by Evans, Misty
“Did you search Adam’s office?”
“Haven’t had a chance.”
“I kept him busy after dinner so you’d have time.”
“I know,” she said, feeling her face flush. “I couldn’t get away from your buddy, Melanie. But like you said, we’re just getting started. I’ll try again tomorrow.”
His thumb caressed the inside of her wrist. “He’s a hard guy not to like, your brother.”
She shivered at his touch. A question had been nagging at her brain all night. “My reports are all gleaned from information I’ve gathered from sources inside the Bureau. Interviews and testimonials other agents were in charge of, inside intel other agents claim to have uncovered, everything except some online digging I did myself with the videos I showed you and reading Facebook profiles. What if they’re all false? All that intel…the interviews, the data, everything. What if…” She swallowed hard. “What if my profile of Adam is wrong?”
He leaned across the seats, drew her in close. “It’s not.” He sounded sure. “The intel and testimonials gathered by other Feebies is reliable, Ronni, and you know it. Just because the government screwed up the Wrightsville situation doesn’t mean they’re planting false evidence against Adam. I know it sucks to hear this, but your brother is up to something. He suspects we’re trying to shanghai him, so he’s putting on a show for now. Covering his ass until he’s either sure we’re legit and onboard with his scheme to bring Armageddon to the feds, or he proves we’re the enemy and ousts us.”
His arms felt safe. Strong. “He’s doing a good job of making me doubt myself.”
“I admit, I like the kid. It’s hard not to. I can only imagine how it feels to be in your shoes.”
She laid her head on Thomas’s shoulder. “It’s going to suck to arrest him, if it comes down to that.”
“Not if. When it comes down to that. Your intel is solid and we have a job to do. But when the time comes, I’ll arrest him. Asking his sister to do that is too much. Dupé already told me to take care of that, but I’d planned to all along.”
She hadn’t thought about it. How hard it would be to slap cuffs on Adam and read him his rights. To march him to a police vehicle and stuff him inside. What would she say? Sorry, but you’re a lunatic and I have to do this?
Pretty much. He might not act like a criminal bent on revenge for his father’s death, but in the end, he was planning to harm federal agents. Innocent bystanders would be caught in the confrontation. Hell, many of those at the compound were innocent accomplices, she was sure of it. They, too, would suffer for her brother’s actions.
She squeezed his hand. “I appreciate the offer, but it’s my job to take him in. I’ll handle his arrest when the time comes.”
The night settled around them. Ronni wondered if Thomas could feel her pulse jack-rabbiting under his touch. She tried to keep focused when all she wanted to do was kiss him. Forget the horrors of her past and the ugliness of this undercover operation under the feel of his hands. “Kristine is pregnant. Sounds like Adam is the father.”
Thomas drew his head back to frown down at her. “The gal at dinner?”
She raised her head from his shoulder. She so didn’t want to discuss the case anymore, but this might be their only chance for a few days to talk in privacy. “I overheard her telling Melanie that she’s ten weeks along and she wanted to tell Adam tonight, but Melanie talked her out of it. Mel told her Lance—Kristine’s husband—deserved to know first, and Kristine said she was blessed to be carrying Adam’s child and Lance would have to deal. She referred to the baby as the next savior.”
“I thought Adam was the next savior.”
“He’s the Chosen One, but if something happens to him, he wants a son to carry on, I’m sure. Daniel did.”
“Just like a king.”
“Apparently, Lance and Kristine tried to have a baby for ten years and failed. I’m guessing Paige, their daughter, is adopted.”
“So Kristine is a sacred wife? Melanie told me Adam was saving himself.”
“Neither of them used the term sacred wife, but if Adam is sleeping with women to produce children, it’s the same idea.”
“Your profile didn’t mention Adam taking sacred wives like Daniel.”
“Another reason I wonder if my profile is accurate.”
Silence. The owl she’d heard earlier hooted again, this time his call sounding muffled and forlorn.
Thomas returned to staring out the windshield. “Kristine isn’t underage, and appears to be here of her own free will. Nothing criminal about sleeping with Adam if it was her choice, but I bet ol’ Lance won’t be happy.”
“Melanie seemed upset too. I think she’s more jealous than concerned about Lance’s feelings, though.”
“She’s killing herself to impress Adam and keep him happy, that’s for sure. Why else would she do that unless she’s in love with the guy? In that case, she’s probably as devastated by Kristine’s pregnancy as Lance will be.”
“Makes for a good soap opera, but like you said, there’s nothing illegal about the situation, so we’re back at square one.”
“Tomorrow, when I fix the commercial oven, I’ll see what I can glean from her.”
“I didn’t realize you were so skilled. Mechanically, I mean.”
He chuckled, the sound dangerous and seductive. “You’ve only scratched the surface of my many skills, Agent Punto.”
Last names again, but in a sexy, teasing manner. “Thomas…”
She turned her head as he turned his. His lips were irresistible and she shifted her face up, caught them with hers.
She kissed him gently even though she wanted to consume him. Even though she needed to let him consume her.
Only then could she forget the pain for a few minutes. Forget the sacrifices she’d made. The people she loved who’d been torn away from her.
But his return kiss was hard, searching. He knew what she wanted. Knew what she craved. She didn’t want to be handled with kid gloves. She wanted the heat burning between them to ignite and fire up a passion that blocked everything else out.
He sucked, kissed, and licked her lips, her neck, behind her ear. She arched toward him, wishing they were in the backseat, less constrained, and managed to get a leg over the center console. He half lifted her, settling her on his lap, and resuming his exploration of her skin with his lips and tongue. Her fingers ran over his shoulders, parting his shirt as she skated her nails down his firm chest.
He lowered his mouth to her cleavage, now at the perfect height. One hand worked at her shirt, pushing the flimsy material aside and revealing her bra. A finger dipped inside, brushing against her taut nipple and making her moan. In the next instance, both of her breasts were at his mercy. His lips worked on one while his hand massaged and tweaked the other.
Her hips surged against his lap as her head tipped back, lifting her chest and giving his lips better access.
So good. So right.
He went to work on her other breast with his lips as his hand went between her legs. Even through her jeans, he found her sex and rubbed the exact spot that made her gasp. Grinding into his hand, she let herself get caught up in the rhythm he chose, moaning into the dark.
So good, but not enough. She needed more. Much, much more.
She undid the zipper of her jeans, guided his fingers inside her panties.
Oh, God. His fingers were hot, slipping inside her. Skin to skin.
He swirled his tongue over her breast, as one of his fingers slid between her folds. A second finger followed…he drove both inside her, and she tightened around them.
He eased them out, lingered, rubbed her sex. Teasing her? Of course, he was. Damn man. She shouldn’t be surprised.
“Thomas,” she begged on a ragged breath.
He chuckled, caught her nipple with his warm mouth and sucked hard. Bit gently.
Oh, yes. This was what she needed.
And two could play the teasing game. She slither
ed a hand between their bodies, enjoying the feel of his solid chest, the ridges of his abs. Sinking lower, lower…
Jackpot.
Thomas tensed as she cupped him through his jeans. “Easy there, partner, or I’ll be forced to take you right here.”
Her pulse skipped at the threat. Easy wasn’t her way. Life had never been easy, so why expect it now? “I don’t want to take it easy,” she said, unbuttoning his fly. “And we may not get another chance.”
He sighed and murmured against her skin, “Always the hard way.”
Her fingers slipped past his zipper. Ah, yes, everything was hard. Rock hard and straining for her touch. She wished she could see him better, naked and at her mercy, but for now, the shadows inside the car were her friend. He couldn’t read the need on her face. Wouldn’t force her to slow down and stop using him to blot out the voices in her head.
The soft cotton of his briefs got in her way. Skin to skin. That’s what she needed.
Easing back, she gave her fingers room to work their magic, gliding under the waistband and…
A hiss from Thomas told her she’d struck home. He was warm and so, so hard. He pushed forward and she wrapped her fingers around him, tightening, releasing. Stroking, base to tip. Base to tip.
He caught hold of her wrist, dragging her hand away. She started to protest, but he silenced her with a kiss. “Not here. Not like this,” he murmured against her lips.
The Boy Scout was back. “Yes, here. Exactly like this. I need you.”
His eyes were half-lidded, his chest rising and falling, but his hand tightened around her wrist. “And even though I know you’re using me, and we’re in the middle of a case, I’ll give you what you want.” His voice was a soft growl. “But not here where we’re so exposed. Not tonight when we’ve only just started to make headway on this case. “
He was always in control. Always.
And he was right. What was she thinking? Her first field assignment in months and she was about to risk it all for a quickie in the front seat of a rental car. With her partner of all people.
Brilliant.
Still she wondered what it would take to make him lose that tight control he kept over his emotions. The real emotions lurking under the carefree attitude and flippant charm.
Sitting back, she extracted her hand from his hold, began fixing her clothes. “Where and when, Mann. Name the place and the time, and don’t think I won’t hold you to it.”
“Give me two days to finish my recon of this place. If I don’t find the evidence we need, we’re out of here. You can have me any way you want me then.”
Two days? She needed pleasure now. Needed him now. “Meet me tomorrow night on the east side of the orchard around midnight. I’ll expect an update on your progress.”
With that, she left him sitting in the car, embarrassed heat stinging her cheeks. Once she was around the backside of the house, she stopped, took a couple of deep breaths to clear her head.
Everything with Thomas was happening too fast, and at the same time, not fast enough. It had been so long since she’d felt such heat, such passion. Murphy, of Murphy’s Law, laughed inside her head. Of course she’d feel that now for Thomas. Her partner. The man who’d let a killer get past him and nearly cost her her life.
Not his fault.
Slumping to the back porch steps, Ronni dropped her face into her hands and scrubbed her eyes. Yeah, old Murphy was having a good laugh at her expense right now. Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong. And for Ronni Punto, it will go wrong in spades.
She’d found nothing to confirm her accusations against Adam, and she’d fallen into heavenly lust for her partner, a man she couldn’t quite bring her damaged psyche to trust. Her potential career with Dupé and his taskforce was over before it had even gotten off the ground.
Two days. She had two days to get Thomas out of her system and prove Adam was planning an attack against the agents who’d been at Wrightsville.
Ronni pushed herself upright and snuck back into the house.
Chapter Twenty-one
The best of intentions…Thomas shook his head as he sat in the dark car, waiting for his erection to deflate. Had he actually just blown Ronni off again?
Stupid is as stupid does, Forrest Gump.
God, he couldn’t help it. She was emotionally off the charts over her brother, and even though he knew she was tough inside and out, he also knew he was fucked. She wasn’t fuck-buddy material, and he wasn’t white picket fence material. If he screwed her brain outs like he wanted to, it would lead to more. Her emotions were riding just under the surface.
She’s too vulnerable.
But holding back, trying to get her to see what she was doing before she crossed a line she’d always regret was screwing him.
The scent of her lingered on his fingers. He could still smell her perfume on his skin. He was fucked all right. Him and his good intentions. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.
And now I’m a walking cliché.
After adjusting himself and righting his clothes, he left the car, made his way back to the men’s quarters. A couple of the men were night owls, but no one noticed him slip past their doors and into his room. For the next few hours, he tossed and turned. A cold shower might have worked, and yet, he didn’t want to wash off the smell of Ronni’s perfume on his skin.
In the morning, Thomas ate with the men and was escorted by Jacob to the house to look at Melly’s oven. She met him at the door, like usual, with a huge smile on her face and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice in hand. “From our own crop,” she said, handing him the glass.
He accepted the juice under Jacob’s intense watch, and was glad when Melanie asked the goon to help her find a box of plastic bottles for some lotion the women were preparing that day.
His head was inside the oven when Ronni walked into the kitchen. “One of the heating elements is out,” she said, and he jumped so hard at the sound of her voice, he nearly knocked himself out.
Sliding out of the compromising position, he sat back on his heels. Ronni was dressed in black jeans and a white blouse, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her hair was smoothed back into a tight bun, her makeup barely there but applied with a precise hand. Her eyes met his for a minute. All business.
So screwed.
“Heating element, huh?” Smooth, Mann. Real smooth. He could still feel her fingers teasing him. Taste her skin. Good thing he was sort of sitting down.
Melanie burst back in at that moment, greeting Ronni. “Good morning!”
Thomas adjusted his knees and leaned back into the oven as if confirming Ronni’s diagnosis to keep either woman from seeing his woodie.
“Did you say heating element?” Melanie bustled around Thomas to pour Ronni a cup of coffee. “Can you pick up one of those at the hardware store in town?”
He didn’t know a damn thing about ovens. “Uh, sure.”
Ronni accepted the cup from Melanie and thanked her. Then she snagged an orange from the bowl on the table and headed for the back door. “Tubular heating elements on old ovens like that are hard to find, but I ordered one off eBay this morning. It’ll be here in two days.”
She looked over her shoulder and met Thomas’s eyes. Two days. Message sent.
Thomas watched her hips swing with confidence as she walked out the back door and left him and Melly staring after her.
His woodie jumped. Message received.
He had two days. And then, if she didn’t come to her senses, he was going to fuck her blind.
Melly turned to him, a hesitant smile on her lips. “Well, I guess I’ll do the baking in the women’s quarters for two days. Can you fix a vacuum?”
“Sure,” he said, smiling to himself and tamping down his lust. Any excuse to stay in the main house was a good one. He had to stay close to Ronni. “Let’s see it.”
The vacuum was as old as the house and the oven. It needed to be trashed.
Instead, Thomas dinked around, taking
it apart, cleaning all the components and filters. He located a can of silicone lubricant in the toolshed and oiled all the metal parts, cleaned and fiddled with the motor and belts. As he worked in the back yard—the old machine was far too dusty to tear apart inside—Melly hovered.
Fine with him. Melanie was a goldmine of information, so he made conversation with her to see if she’d proffer anything useful, while he kept an eye out for Ronni. It sounded like Melanie had big plans for the farm and its business, so if Adam did believe Armageddon was around the corner, Melly either didn’t know it or didn’t believe him.
Several times, one of the other women would stop by to say something to Melanie. The way they kept their heads down and eyes averted reminded him of the local Mennonites, but they all seemed happy and content. Many reported in on progress in the work rooms on various products and samples.
Ronni and Adam went walking. Thomas kept an eye on them for as long as he could, but they soon disappeared and didn’t return until lunchtime.
Since he was covered in dirt and grime, Melanie offered to bring him a sandwich outside. He accepted. A few minutes later, she drove off, headed into town for her salon.
Thomas didn’t miss the fact that the men took turns keeping an eye on him. Jacob, the doctor, Wreck-It Ralph and a couple of others. Lance hurried to and from the orchards and beehives, sometimes with his beekeeping gear on and other times without it.
Once he finished putting the vacuum back together, Thomas took it inside and found Kristine and Lance whispering in the kitchen. Their heads whipped around when the back door banged closed and Thomas held up the vacuum. “I need to plug this in and see if it works.”
Lance’s face was a storm cloud. Kristine was pale. Thomas didn’t have to wonder what he’d just interrupted.
Kristine nodded and motioned for him to follow her to the main living room. A formal room with dark drapes, a huge fireplace, and a big antique rug covering a good percentage of the oak floors. Thomas plugged the vacuum in and pushed the on button. The vacuum fired up and he started to run it across the rug when Kristine took it out of his hands and swept the rug herself.
