by Jenna Kernan
“Nobody home,” he said. He reached for the window to the left of the escape. It held a flimsy accordion plastic that filled the gap between the partial window frame and the room AC unit set in the opening.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting us some supplies.” With the plastic retracted, it was an easy matter to lift the window. He set the AC on the landing of the fire escape and stepped inside. Haley followed.
The combo living and dining room was dark and empty. The lights from the parking lot beyond supplied ample illumination for him to see the neat stack of mail on the circular table. Letters in one pile, magazines in another and catalogs in still another. Someone, a neighbor perhaps, was keeping an eye on things, picking up the mail.
That meant he had time.
He lifted the AC back into the apartment, shut and locked the window. His initial recon showed that this couple, like many, had opted to remove their landlines. In other words, he found no phone with which to check in. He booted up their computer and was faced with a password request. Checking under the keyboard, mouse pad and corkboard yielded nothing. He flipped off the computer.
His next stop was the kitchen sink, where he drank from the spigot. Then he encouraged Haley to do the same, but she retrieved a glass from the dish rack instead. Once she’d had her fill, he shut off the stream.
“Go in the bedroom and see if you can find a bag, knapsack or large purse. Also a change of clothing.”
“Who lives here?” she asked.
He lifted a bit of mail and read. “Mr. and Mrs. Todd Weller.” Then he returned the mail to the pile and glanced up at her. “Let’s hope Todd is a large and Mrs. Todd is a small.”
She headed through the doorway and then appeared a moment later.
“May I use the bathroom?” she whispered.
“Yes. Use whatever you want but leave everything exactly as it is.”
She disappeared and he rummaged in the drawers collecting cordage, a lighter. He heard the toilet flush and the water run. He left his rummaging to search the bedroom. He lay out clothing on the bed for each of them, then she emerged to stand beside him, looking down at the selections.
“Took things from the bottom of each drawer. With luck they won’t even miss them.”
He excused himself to use the bathroom and found an old claw-foot tub anchoring the room. He finished and took a moment to wash his face, surprised at the amount of grit on his skin. When he returned to her it was to find her staring at the bed with arms folded.
“I hate to get into clean clothing when I’m this filthy,” she said.
He wouldn’t usually indulge himself but Haley surely deserved to bathe. He’d keep watch.
“Okay, just a quick shower.”
She clapped her hands and spun. Then she disappeared into the bathroom. He stuffed the clothing into his bag on the chance they’d have to make a fast exit. Then he returned to the living room and bolted the door.
If the neighbor looking after things made an appearance, he or she would not be able to get in.
Premises secure, he returned to the bedroom, where he heard the sound of water.
He opened the door. She showered in the darkness. Filtered blue light crept in from the window behind the bathtub, making the outline of her form visible.
“Haley? Do you have a towel?”
“No. Isn’t there one on the holder?”
“Nope. I’ll find something.” It didn’t take long to discover the linen closet. He collected two towels and retraced his steps. When he returned he told her that the towels were on the sink.
“Are you going to shower?”
He hadn’t planned to but with Haley naked in the cascading water, he thought the idea too tempting to resist.
“Sure. Let me know when you’re done.”
“Just let me get the soap from my eyes.” A moment later the water flicked off and her hand emerged. “Towel?”
He extended it to her. The shower curtain billowed as she dried and then emerged with the towel wrapped around herself and rolled to remain in place—unless he gave a sharp tug.
His fingers itched as he resisted the impulse.
“That felt wonderful!” She grinned. “Your turn. Go on.”
He tugged off his shirt and let it fall in the pile of her clothing. She stepped back, the smile replaced with a wide-eyed stare.
“Nothing you haven’t seen,” he said.
He unfastened the cargo pants and she spun around, presenting him with her back. He took a moment to notice that her hair curled in ringlets and dripped into the absorbent towel. Water droplets rolled down her long bare legs.
Ryan stepped out of his pants and briefs, glad that she didn’t see him, dirty, aroused and hungry as a wolf to taste that sweet damp flesh. He stepped into the tub and dragged the curtain around him.
A moment later he was under a cascade of warm water. The abrasions stung. He washed quickly but not so quickly that the water did not transition from warm to cold. Just what he needed, he thought.
He flicked off the water and the towel appeared before him on Haley’s extended arm.
“Thanks.”
He dried off and told himself he was not getting lucky. For one thing, Haley was not that sort of woman. For another, he had a rule about sleeping with women who he might see again. He didn’t do it because once you had sex, everything changed. Women became more demanding.
But he was tempted.
He wrapped the towel around his waist and dragged the curtain away.
She was using a finger to brush her teeth and offered him the tube. Then she rinsed her mouth and gargled. The sound made him smile, it was so guileless and normal. She rummaged in the medicine cabinet and found deodorant spray. She bounced with delight and then applied a liberal amount.
Haley borrowed a comb and face cream and lotion, returning everything exactly where she had found it. The sight of her rubbing the lavender-scented cream down her long legs caused a sharp pang of desire.
He didn’t sleep with women he liked. It was another rule to keep him from getting too attached. And he liked Haley enough to risk his mission for her. It was baffling.
“Want some?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“Come on, I’ll rub it into your back.” She stepped behind him. “Should feel good on those healing scabs. Keep them from breaking open.”
Before he could stop her, her gentle hands were massaging the lotion into his skin. She kneaded his sore muscles and stroked down the center of his back. He gripped the sink and just kept himself from groaning in pleasure.
“Feel good?” she asked, the mirth evident in her voice.
“So good.”
She stepped around him and pressed the lotion bottle into his chest. “You can reach the rest.”
He gripped the lotion when he wanted to grip her.
She strode from the bathroom on bare feet. By the time he had collected himself enough to follow, Haley had dropped her towel and was sliding into a man’s T-shirt that gaped at the neck. He should have waited.
“That one was for me.”
He caught sight of the tempting curve of her backside and the perfect symmetry of her back before the top fell into place, reaching mid-thigh.
“We need to find you something that fits.”
He knew why that didn’t. The photo on the bureau showed a fortyish couple who were both running toward XXL.
She turned toward him and smiled, unaware of the hurricane of desire swirling inside him.
“This is good for now,” she said. “I’m going to get us something to eat and then I’ll try to find something smaller.”
She was going to walk around in nothing but a T-shirt? His body ached at the thought of what lay beneath that thin sheath of cotton.
“No lights,�
�� he said.
He watched her go, wondering what she would do if he took her in his arms and kissed her like he wanted. Instead he stripped off the towel and used it on his hair. Then he dressed for travel in a black T-shirt and wool crew neck sweater. The pants were a problem, as each pair he tried on was miles too big. He settled for clean socks and his dirty cargo pants. They had the capability to carry small items and they fit.
When he reached the kitchen it was to the rhythmic sound of Haley beating eggs.
“Not much in the fridge. They must have cleaned it out before leaving. But I found bread, cheese and eggs. So, omelet and toast, all right?”
“Perfect.” Ryan continued loading gear into the bag he’d commandeered. He was ready to travel as she finished cooking, slipped a huge omelet onto a plate and then set it on the table.
“You eat,” she said and turned back to the stove.
The food all but disappeared and he was just finishing his toast when she sat with a smaller portion. Haley did not take any extra time in finishing off her meal. When she sat back, they shared a smile.
“I feel almost human again. What a luxury.”
“You’ve been very brave through all this,” he said.
“Brave?” she laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”
“It isn’t. You’ve kept up, handled all unanticipated obstacles well. I’d be happy to work with you as an agent.”
She gaped at him. “If my dad could only hear you say that.”
Haley stood to clear the table and he followed her to the sink. She washed and he dried. Then they put the items away exactly as they had been, minus the bread, butter, eggs and cheese.
“Think they’ll notice?” she asked.
“Not immediately. They’ll suspect the person they gave access to.”
“And the clothing?”
“Hard to notice what is missing. Much easier to spot something that doesn’t belong.”
She turned off the tap and replaced the sponge on the drying rack. “What now?”
* * *
HE WAS SMILING down at her and she noted a definite change in the air. It felt charged with energy, some invisible zip that danced between them.
“Ryan?” she said, tentative now.
He turned and placed his hands on her hips. She stepped forward, resting a damp hand on his shoulder. He smelled of soap and aftershave. She admired the clean planes of his cheeks and the strong line of his jaw.
“You shaved,” she said and could not resist stroking the smooth skin.
He hummed and pressed his cheek against her palm as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment. Then he straightened, looking down at her.
“I want to thank you,” he said. “If you hadn’t stopped for me, I’d be dead and the mission a failure. If you hadn’t distracted that young state police officer, I would have had to disarm him and our escape would have been in jeopardy. I was serious when I said you are a brave woman. The one you described, the one who can’t handle risk, I haven’t seen her.”
She smiled at the compliment. Somehow she felt more herself with Ryan than she did alone in her apartment in Brooklyn. It was almost as if she had been sleeping all those years.
“I’m glad I stopped. Glad to have met you, Ryan.”
His smile remained but there was some new spark in his eyes. He angled his head, as if preparing to kiss her, but hesitated.
“Are you going to kiss me?” she asked.
“I shouldn’t.”
So she kissed him.
She stepped in and gave him a taste of the heat she now felt tingling through her bloodstream. He hesitated, held back, just as he had in the field. She pressed tight to him and raked her fingers through his hair. She felt the moment of surrender when he dove full force into their kiss. Haley gasped as he took control of her, cradling her head as he bent her over his arm. Her tongue darted into his mouth, gliding against his as she purred deep in the back of her throat. His kisses trailed over her neck and to the shell of her ear.
He lifted her to the counter and she wrapped her legs around him. She’d had an IUD for years, part of her careful, cautious lifestyle and a model way to be in control of even her body’s cycles.
She felt the hard evidence of his desire pressed against her needy flesh.
“You sure about this?” he whispered against her neck.
“So sure.”
He lifted her from the counter and swept down the hall to the bathroom, where he let her slide down his body as he retrieved something from the medicine cabinet. A black box of condoms. Ribbed, according to the label.
He let her select a square packet and then threw her over his shoulder and carried her to the bed.
Haley had had chances to be with a man. She’d taken a few, always choosing wisely and carefully. But tonight, she would not be wise or careful. She knew full well the uncertainty that lay beyond that door and she was not going to waste a moment of this precious time together with doubts or worry. She wanted him and, for once, she was taking what she wanted without calculating the risk and reward, without consideration or second-guessing.
As she fell back on the bed, she stretched her arms wide in welcome to the man who had reminded her that life was for the living.
Chapter Fifteen
Ryan lay replete on the sheets of someone else’s bed, knowing they should be moving locations but unable to muster the energy to do more than drag Haley’s lush body against his. The predawn gloom filtered soft light though the closed window curtains and over Haley naked in his arms.
He thought back to the kisses they’d shared and how he had moved inside her silken, yielding body. Haley’s movements offered just the right resistance and friction, making that first time absolutely the most mind-blowing experience of his life. Too perfect. Her cries of pleasure had triggered his own. Simultaneously, they had found their release.
It had happened naturally, a response to their unity. In the past, every time he’d managed such a feat it had been a measure of his control, restraint and consummate timing.
He’d tried to please Haley, but in the center of their time together, he’d forgotten his moves and his timing and his consummate control and just savored the feel of her.
He cared about her. That was both the reason and the trouble. Nothing good would come of this.
He sat up in the darkness, suddenly cold, his heart hammering and his body bathed in sweat. What was happening to him? Was he sick?
“Ryan?” Her voice was sleepy, as if she had dragged her words from a long way away. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.”
She pulled herself up and moved behind him. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and she slipped her hands around his chest, pressing her bare body to his back.
He shuddered at the pleasure of her warmth.
“You’re trembling,” she said, her voice now edged with concern. She lifted her head. “Did you hear something?”
As if that would make him shake.
“No. Go back to sleep.” He hadn’t meant for his voice to sound so cross.
She pulled away.
“Why are you sweating? Bad dream?”
Haley knelt beside him now, her face cast in shadows as she stared at him, not giving up.
“It was a bad idea.”
“What, sleeping together?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re different than most women in my world. You’re not the sort to just...” He waved a hand at the rumpled coverlet. “I know you well enough to understand that you set a high value on relationships.”
“I don’t see how that is a problem.”
His expression turned melancholy. “When I finish this, if I finish this, you won’t see me again.”
She frowned. “Is that true?”
> He nodded.
“Why?”
“Relationships, they’re a liability. A weapon that can be used against me.”
She lifted her brows and then shook her head.
“Maybe. But that’s not why.”
His mouth was too dry to speak. What was this? He felt like he might be having a heart attack.
Haley aimed a finger at him. “This isn’t about me or my feelings. This isn’t about the danger a relationship will cause me. It is about the danger it poses to you. You don’t like to get close to people for the same reason I don’t like taking chances.” She slipped off the bed and into the discarded T-shirt to stand before him in the near dark. “I’ve been trying to see that nothing happens to me because my mother told me point-blank that she’d never survive my loss. So I did everything I could to limit risks, but I never realized that in seeing to not dying, I stopped living. And I got what I wanted. Absolutely nothing has happened to me.” She lifted a finger and aimed it at him. “You have room in your world and your heart, Ryan. You just aren’t as brave as you pretend to be.”
He shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“No? You’re so interested in making sure that your death matters, you forgot that you’re alive. Living people have relationships.”
Ryan pushed off the bed and stalked away, retrieving his boxers at the foot of the bed and dragging them on.
“That’s stupid.”
“Then tell me the last relationship you had that lasted more than a few hours?”
He stopped dead and turned to her.
How did she know that?
“Meanwhile every time I get close to someone or start to have a really good time, I feel this stab of guilt.” Her voice cracked and she choked out the rest. “I still miss her. I feel so guilty being here.”
“No reason to feel guilty for not dying.”
“Not over surviving. Over living.” She crumpled on the bed. “For laughing and loving, while my sister—”