He ended his rounds at the rear window, dropping to his knees, intent on something outside.
Fear made her less than graceful as she crawled to his side and rose up to see what had captured his attention. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He released the curtain and faced her, their noses not even a foot apart.
They were so close she could hear his soft breath, smell the sweat and dirt and faint spice on his skin. Feel the heat radiating from his body. His gaze landed on her mouth, and she stopped breathing.
Looking away, he shifted to the side, putting space between them, and riffled through his bag. “Nothing,” he repeated. “I was just watching for changes and thinking about our next steps.”
Right. Exactly what she should be doing. Air flooded her lungs as she sat on her heels and nodded. The only way to end this nightmare was to prove her innocence, and now that Jay was gone she had to start over. Her heart turned to lead. More memories to box up and store deep in her mind behind a vaulted door with a lost combination.
“What have you come up with so far?” she asked.
Scott looked up and blinked, as if startled that she’d spoken. For several seconds, he did nothing but watch her, his body a statue clothed in an Arctic Monkeys band shirt and shorts.
“Scott?”
Instead of answering, he shook his head gently, leaned close, and kissed her.
If asked, Valerie would have said she had a better chance of winning the lottery than being kissed by Scott Kramer. Since only fools played the lottery, she had believed both were impossible.
And yet, his soft, warm lips were pressed to hers right now, his beard scratching her chin. Outside the van, the night was silent save for the gentle hush of an occasional truck on the nearby freeway and the bark of a dog, but nothing else registered as his fingertips trailed along her cheekbone and into her hair, spinning threads of delight all the way to her toes.
Her stomach did cartwheels when their tongues touched. The reality was light years ahead of her fantasies. How could she have known that her entire body would feel electrified? That every caress would create a spark that jolted her heart and melted her bones. No one had ever kissed her with such…focus.
She tugged him closer, her skin turning to fire at the near full-body contact as he slid an arm behind her, pulling her even tighter to him. Her fingers tentatively explored the power and strength of his back and shoulders, tracing the contours of his muscles. He wasn’t a big man, but he was solid as granite and honed like a knife. Strong and hard and hot.
And his kisses… Her breath caught as he tugged and nipped and soothed with desperate lips. His free hand left a trail of lightning from her neck, down over her shoulder, finally, thank God, skimming the side of her breast. She moaned and leaned into his touch, achy with desire, ready to drown under the onslaught.
He pulled back so fast she had to grab his shoulder for balance.
“Sorry,” he said, his voice rough, breathing heavy as he shuffled out of reach.
Her own breath came in ragged gasps, her hands and lips aching with loss as he retreated. “No, it’s—”
“That wasn’t part of the plan.” He ran a hand across his mouth and his gaze met hers, the regret in his eyes unmistakable in the dim moonlight that seeped under the shades. It was one of the few times since she’d met him that his expression wasn’t on lockdown. But did he regret the kiss…or stopping? “I don’t have an excuse, but it won’t happen again.” At least his chest rose and fell in time with hers. He wasn’t unaffected.
Small comfort. His rejection still stung like a slap with a ruler, even if getting involved right now was a bad idea.
But was it?
How bad would it be, really? They had little to lose. If the police—or worse, Duncan—caught up with them tomorrow, she’d never have another chance with a guy like Scott. They’d both be in jail. Or dead. Her heart skittered at the thought, and she blinked back the avalanche of tears that threatened over what her life had become.
She’d been alone since long before she went on the run, but the last three weeks had been the worst in years. Until last night—God, not even twelve hours ago—when Scott had finally chosen to trust her and join her side of the fight.
Having him along for the ride made everything easier, and she was so goddamned tired of facing the world, her future, alone.
He cleared his throat and looked beyond her shoulder. “I’ll sleep up front.”
They only had a couple hours until daylight, but Valerie wasn’t in the mood for sleep anymore. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, grabbing onto the front of his T-shirt and curling the soft fabric into her fist. “Please, don’t.”
Chapter Nine
Azusa, CA
Monday, 4:30 a.m.
Scott was lost the minute Valerie’s lips met his. He’d used up every ounce of willpower he had backing away from her the first time. Now, he couldn’t even remember why he’d wanted to.
Her hands curled into his hair, the light scratch of her fingernails at the base of his neck making his knees weak. Sitting back on his heels, he tugged her onto his lap and explored her sweet mouth. Slowly, slowly, torturing both of them, he slid his hand down to cup her left breast, to gently caress the heavy softness in his palm.
He stroked a thumb across her rock-hard nipple and she arched back.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered in a groan, nipping at her lips.
Valerie moaned in response, a plea that went straight to his groin.
Her fingers slid beneath the hem of his shirt, trailing over his abs, up his chest and across his collarbone, her touch lighting him up like an incendiary grenade. She ground her hips against him, and he nearly exploded. Jesus.
Cradling her around the shoulders and hips, he lay her down without breaking the kiss, stretching out above her, aligning their bodies from head to toe.
A small voice at the back of his mind whispered a warning. You can’t just walk away from this one.
Fuck off, he answered back.
Propping himself with one arm, he tugged the bottom of her shirt with his free hand, wishing he could risk opening a curtain to let in more light. He wanted nothing more than to see her in all her bronze glory. Then again, he wasn’t necessarily ready for her to see all of his not-so-glorious parts. Maybe darker was better.
“Wait.” She stopped his progress with her hand over his, something odd in her voice.
He froze. “What’s wrong?” Had she heard something? Christ, he was so caught up in her that he’d lost his sense of situational awareness. He dropped his hand and started to push away.
“No, don’t,” she said, grabbing the waistband of his shorts, her smooth fingers tantalizing against his bare stomach.
Come on, baby, move that hand a little lower.
“But, um, I’d like to leave my shirt on,” she said, without meeting his gaze.
“Why?” The fear and vulnerability on her face drove him up onto his knees, dislodging her hand from his pants as his brain flashed neon red warning signs.
“I…” She absently rubbed a hand across her ribs.
“You know what? You don’t need to tell me.” This whole episode was veering dangerously close to relationship-forming territory. Assuming they survived this nightmare, he needed to be able to move on when it was over. Physical intimacy was one thing, but emotional? That was something else altogether.
He cared enough to spare them both.
A slice of white light flashed under the driver’s side window shade, illuminating the front seat and dashboard, drawing Scott’s attention away from the gorgeous woman laid out before him. Something hard rapped against the glass.
“Anyone in there?” a man asked from outside.
Shit. What the hell had he been thinking letting down his guard? Bad enough that he was ready to break his own rules to sleep with Valerie, but now he’d let his libido put them in danger.
Her eyes widened, and he put a fi
nger to his lips. “Don’t move,” he mouthed.
Shaking her head, she slid out from under him, tugging her shirt down to her hips. He grabbed her arm. “Trust me,” she whispered, gesturing him out of sight as she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.
He let go. She was the mistress of the con, right? Time to let her prove herself.
“Hel-lo.” The man outside rapped on the window again. “Valley Security.”
Scott’s shoulders relaxed a little. Rent-a-cop. Potentially dangerous, but not the police.
Finger-combing her hair, Valerie clambered into the front seat, pulled back the curtain, and used the crank to roll the window about a quarter of the way down. “Hi,” she said, cheerfully. “What’s going on?”
Nerves of steel, that woman.
“Ma’am.” The man shone his flashlight beam around the interior of the van, but Scott stayed out of range. “You can’t park here without a resident permit, and you definitely can’t camp here.”
“Oh, no, I’m not camping. My mom said any space without a number was for visitors.”
“Your mom?”
“Yes, sir, she lives here,” she said. Scott couldn’t see her face, but he could hear the genuine warmth of a smile in her tone. “Esperanza Ramirez?”
Silence. Scott couldn’t see the guard from his vantage point either, but he could imagine him shaking his head.
“Anyway.” Valerie’s hand flashed in the light as she gave a dismissive wave. “My boyfriend kicked me out last night”—she blew out a breath, spinning a whole tale behind that small noise—“and she said I could stay with her, but she’s a cleaner on the night shift at the JPL, and I don’t have a key. So, she told me to wait in the parking lot until she gets home at seven-thirty.”
The man’s shoes made a scuffing sound on the asphalt.
“What time is it now?” she asked, shifting closer to the window, probably giving the guy a little dose of her stellar cleavage.
Those incredible breasts that she wouldn’t let Scott see naked. Let it go. He swallowed hard and held in a sigh.
Clearing his throat, the guard said, “Almost five.”
“Oh, good. Not too much longer.”
“Look, ma’am, there are a few visitor spots out front, but you’ll need to come back when your mom’s home.”
“I understand. I’ll go park at Walmart for now.”
“Good idea. They have cameras and security, so you should be safe there.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Sorry to trouble you.”
He chuckled. “No problem. You’re the most excitement I’ve had all night.”
You bet your ass, dickhead. His body might disagree, but Scott figured he should probably be thanking the guy for interrupting what had all the makings of a mistake the size of Idaho.
Giving the man a little wave, Valerie rolled up the window and got to work opening all of the curtains in silence. Scott could only watch from his position in the back corner in case the guard was still nearby, watching through the glass.
“So much for staying off the road,” Valerie whispered as she slid open the rear curtain. “But at least there should be some early traffic now.”
“JPL?” he asked.
“Jet Propulsion Lab. It’s somewhere in Pasadena.”
“How the hell do you know that?”
She shrugged. “It’s part of NASA. They run the robotic exploration missions. Like the Mars Rover guys. It’s a hacker’s wet dream.”
Speaking of wet dreams… He nodded, sitting on his hands so he wouldn’t be tempted to reach for her. “I think we should change course to San Diego. If we dump the van there, it’ll be over the border within hours.”
“And get another car?”
“I wish we had a better option. It’s too easy to get pulled over for some minor infraction—in which case we’re dead in the water—but long-distance public transportation means cameras, showing IDs.” Since 9/11, going on the run had become much more difficult. Normally, he was fine with that when it applied to actual terrorists. “So, yeah. I guess another car.”
On the opposite side of the van, she shoved back the last curtain and crouched low on her way to the front seat. “What if Duncan takes the money and runs before we get to D.C.?” she asked in a low voice without looking at him.
“He hasn’t bailed yet. I don’t think he wants to give up his home and family and status. Otherwise, why bother to frame you?” Though a smart man would have an exit strategy, just in case.
She glanced back at Scott, her expression skeptical.
“If it happens, we’ll deal with it,” he said. Somehow. “Let’s get the hell out of here first.”
“Agreed.” Sighing, she adjusted the driver’s seat so she could reach the pedals and started the van.
Three hours later in San Diego, Valerie sat in a cozy club chair in the second-floor café of a popular bookstore chain that offered free WiFi. There were enough people milling around and working on their computers that no one looked at her and Scott twice, even though their story was all over the news.
“The cops figured out it was us, but the surveillance footage is grainy at best, black and white.” She modulated her voice to carry just above the light jazz playing overhead as she used her secure browser to check for updates.
“Let’s see.” He pulled his chair closer, cutting the space between them to unbearable.
After the security guard interrupted their make-out session that morning, she and Scott had only spoken as necessary on the drive down from Pasadena. He was playing it as if nothing had happened. She was doing her damnedest to follow suit, but failing miserably.
Then again, if she couldn’t muster the courage to lift her shirt for him, hooking up was probably a bad idea anyway.
“Your hair is clearly long and blond,” he said, studying the low-quality image pulled from the gas station’s security camera. He glanced her way, keeping his eyes trained above her neck. “But the glasses and ponytail are enough though, I think.”
She’d bought another pair of reading glasses and changed into a tight, gray, scoop-neck T-shirt that emphasized her figure in a way that made her want to squirm. But it changed her appearance even more. When she dressed like this, people—men and women alike—focused more on her chest than her face.
The ease with which a person could make themselves unrecognizable never failed to awe her. Even a celebrity might put her hair up and go out without makeup, and only the most ardent fan or paparazzi would recognize her unless they saw her leave her house.
Sure, a crowded place like the bookstore still posed a threat—more people meant more eyeballs on them—but it was easier to blend into the crowd in a busy place than a quiet one. The other half of the battle was acting normal, like they had nothing to hide, something Valerie was a pro at and Scott seemed to have a knack for too.
“I need a way to contact Kurt securely,” he said, “but quicker than the telegram method you used earlier.”
“We can text him directly from the Internet, but if someone’s hacked his phone, they’ll see it.”
He scowled and blew out a long breath. “This is getting fucking ridiculous.”
“What if I could get us a ride?” Why hadn’t the idea come to her earlier?
“Explain.” He lifted a steaming mug of coffee to his lips. Lips that had kissed her like—
Focus.
She stalled for a second, trying to recapture her thoughts. “There’s a guy who lives in Escondido, maybe an hour from here. Or at least, he used to. I met him in person a couple times when he came to Texas, and after I moved in with my papá’s family here in California, he checked on me every few months. I think he might be willing to drive us to D.C. Or maybe hook us up with someone who can.”
“Won’t the FBI be watching people from your past?”
“There’s a good chance they don’t know who this guy actually is even if they’re tracking his online activity somehow. I think it’s worth the risk.”
>
“You trust him?” To a casual observer, Scott was a just a shaggy-haired surfer type wearing a band shirt—apparently he built his wardrobe at concerts—hanging out with a friend. But his gaze on her… The intensity of it made her stomach dance.
“As much as I can trust anyone. I know a lot of his secrets. If he turns us in, he goes down too.”
Scott frowned. “That doesn’t make for the best relationship.”
She shook her head. “That’s all secondary. Alan’s like an uncle to me. The kind who doesn’t take advantage when you sit on his lap.”
Scott’s eyes widened, and his lips parted in his own understated version of shock.
She laughed. “God, you should see your face. Who knew you were such an easy target?”
He gave her a humorless smile and a heavy dose of skepticism before donning his poker face, but she could sense him studying her profile as she returned to her search. Somehow she needed to block out his scrutiny and stay on task.
“So,” she said brightly. “Should I contact him?”
“Do it. Traveling in a private vehicle as a party of three would make us less noticeable. And we wouldn’t need to find a new car.”
Another person would create a welcome buffer between her and Scott too. “Or sleep in it,” she added. Definitely a bonus.
He didn’t respond.
For the next twenty minutes, Scott hovered as she worked through layers of hidden websites, clicking on a picture of a flower that took her to another site where she clicked on the head of the fifth boy in the back row of a vintage photo of a 1917 high school football team. That link launched her into one of the chat rooms where her papá’s former friend still spent a lot of time.
“How did you know how to access it?” Scott asked, leaning close enough that she could feel his heat. “I would expect them to change the process frequently.”
“I was out of the life, but never out of touch. In fact, it’s part of my job to stay on top of what’s going on in the black hat world. We use most of the same tools, I just have a different goal.”
He sat back. “Does this friend of yours know you switched sides?”
Dangerous To Love Page 215
