“No, a man is only as good as he is. Period.”
He winced.
If he looked at it that way, he’d have an awful lot to apologize for.
Thankfully he didn’t share her viewpoint. While he appreciated it, maybe even admired it in some sort of rebellious way, he sided with the law. Humans didn’t survive this long by continuing to beat each other over the heads with spiked clubs.
He shifted to look at her in the dim light. Who was this woman? He recalled the photo of the girl looking up in idol worship at the militia guy at her side.
“Are your parents alive?” he asked quietly.
Her brows came together briefly. “My mom is. She’s living over in Santa Fe somewhere. She’s an artist.”
“And your dad?”
He noticed the way her chin dug into chest, a protective maneuver meant to cover but instead revealed. “He went MIA in Bosnia. Assumed dead.”
“Which branch?”
“Army. Of course.”
He smiled. Of course.
That explained how her anarchist little heart had ended up in the military in the first place.
Still, it didn’t explain how she’d ended up with a scumbag like Butler.
“How about yours?” she asked.
“Mine?”
“Your parents. Still with us?”
“Mom, yes. Dad unfortunately passed a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.”
She didn’t ask and he didn’t volunteer how he’d died. Truth was, he still wasn’t good at sharing the story of how he’d lost his father. It had been a shock, right out of left field. He’d had a massive coronary. The autopsy had read that he’d had major blockages in three of his major arteries, something his regular check-ups hadn’t found because he’d been in such excellent shape otherwise. He’d been a marathon runner, a swimmer, a golfer. You name it, if it was something to do outside, his dad did it.
Yet it hadn’t helped him escape death when it came knocking.
His cell phone rang on the end table. He glanced at the clock. It was just after 2:00 a.m.
Couldn’t be good news.
He picked it up and read the display—the same “friend” number Julie had used earlier.
Damn.
He added the number to the Refuse list and put the cell phone back down.
Silence reigned for a while. Then he heard Mara’s soft laugh.
“I take it that was Julie?”
Jon closed his eyes and rubbed his lids. He didn’t have to ask how she knew. When she’d held him captive at the warehouse earlier, she’d surely gotten a look at his cell display.
“Yeah,” he admitted.
“So, are you going to marry her?”
10
REECE WENT INTO A COUGHING fit so violent Mara ran to the bathroom to get him water. She stopped short of smacking him on the back, but just barely. She turned on the light, as much for him to see the cup as for her to see the expression on his face.
Yep, he was shocked.
She fought the urge to smile.
“I take it that means no,” she said quietly.
Reece gulped the water and then dragged his wrist across his mouth. “You take it correctly.”
Mara picked up the towel and wrapped it around herself, although she was completely comfortable sitting there nude. “But she is your girlfriend.”
His grimace told her that his problems with Julie-with-a-Heart predated her entering his life.
Good. She didn’t like the thought of being the other woman.
Although technically she wasn’t. They were merely two ships passing in the night. He was a military gunner; she was a pirate ship.
And she fully intended to outrun, outwit and outplay him.
Of course, that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy him while she was at it. And, oh, boy, was she enjoying him.
He sat up on the other side of the bed, then got up and stood into his jeans before going into the bathroom and closing the door.
Mara sat back against the headboard and waited for him. This was far too interesting to let slip.
A good fifteen minutes passed before he finally came out shaking water from his hands, his hair damp. She knew he hadn’t taken a shower. She would have heard him if he had. Rather, she could imagine him standing there, staring into the mirror for a good long while before splashing cold water on his face.
“Would you rather not talk about it?” she asked, incapable of stopping the smile that threatened.
“I’d rather not, thanks.”
She patted the spot next to her. “Tough. Come tell me.”
He glowered at her. “Not a chance.”
“Not a chance you’ll get back into bed with me? Or that you’ll tell me about Julie?”
“Both.”
He put his T-shirt on.
“I’m going for coffee. You want some?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
He fastened his shoulder holster and grabbed his keys and cell phone. “I’ll be back.”
“When?”
“When I’m back.”
She laughed.
He slammed the door after himself.
* * *
WHAT IN THE HELL was he doing?
Jon asked himself the question over and again as he walked aimlessly….
Just yesterday he’d been a guy hoping for a solo assignment that would change his professional life. He’d intended to live happily ever after with what he’d believed was the girl of his dreams. Instead, he’d gotten a job that had turned his personal life upside down and made him realize Julie was a nightmare.
But what did that make Mara?
A wet dream?
He ran his hand over his hair as he glanced at his watch. He was aware he’d left Mara back at the motel unrestrained and alone. But at this point, he didn’t think she was going anywhere. He didn’t know how he knew, but he did.
Still, he didn’t think it a good idea to leave her by herself for too long in case she decided to consider her options.
He bought two coffees to go from the all-night diner and walked across the lot to room #3. Opening the door, he encountered much the same scene as he had a few hours before: Mara was fast asleep on her side of the bed. The difference was she was covered by a sheet…and her hands were free.
He put the coffee down next to the bag of food he’d gotten earlier, slightly amused to find she’d taken a couple of bites out of the burger and finished the pie.
He walked to her side of the bed, glancing down at her sleeping face.
Damn.
It probably would have been better not to look.
Mara wasn’t beautiful by any stretch. Her features were too unusual. Her eyes were too large, her nose too small, her mouth almost too generous. But she was animated even at rest. And there was an electricity about her that mesmerized him. Her information sheet said she was a natural blonde, but you couldn’t tell by looking at her red hair now. He tried to image her otherwise and couldn’t. She seemed more of a redhead or a brunette than a blonde.
Then again, who was he to say? He’d thought Julie was an angel when he first met her.
And he’d even considered marrying her.
So why hadn’t he proposed?
He was looking at the reason why.
Oh, not because he was under any misconception that he was in love with Mara. But he had slept with her. For that reason alone, he knew he couldn’t marry Julie.
The woman he married would keep him from wanting to sleep with anyone else.
But why hadn’t he taken the leap before he met Mara?
He realized that perhaps, deep
down, he’d always known his and Julie’s paths would part.
He quietly walked to the other side of the bed and sat down heavily in the only chair in the room, propping his elbows on his knees.
What was he doing?
Sure, in his late teens, early twenties, he’d certainly known his share of women. He’d dated frequently and hadn’t thought much about taking sex where it was offered. But that was back then.
And, well…he’d lived with Julie.
He couldn’t help noticing he’d used the past tense, and his brain froze.
Yes, okay, it was over. It probably had been for a while. It was just taking a while for him to catch up with the truth. Things hadn’t been good between them for a long time. In fact, things probably hadn’t been good even before they’d rented the small house together on the outskirts of Colorado Springs two months ago. But he’d loved her and so he’d gone ahead.
He caught his unconscious word choice again.
Did he really not love her anymore?
No. He loved her. He was just no longer in love with her.
He groaned inwardly and rubbed his hands over his face. What in the hell was happening to him? He sounded like a woman, for God’s sake.
Whatever was going on, he decided he didn’t much like this emotional stuff.
So what did he do? Did he go back to Colorado Springs and tell Julie he was moving out? Their lease was month-to-month, so he could probably pack a bag and bunk with one of the guys at Lazarus until he found his own place. Of course, he’d kick in for the final month’s rent.
Was it enough time? Would she be upset?
He realized the snort he heard was his own. Of course she was going to be upset. Upset was her middle name. This, however, might be worthy of a nuclear meltdown. And it might very well involve lawyers.
He stared straight ahead. Would she do that? Yes, he fully expected she would.
Not that it would stop him from breaking things off.
He scratched the back of his head, wondering if it was really just last week that he’d been considering a Christmas Day proposal a few months from now.
His gaze settled on the sleeping form of the woman who had changed his life.
Or, rather, opened his eyes to the truth.
Mara dozed away as if she hadn’t a care in the world, when, in fact, her cares were heavier than most. And definitely more complicated than his.
Damn, but she was sexier than hell. Merely remembering the way she’d ridden him, her back arched, breasts high, her breath coming in humming gasps…
He was rock-hard all over again.
He sat back and folded his hands over his stomach. Funny, despite all the talking they’d done earlier about her “question,” she had never answered the question herself. Then again, she really hadn’t had to. He knew her answer would be “no, she didn’t do it.”
And, strangely enough, he believed her.
Of course, what that meant in the larger scheme of things, he didn’t know.
Yes, he did. It meant he wouldn’t be surrendering her to the nearest federal courthouse at first light.
He waited for reason to weigh in.
Nothing.
Instead, he felt a total sense of calm, certainty that he was doing the right thing.
No, he wasn’t letting her go. To do so would be nothing short of insane. Not merely because of his job, but because she was obviously in major trouble. Knowing what he did now, he had little doubt those two men at the sheriff’s office were members of the same militia to which she’d once belonged.
He also had no doubt that they’d been there to kill her.
To leave her now, well, while he didn’t view her as anything close to helpless, everyone could use a little help now and again.
At any rate, his brain was beginning to register the strains of extra innings.
The question now was whether he dared crawl back into that bed with her.
He heard her soft snore and smiled.
Yes, yes, he did.
11
MARA’S FACE WAS WARM. She blinked open her eyes to the sunlight, then clamped them shut. Too bright.
She smiled and rolled over, feeling better than she had in a good, long while. Like a cat that had been properly fed, had its belly rubbed and was now stretched out in sated bliss.
Then her circumstances washed over her and she jackknifed upright.
“Good morning.”
She looked to find Reece sitting in the chair drinking coffee and reading what looked like a newspaper.
She squinted, trying to slow her heart rate. On a sliding scale, she was mightily glad she’d woken up to him rather than the alternative. Still, there was something wrong with this picture. It was… It was…
A little too normal. Too…domestic.
“I got one for you if you want it,” he said, gesturing to a second coffee cup.
Dangerous. Very definitely dangerous. It wasn’t just the fact that she’d slept so soundly, without thought to what was going on around her that worried her. No, something within her was reacting to Reece in a way with which she was unfamiliar.
It was a toss-up as to which was more dangerous.
Mara stripped off the sheet, leaving herself obviously bare. She enjoyed his automatic stare as she got up and slowly walked to the table to take the second cup. If she was trying to reset the tone back to sex and awe…well, that was between her and her still-tingling thighs.
“Thanks,” she said.
She was fully aware the curtains were open and anyone walking by could see her if they looked. It made Reece’s attention all the hotter.
She took a long sip from the extralarge takeout cup. “Just as I like it. Strong and black.” She reached for the paper. “Anything interesting?”
He moved it out of her reach then showed her the cover article. Melee at Winslow Sheriff’s Office: Deputy Injured. Two Unknown Suspects, Considered Armed And Dangerous, On the Loose.
There was a grainy photo of the two suspects.
Mara took another sip of coffee. “You’d think they’d have better security cameras.”
“You can say that again.”
“At least no one’s dead.”
“The sheriff’s deputy is in critical condition.”
Mara’s hand stilled.
“No mention of our presence,” he said.
She began walking toward the bathroom. “What does that matter? I’m wanted for a capital crime already.”
“Yes, you are.”
She looked over her shoulder to find him reading the paper rather than looking at her ass as she’d hoped. She gathered her clothes, then went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. But instead of climbing right in, she stood for a moment leaning against the wall, staring into the building steam.
She hated the thought that someone had been hurt because of her. While she could argue until she was blue in the face that she’d warned Reece not to go there, the fact was that deputy was in pain because those gunmen had been after her.
She hoped he recovered.
A part of her whispered she should be glad she wasn’t on the receiving end of those bullets.
She climbed into the shower. But she wasn’t in there a minute before Reece was ripping the shower curtain open—for reasons that had nothing to do with sex.
* * *
“FBI HAS CAUGHT UP WITH US.”
Jon grabbed a towel and thrust it at her, trying not to notice how the water sluiced over the tips of Mara’s breasts down to between her thighs.
Aw, hell.
One moment he’d been reading the newspaper—or trying to, considering thoughts of a naked Mara mere feet away taking a shower had proved one hell of a distraction—and
the next, he had watched a dark SUV drive into the parking lot in front of the motel office. Two dark-suited men with dark sunglasses had gotten out, incapable of looking more like federal agents had they flashed their IDs in his direction.
Mara took the towel and was out of the shower quicker than he’d have thought possible. “What’s the plan?”
Jon had closed the curtains over the front window, but his Jeep was parked directly in front. And he had little doubt that he was the reason the FBI had found them there. Likely there had been footage of him and Mara at the Winslow sheriff’s office after all, only it hadn’t been for public consumption. The way facial identification programs were today, he suspected it would take very little to put his face together with his name. And once they did that…
Well, he’d paid for the room with his Lazarus credit card.
As he had the Jeep.
Damn.
Mara rushed into the room and was dressed faster than a firefighter on her way to a four-alarm blaze.
“There’s only the one exit,” he said.
She’d moved toward the window and peeked through the curtains without touching them. “Yes, well, we’d better find another one quick. They’re in the office and the clerk is pointing in this direction.”
Great.
Jon considered his options. There weren’t many.
Then he spotted the air vent in the bathroom ceiling.
He reached for his duffel and took out the toolkit, finding the necessary screwdriver. He went to work on the vent screws.
“That’s barely wide enough for me to get through.”
“Exactly.”
“But…”
There.
He eased out the grate and turned toward her. “Ready?”
“What are you going to do?”
“Whatever it takes.”
He told her what he had in mind. She nodded and when he offered her a boost, she took it. Into the vent she went.
A minute later, a knock sounded at the door.
Jon reattached the grate, grabbed the extra coffee cup, the handcuffs and the bottle of lotion and went into the bathroom, where he splashed cold water over his face and hair and was at the door when another knock sounded.
“Jonathon Reece?” the agent on the right said.
Guilty Pleasures Page 7