by Cherry Adair
He'd heard the guy. "Right, Jake? You know he's out there?"
A board creaked beneath Jake's boots.
Marnie bit her lower lip and froze.
Outside, the man shifted but didn't take a step.
Inside the cabin the enormous bulk of Jake and dog slipped into the bathroom. The door glided closed behind them.
The bad guy took the two steps necessary to stare in the window. Marnie could see his back in one monitor, his head and chest in another. Like the others, he was mummy-wrapped, his features well concealed by his black garb.
Jake and Duchess were now trapped in the bathroom.
"Jeez, Jake—" Marnie shook her head "—what the heck are you doing?"
It almost seemed anticlimactic when he finally entered the small elevator. Clever Jake—there were entrances and exits galore.
Seconds later the door into the basement slid open. Duchess bounded out ahead of him. Marnie hopped off the bed and braced herself. "Hi, pretty girl," she crooned in relief to the dog, but her eyes were on the man.
The dog's nails clicked ecstatically on the floor as she raced toward her mistress.
Duchess leaped, and her front paws slammed into Marnie's chest. If Marnie hadn't been ready, she would have fallen. The dog slathered her face with kisses, whimpering and wagging her tail before abandoning her to do the same to her hero.
Eyes still locked with hers, Jake stopped the dog's antics with a hand gesture. Duchess turned and gave her mistress a happy grin, then darted off to sniff and explore.
Still maintaining eye contact, Marnie walked over and punched Jake in the solar plexus, not hard enough to hurt, just hard enough for him to blink in surprise.
"You—you jerk! You scared me half to death! There were three, three, of those creepy guys right there in the cabin, just waiting to… to do whatever they planned on doing to you. Then, no sooner had they slunk off into the trees than that other one came—he was right outside. If he'd moved a little faster, he would have seen you. And if he'd seen you, he would have shot you. I saw the gun. And I was stuck down here, with no way to warn you."
"Take a breath," Jake said dryly.
She socked him again, this time leaving her balled fist on his chest. "You have to give me a way to help you. A way to warn you. Damn it, Jake, you could have been killed, or hurt, or something."
"So you punched me?"
Marnie flattened her palm on his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heart through his jacket. "Yeah, so I punched you. You're lucky that's all I did. I hate feeling helpless. Don't make me go through that again."
"Or what?" Jake asked, stepping forward and crowding her against the foot of the bed.
Marnie gave him a blank look. "Oh. I'm supposed to have an answer to the 'or what' question, right?"
Jake's mouth quirked. "It makes it more effective, yes."
The last bit of adrenaline leaked out of her, Marnie let her head flop on his chest. He didn't exactly stiffen, but she felt him go dead still. What was it with this guy? How could he be so impervious?
"Just out of curiosity," Jake said over her head, "why the hell would you give a damn, one way or the other, if they got me?"
She squeezed her eyes shut, wrapped her arms about his waist inside his damp jacket, and pressed her cheek against his chest. Oh, Jake. "I told you, I hate the sight of blood."
"You really do chatter when you're scared, don't you?"
She could have sworn she felt his mouth against her hair. She swallowed the thickness in her throat. "Even the Man of Steel was vulnerable if the bad guys had kryptonite."
"There's a silent alarm in the elevator," he said calmly. "I knew they were there."
He laid his cheek against her temple and locked his left arm around her waist. Her calves were flush against the bed. If she leaned back just a little…
"If they'd got me, you would never have been able to exit the lair. Did you think of that?"
"No, frankly I didn't. I was worried about you. And I got whiplash while I was at it," she added, nose buried against the heavy beat at the base of his throat. He smelled of the outdoors, of pine and snow, and man. So vital, yet not indestructible. Oh, God, what if…
"Is this how it works?" he asked roughly, his arms tightening around her. "The tear-filled eyes?" He kissed the outside corner of her eye.
"The sincerity in your voice?"
His large, callused hand stroked her throat. A shiver racked her frame. Ripples of desire started in her belly, then fanned out in concentric circles to engulf her body.
"Is this where I start to believe you could possibly give a damn?" he whispered, his mouth a breath away from hers.
"Is this where we take our clothes off and you show me how badly you want to make love to me?" He nibbled an agonizingly slow path to her lips. Marnie turned her head slightly, catching his mouth with hers.
For half a heartbeat he sank into the kiss. Then he jerked his head away sharply and looked down at her with a detached coldness that made blood pound in her ears.
"Is that how this works for you, Marnie?" he repeated, voice and eyes hard.
She had been listening to his tone. Not what he was saying. She'd been anticipating what came next. And the answer with him was, of course, nothing. Lover talk, she'd idiotically thought. She shook her head, more at herself than at Jake, and adroitly sidestepped him.
"Are you speaking to me?" she asked tiredly. "Or the woman who betrayed you and tried to cut your throat?" She held her arms out at her sides. "Take a good look, Jake. She and I aren't the same person. It'll be your loss if you keep comparing apples and oranges."
"It's all fruit to me."
"Oh, Jake." Her gaze skimmed his features. "Are you in or out again?"
His eyes met hers. "Why? Got plans?"
"I thought you might like something hot to drink if you were going out again."
Jake walked over to the monitors and sat down in the chair before the console. Duchess looked back and forth between them as if trying to decide which one to go to. Marnie indicated with a subtle hand gesture to go to Jake. He was the one in need of comfort right now. If he wouldn't take it from her, perhaps he'd take it from Duchess.
The dog ambled over, resting her large head against Jake's thigh as he manipulated the cameras. He absently fondled her ears, as he scanned each screen.
Marnie smiled and went to the kitchen area to make a fresh pot of coffee. "Where will they sleep?"
He glanced over at her, his mouth a hard, grim line. "Who? The bad guys? What are you? A bleeding heart? The elements won't bother them. Those outfits will keep them warm and dry."
"I don't care if they freeze their collective butts off," she informed him, cutting thick slices of roast beef for Duchess. She arranged the slices on a plate and put it on the floor, then cut several more. One she bit into, leaning a hip against the counter.
Duchess gobbled down the treats, then, catching the tension in the room, retreated with a sigh to lie down on the area rug, chin on her paws, eyes alert.
Marnie poured a mug of coffee for Jake, then walked over to give it to him. "I was just thinking that if they came back to the cabin for shelter, you could get them all in one place."
His laugh was rusty. "Yeah, right. Why don't you go topside and call them in for coffee?"
It was screwy, but then her logic usually was. Still, it wasn't a bad idea. The cabin could be practically hermetically sealed from down here.
There was a movement on camera seven. Jake zoomed. Just the wind in the trees. He zoomed out again. She was close. Too close. How the hell could she smell like spring flowers?
He drained half the mug of coffee and enjoyed the painful burn all the way down.
She perched on the workstation beside the control panel, bare legs swinging, head tilted to look at him. They were eye to eye.
"You know who they are, don't you?"
"Their MO was telling, but hearing them cinched it. We learn that 'language' at T-FLAC. It's complex
and damn hard to decode. It's useful in the field when there's a chance we might be overheard. I heard enough to know they're closing in."
She put her hand on his arm. The sensation shot up through bone and muscle like an electrical current.
"I'm so sorry, Jake."
He moved away. The sizzle stayed with him. "It makes no damn difference which side kills me. I'll still be dead."
"Still," she said gently, "it's got to hurt to know people you thought you could trust are trying to hurt you."
"They aren't trying to hurt me. They plan to kill me. And I haven't trusted a damn soul since Lurch, Skully, and Brit died. It makes no damn difference to me who the hell they are."
She hopped off the counter and came around behind him. Jake froze as she wrapped her arms about his neck from behind and rested her chin on his hair.
What the hell was it with this woman? She just loved to touch. He stiffened, ready to break her hold. But, damn, it felt okay to have her touch him like this. Just for a second, of course. He didn't like it, wasn't used to being cuddled. He wasn't the warm, fuzzy type. Never had been.
No.
He couldn't like her. He wouldn't.
Jake squeezed his eyes shut, and felt the strength of her slender arms wrap about him like a cashmere blanket on a cold winter's night. Like spring water to a parched throat. Like balm on an open wound.
Judas Priest.
He could deal with the lust. Lust was controllable.
It was tenderness he couldn't handle.
Sex with her was out of the question. She tangled things. Made logic illogical. Made things he knew to be right seem wrong. Made nonsense out of sense.
A good night's sleep was all he needed, Jake assured himself, not shaking her off just yet. By tomorrow he'd have her across the river. If he had to toss her across, he'd have her safe. In the meantime all he had to do was keep distance between them.
He carefully untangled her arms from about his neck. A chill swept over him like nothing he'd felt before. Jake ignored it and leaned over to adjust a camera angle from the console.
"Just in case they get lucky, I'll show you how to exit in an emergency."
He put her through the procedure and encoded her fingerprints and her retina into the scanners via the computer. It was fortunate he'd trained in deep-sea diving and could hold his breath for long periods. Right now that was the only way he had of not inhaling her fragrance.
He showed her how to exit, told her when to exit, and did everything in his power not to brush against her.
It was peculiar she hadn't freaked out about being stuck down here if he was offed. What kind of woman was she that she cared more for the dog than her own safety?
"Get some rest. I have to go out and take care of business."
"I'll be in a coma in about thirty seconds," Marnie assured him around a jaw-cracking yawn that made her look like a sleepy cat. "What about you?"
"I'll rest while they run around looking for me tomorrow."
"Jake?" She followed him to the tunnel elevator.
He half turned. "What now?"
She came right up to him, showing no fear at his obvious impatience and irritation. She stood on tiptoe and fiddled with the collar of his jacket until it lay the way she wanted it. Her eyes met his. "Thank you for bringing Duchess home safely."
"This isn't home," he informed her in the tone of voice that had terrorists backing away if they were smart.
She gave him a solemn look. "Kiss me good-bye."
"Don't you ever give up?"
She had very pretty eyes. Hypnotic eyes, Jake decided, mesmerized by the heat and the sweet clarity he saw there. He tried to shift out of her reach. He tried to drag his gaze away from the bewitching appeal of her.
Somehow his arms wrapped about her slender waist. Her arms looped around his neck. Her mouth touched his.
Soft.
Smooth.
Sweet.
The embers in his gut, which had been glowing for hours, days, a lifetime, roared into an inferno.
Jake didn't give a damn if it was witchcraft or insanity. With a groan of pure agony, he crushed his mouth onto hers and felt the slick heat of her tongue meet his.
Judas Priest. The woman took prisoners.
One more second, he promised himself, and he'd pull away.
One more lick. One more nibble.
Two minutes later, he tore himself away from her arms. Band-Aid quick.
"Lights. Off. Ninety-five percent." His voice sounded ridiculously hoarse.
He strode into the waiting elevator, turned, and saw her standing where he'd left her in the gloom.
"Be careful out there," she said softly.
The door slid shut.
Jake closed his eyes, then leaned forward to thump his head hard on the metal panel.
She was hunched over the computer when he returned hours later, the dog snoring at her feet.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jake demanded, striding across to her. His hands and face tingled in the warmth of the room. She'd turned up the heat.
"Heat," he said tersely. "Sixty-four degrees."
Dumb ass. He was the one who'd given her the keys to the castle. He shouldn't be surprised she'd burglarized him.
The dog opened her eyes. She grinned a doggy grin, then slumped her chin back on her paws and with a contented sigh closed her eyes again.
"That was hello," Marnie told him unnecessarily, head down as she concentrated on the computer monitor. "I made some vegetable soup. It's on the stove. And corn bread," she muttered without looking up.
"You did a good job covering your trail. All I'm doing is coming up with dead ends. I've got one… last—" her fingers skimmed the keys "—thing to try."
The savory smell of the soup made his mouth water. The sight of her made his heart stop.
She'd turned up the heat and then, obviously too warm, changed from his sweatshirt into the old tank top he used when he went running. Soft from a hundred washings, the fabric hung from her slender body, accentuating her curves and making her skin look like silk. Paired with his blue boxer shorts, it was a formidable outfit.
She embraced the rules of engagement. As long as it works, anything goes.
He watched as she ran her fingers through hair that had dried to soft, springy curls the color of honey. One step and he could touch her. He stayed where he was.
Oblivious to the impact her state of undress had on him, Marnie turned back to the computer. "I coded a package trace program to see if I could get an echo back from the satellite using your encryption algorithm. Let's see if the baddies came in through the back door." Her fingers flew across the keyboard. "Now for the satellite coordinates… Okay, let's see what happens." She pressed a key, then folded her arms and sat back.
Her blue eyes twinkled as she looked at him over her shoulder. "How was work, honey?"
Jake snorted.
Beside her, numbers flashed across the monitor almost faster than the eye could see. Marnie whirled around and leaned forward to avidly scan the screen. She tapped out a few more rapid keystrokes.
Jake strode up behind her.
"Damn." She nibbled her lower lip.
"What is it?"
"Nothing. Not a blasted thing." She pushed a curl out of her eyes and scowled. "I don't know how they did it, but a cracker didn't trace you through the computer, Jake. I've tried every trick in the book and then some. I've found zippity-do-dah. Maybe if I called my dad—"
"No, no calls," Jake said sharply. "It doesn't matter. Besides, I told you, I don't need your help. It's one-thirty in the morning, and you've been up since six. Why aren't you sleeping?"
"It's not like I have to get up early," she said dryly, with a final glare at the screen. "Thanks to the coffee and cookies I ate, I got a second wind after you left. Besides, I needed to wait for you."
Jake stripped off his jacket and tossed it on the coffee table. He strode toward the stove to poke at the soup with the spoon sh
e'd left beside it. "Why?"
"To make sure you're in one piece."
"I'm in one piece."
The soup was thick with vegetables and savory with spices. He found a mug and used it to ladle out a serving. Wiping the drips off the side with a finger, he sampled the taste. It was great. "Go to bed."
She busied herself turning off the computer, then swiveled on his chair to face him. Her bare legs looked pale and vulnerable wrapped around the base of the chair. "You need rest even more than I do."
Jake closed his eyes on a long-forgotten prayer. "You're not my mother. Sleep, don't sleep, I don't give a damn. Just give me some space."
"You're mad because I kissed you and you liked it."
Jake found the warm, butter-saturated squares of corn bread. He drank soup from the mug. "Kisses are a dime a dozen. Yours are good but nothing special. I told you. I'm immune."
She untwined herself from the chair. Eyes narrow, she came toward him like a sniper stalking her kill.
"You may be the spy king of the universe, Jake Dolan, but you are one big fat liar. You want me. You want me bad. You're just being disbuggerable about it."
"There's no such word as disbuggerable." Reluctantly Jake put the mug and slice of corn bread down. Just in case he had to defend himself.
"Don't change the subject."
"It was either kiss you or kill you," Jake told her, his hip striking the counter behind him. "I hope I didn't make the wrong choice."
She giggled.
Jake closed his eyes. Oh, man. This isn't goddamned fair.
"Don't you have a lick of sense, woman? I scare most people."
She tried to straighten her face and ended up biting her smile in half by sinking her teeth into her lower lip. "I'm sure you do."
"Is this what you did to those fiancés of yours, Marnie? Pestered them until they gave in?"
She stopped a few feet away and said quietly, "If you want to know if I've had any previous lovers, all you have to do is ask."
Jake picked up his soup mug and took a slug. It was good soup. She could cook. BFD. Who the hell cared? "I don't give a damn if you were the featured date du jour of the sultan of Brunei. Get it through your head: You're here under duress, my duress, and the second I can get you across the river, the better I'll like it."
