her? Not only physical distance but emotional distance. Or maybe he really was concerned about keeping watch.

  When he turned away to pull on his sweatpants, she picked her borrowed clothing up from the floor and pulled on the T-shirt before the sweatpants.

  Then she walked stiffly out of the room and down the hall to the small bathroom.

  ***

  Jerome Weller waited for news from the team that had gone out to take care of Gallagher and Reyes. He wanted Gallagher dead, especially after the confrontation at his apartment. But he needed Reyes alive because he had to find out what she’d done with the information from S&D. Of course, that left plenty of room for screwups.

  When the phone finally rang, he looked at the caller ID, then snatched up the receiver. “Did you get them?”

  There was a hesitation on the other end of the line.

  “Jesus Christ. Spit it out.”

  “They got away.”

  “How?”

  He listened to a jumbled account of how they’d taken a boat and then faked out the pursuers.

  “So they could have swum to safety.”

  “Or they could have drowned,” his man said.

  Jerome managed to hold back a string of curses. “Are you looking for them?”

  “Not a good idea,” the man said.

  “And why is that?” he asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

  “In the first place, that firefight and the explosive charges he set off brought the cops running. If we’re on the road tonight, we could get caught. And it’s worse along the river. We’d have to dock and check out every estate. And that makes it likely someone would see us.”

  Much as he hated to admit it, Jerome had to agree. All they needed was police involvement.

  “Stay in the area and lie low until it looks like things have calmed down,” he said.

  “Will do.”

  ***

  Feeling torn in two, Shane watched Elena walk out of the room, presumably heading for the bathroom. He wanted to jump up and pull her close. He wanted to stroke her and kiss her and tell her she was the best thing that had happened to him in eons. And at the same time, he felt as though he was doing the right thing by backing off. Or repairing a mistake. She’d deliberately seduced him, and he’d let her do it because, under the circumstances, his defenses were down. Dammit.

  He’d been attracted to her since the moment he’d set eyes on her, but he’d told himself that a personal relationship with her was off limits while he was working for S&D. Then he’d practically pulled every trick he could think of to make sure he was going to do the wrong thing. Now she was probably thinking that he was sorry that they’d made love. And he was confused enough to wonder if he was.

  ***

  After stepping into the bathroom, Elena looked over her shoulder to make sure Shane hadn’t followed her down the hall. She still had to leave the door open to see what she was doing, but when she was sure she was alone, she took off her pants again and used a wad of toilet tissue to wash herself off, seeing the mixture of blood and sticky liquid. Proof that the scene between them hadn’t been another dream.

  She flushed the evidence, then put her pants back on. She knew he’d be watching her when she came back to the bedroom. Truly, it would be easier to walk off the boat and disappear into the night. But she knew that wasn’t a good idea. And she knew she couldn’t let her insecurities drive her.

  Shane had wanted her. He’d taken good care of her when they made love. But now he was probably having second thoughts. She’d just have to prove to him that he hadn’t made a mistake.

  With that in mind, she walked slowly down the hall and into the bedroom. Her gaze went to the bed. Of course Shane wasn’t there. He was sitting in the corner, cradling his gun in his lap. She wanted to go to him and hug him, but his posture kept her on the other side of the room.

  A few minutes ago, he’d asked her if she was okay, and she’d said, “Better than all right.”

  He’d made wonderful love to her, but as she looked at him, she was surer than ever that he was thinking he’d made a mistake by giving in to temptation.

  Maybe she should silently climb into bed and pretend that she could sleep. Instead, she stayed where she was.

  “Are you angry with me?” she asked, her own voice startling her in the silence of the room.

  He sat up straighter. “Of course not.”

  She wondered if it was an automatic response.

  “Then what?”

  “Like I said, I have to keep watch.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I don’t want them to get the
ir hands on you.”

  She answered with a tight nod. She stood where she was for a few more moments, then lay down and closed her eyes enough so that she could peer out from behind the screen of her lashes, watching Shane’s granite profile and wishing she knew what he was truly thinking.

  He didn’t move, and finally she really did close her eyes, knowing it would be better if she got some sleep, since she had no idea what they would be facing in the morning. Somehow she managed to drift off, but her slumber was marred by dreams of her brother. Men were chasing him, catching him, doing things to him that made her gasp.

  And it was all her fault.

  She struggled toward consciousness and woke in the gray light that gathers before the sun comes up. Everything that had happened the day before came back to her in a rush. The good and the bad.

  Making love with Shane had been more than she could have imagined. Then he had turned away from her, and she’d felt as though a piece of herself had been torn away.

  She glanced over at him. He was sleeping in his chair, his gun still in his lap. She wanted to go to him. But she’d woken up feeling like she’d stabbed her brother in the back. She was praying that he was all right, but she had to know. She was sure Shane wouldn’t want her to call Alesandro. But she had to do it if she could.

  Could she sneak out of the boat and get back before Shane woke up?

  She had to try.

  Chapter 17

  Elena eased quietly off the bed, stopping to check that she hadn’t wakened Shane.

  When he didn’t move, she breathed a small sigh and crossed the room. From the hall, she stopped again to check on him, then made a stop in the bathroom where she put on her sandals. They were still damp and stiff, but better than walking barefoot on the rough boards of the dock.

  In the main cabin, she searched the countertops and drawers, looking for a phone and making a frustrated sound when she didn’t find one.

  ***

  Shane had been watching Elena through slitted eyes. He hadn’t trusted her from the start, and now she was practically proving that she was up to something sneaky. Unless, of course, she was only getting up to go to the bathroom and didn’t want to wake him.

  But he wouldn’t bet she was doing something innocent, not from the look on her face. The moment she went down the hall, he got out of his chair and quietly crossed to the doorway. He could hear her moving around in the main cabin, opening drawers and cabinets—apparently looking for something—but he stayed well back, out of sight. He heard the bell that he’d set up as an alarm give a hollow clank, presumably because she was holding on to the metal.

  He cautiously made his way to the back of the boat in time to see her climb through the opening in the canvas. Once she was out of the cabin, he crept forward, watching her cross the deck and stand for a moment before starting toward the side where the boat was tied to the dock.

  ***

  On the dock, Elena looked around, trying to get her bearings. About fifty yards away was a massive red-brick house. A mansion in what she recognized as colonial style, like at Williamsburg. It had a large center structure and smaller wings on either side. If anyone was home, there was no sign of them. Maybe they were so rich that they could afford to keep a house where they only came on weekends.

  If she tried to get into the main building, she’d probably set off an alarm. But to her right was a swimming pool, and beside it was a building that was big enough to be a family home. She suspected that it was only a guesthouse or a pool house. Maybe there was a phone in there.

  She hurried down the pier to a path made of stepping-stones. It led to the main house, so she turned off onto the lawn. Running across the open space, she made it to the smaller building and moved to the side away from the main house, where she looked in a window.

  She saw a large room with a ceramic tile floor and comfortable sofas and chairs that looked like they were covered in fabrics that wouldn’t be ruined by the pool water. There was a fireplace at one end of the room. At the other end was a kitchen area. And on the counter was what she’d been looking for—a phone. A landline, which she hoped meant the phone was in working condition and didn’t need a battery charge. But could she get in there?

  She started moving around the house, testing doors and windows. There were two bedrooms in the back with sliding glass doors that were locked, as were the windows. Then she came to one that seemed to give when she pushed at it. She worked it up and down, feeling it loosen more. Finally the upper sash came free, and she felt some of the tightness in her chest ease, thankful that she didn’t have to break a window to get in.

  After pushing the sash all the way up, she climbed inside. She was in a room that had a television and several video-game controllers.

  The main seating area was down the hall, and she hurried there, then crossed to the kitchen counter. Relief flooded through her when she picked up the phone receiver and heard a dial tone.

  She knew she couldn’t talk long. Someone might be able to trace a call if they had time. She’d just make sure her brother was okay and then hang up. She punched in Alesandro’s cell number and waited with her heart pounding as the phone rang. One, two, three, four rings. Was something wrong? Finally he picked up, and she let out the breath she was holding.

  “Alesandro.”

  “You finally called. Gracias a Dios.” His voice sounded strange, like it hurt to move his lips.

  “Where are you? Are you all right?”

  “No, I’m not all right, estúpida,” he said, his tone turning hard and derisive.

  She caught her breath at the way he’d addressed her, then struggled for calm. He was like this when he was upset.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Thanks to you not doing what you said you’d do, those men have me.” He made a strangled sound, and she could hear the pain in his voice now. “They’ve been beating the crap out of me, and it’s all your fault.”

  “No.”

  “Oh yes. They want that thing you took from Blake’s office. They’re going to kill me if you don’t turn it over.”

  She caught her breath again.

  “Where are you?” he demanded. “They can send someone to pick you up.”

  Before she could answer, the receiver was yanked from her hand and slammed back into the cradle. She had no idea who was behind her. The homeowner? The thugs? All her muscles tensed as she prepared to defend herself as best she could. Or perhaps to explain why she was trespassing.

  When large hands spun her around, she saw that Shane was standing behind her.

  His eyes glittered with anger. Anger at her and maybe at himself as well. When his hand tightened on her arm, she winced. “I knew I couldn’t trust you,” he growled. “Too bad I couldn’t stay awake.”

  “You can trust me,” she said weakly.

  He answered with a harsh laugh. “Then what the hell are you doing, sneaking off the boat so you can tell them where we are?”

  She swallowed hard. “I wasn’t going to tell them that.”

  “But you were trying to make sure I didn’t know you were leaving the boat.”

  She answered with a little nod.

  “I’d love to hear exactly what you think you’re doing,” he said, punching out the words. He kept his hand on her, but he took his eyes from her face for a few seconds to scan the grounds outside the guesthouse.

  She fought the need to wrap her arms protectively around her shoulders. Lifting her head, she said, “I woke up worried about my brother. I was worried those men had gotten him, and he told me they had. They hurt him. Badly, I think.” She dragged in a breath and let it out. “I have to take that SIM card back to him, or they’ll kill him.”

  “And what do you think will happen then?”

  “I’ll save him.”

  Shane snorted. “It sounds like that card is the only t
hing keeping him alive—and you and me, for that matter. I mean, come on. As soon as they get what they want, they’ll kill us all.”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “We’re witnesses.”

  She didn’t answer, but now that she’d had a chance to think about it, she was afraid he might be right.

  She saw his eyes narrow.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m wondering if they can trace us through that phone call.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “I wasn’t going to talk long. I didn’t talk long.”

  “You were in the middle of what sounded like a long conversation when I got here.”

  She closed her eyes and opened them again. “He sounded awful. I…”—she raised one shoulder—“made some mistakes. I’m sorry.”

  “Which mistakes were those? Sleeping with me—or making that phone call?”

  “The phone call,” she answered, but she couldn’t help wondering about her foolish seduction the night before.

  ***

  Shane shook his head, trying to decide what to believe. He’d caught her in a compromising position, but she could be telling the truth about her motives. The trouble was, he was too emotionally involved to figure that out. But one thing he knew, if he let her get away from him now, she was going to get herself killed.

  “I was worried about my brother,” she said again in a low voice.

  “Is he worth it?”

  “I don’t know. But he’s my family.”

  Shane snorted. “I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t put his life on the line for you.”

  Her expression turned sad. “I think that’s right.”

  “Then why risk getting killed for him?”

  She answered quickly. “My values aren’t the same as his. I have to be loyal to him.”

  Even as he made a dismissive sound, Shane knew what she meant. At least about loyalty. His wife had pulled the rug out from under him, proving she didn’t give a damn about their marriage. He’d been soured on the whole human race until he’d met Max Lyon and Jack Brandt under pretty trying circumstances. That night in jail had been a shortcut to getting to know their characters. He’d seen they were both determined and sure of their values—which appeared to be the same as his. And over the months they’d been together, he’d come to know them better than anyone else he’d ever met.