by Cindy Dees
He rolled his eyes at that. They were amazing together and they both knew it. “What else is there to know?”
She huffed. “I don’t know any of the normal stuff about you. Your favorite food. What kind of movies you like. If you want to have kids. Your dreams and ambitions.”
“Steak. Thrillers. Yes—several. To make the world a better place. And most of all, to find a woman I can share everything about myself with and love forever.”
She threw up her hands. “And that’s another thing. You’re too darned perfect.”
“I was hoping not to have to confess how stubborn I can be. Or how, once I make up my mind about something, I refuse to be swayed.”
“Sorry. I already had those two figured out,” she responded dryly.
“Flaws, huh? Ooh. Here’s a good one. I don’t pick up my dirty clothes. Comes from a lifetime of having a household staff to pick up after me. But as long as I can afford a butler, I figure that flaw won’t make you too crazy.”
“You don’t have any idea how different our worlds are,” she exploded in exasperation.
“Show me.”
She scowled at him for a minute. In an abrupt decision, she snatched up the car keys off the counter. “Get in the car.”
They drove down the mountain and headed into the heart of the Mescalero Indian Reservation. Truth be told, it was the first reservation he’d ever been on. They passed cattle ranches and neat homes that looked like they could be anywhere else in the southwestern United States. But then things began to deteriorate. The homes became smaller, older, dingier.
“This is what the entire rez looked like before the casino,” she said grimly. She turned onto a street that took him aback. Something he’d expect to see in a destitute third-world country. “When I was a kid, this was all there was. My mom drank herself to death when I was about five. My dad shoveled manure on a ranch for a living and my grandfather made a few dollars here and there as a medicine man. If we were lucky, he got paid in food. I went to work in the fields when I was seven.”
His heart ached for the child she must have been. He could picture her, long-limbed and scrawny with a braid flying behind her. He reached across the car to rest a hand on her shoulder. “Your father and grandfather did something very right for you and your brother to turn out like you did.”
Tears glistened in her eyes, but she turned her head away from him, likely to hide them. “They loved Rex and me fiercely. They taught us to be proud of our heritage and to love our country in spite of how it treated our people.”
He nodded in understanding.
She spoke reflectively. “My grandfather was a medic in World War II. He was decorated four times for valor. And then he came home and nearly starved to death because he refused to take handouts from the government.”
Given that she spoke of him in the past tense, he assumed her grandfather had passed away. He said soberly, “I would’ve liked to meet him.”
“He would’ve told you what you’ve done to your body is unnatural. That you shouldn’t play God.”
Jeff smiled. “I’ve heard that one before. From my own grandfather.”
Jennifer fell silent, contemplating the people whose lives were passing by outside. “I do what I can to help these kids. But my kind don’t take charity easily.”
“Thank you for showing me this,” he said. “That you overcame such a difficult childhood makes the person you are now even more impressive.”
“I’m who I am because of this, not in spite of this.”
“While I, on the other hand,” he replied lightly, “am who I am in spite of my upbringing and not because of it.”
She stared at him. “You had everything you ever wanted!”
“Exactly. Which, in my experience, doesn’t necessarily engender a deep sense of social responsibility, work ethic or meaningful life goals.”
“What are your life goals?” she asked.
“I already told you two of them—to find a good woman to share my life with and to make the world a better place. Beyond that, I want to see this medical research through. Our country needs it, but the government can’t do it. So I’m doing it for them.”
“Do they know you’re doing it?”
“Not yet. But we’re getting close to having enough results to share.”
“How many of you are there?”
He shook his head. “The less you know, the better.”
“I can’t believe you’d make mutants out of your own employees.”
“We don’t know if the modifications will become permanent or not. Gemma believes they will in time. That’s one of the big questions we have yet to answer.”
“My grandfather would have been right. It’s unnatural.”
“It’s modern science. I admit it takes a little getting used to the idea. But the possibilities with this research are staggering.”
Jennifer shook her head. “I’ve seen the downside of it. I don’t think it’s worth the pain.”
“I’m not in pain as long as I stay on my meds.”
“You’re playing God,” she muttered direly. “No good can come of it.”
“Good already has come of it. I’ve captured bad guys, stopped a terrorist attack or two, and saved lives. All in all, I’d say the experiment has been a smashing success.”
She turned the car onto a main road and accelerated toward the looming front range of the Sierra Blanca. “You and I will have to agree to disagree on that. I’ll never forget the sound of your screams.”
Guilt stabbed him. He’d never meant to put her through such worry. But by the same token, it was part of who he was. If they had any kind of a chance together, she would have to accept that part of him, too. He only hoped he got a chance to demonstrate the up side of his special gifts to her. It was part of why he was so determined to go on her search-and-destroy mission with her.
“So, nobody in your tribe lives in tepees and hunts buffalo anymore?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Each summer there’s a festival here where some of that goes on. It’s centered around the ceremonial coming-of-age rites for our youngsters. Sadly, it’s as much for the tourists these days as for our own people. Times change.”
They rode back to the cabin in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
They made sandwiches for themselves and put their dishes in the sink before he couldn’t take the silence any longer and said, “Okay, so we’ve established that you and I come from different worlds. I can accept yours if you can accept mine.”
“What is there to accept about yours?” she asked, sounding surprised.
“You said a few days ago that you’re allergic to money. Is that true?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been around someone as rich as you.”
“I’ll give it all away if you want me to. I’ll have to keep some of it to fund Gemma’s research, but I don’t need the rest of it.”
She snorted. “It’s easy for you to say that because I’m not very likely to call your bluff.”
He turned sharply to face her. “Go ahead,” he said levelly. “Call me on it.”
She stared at him hard, her expression gradually shifting to realization that he was serious and thence to disbelief. “But why? You barely know me. Why would you make an offer like that?”
Without breaking their stare he answered, “Because a good woman is worth more than all the money in the world.”
“I’m planning to break into a government facility and sabotage it. That’s the act of a terrorist, not a good woman.”
“You protected me even after you saw me kill a man. You stayed with me while I screamed my head off. You moved Heaven and Earth to get me help. You’re willing to sacrifice your career—your life—to do the right thing. Trust me. You’re one of the good guys.”
A knife twisted in his chest when she merely frowned in response. It wasn’t that he expected her to open herself up to him completely. At least not yet. She was too cautious a perso
n for that. Not the type to wear her heart on her sleeve. But he’d hoped to see at least a bit of a thaw from her. Instead, she crossed her arms, moved across the room to sit on the sofa and commenced staring at the faded area rug.
He said lightly, “You look like I’m a terrible complication in your otherwise well-ordered life.”
She made a sound somewhere between exasperation and humor. “You are.”
He could live with that. For now. After all, it was a base to build on.
* * *
Jennifer didn’t know whether to cry or scream, be thrilled or scared out of her mind, by Jeff’s faith in her. In them. It was all happening so fast. She was a mature, reasonable person. She didn’t leap into or out of relationships casually. She was thoughtful and logical about such things. But Jeff completely defied logic.
He was silent for a while, and she finally glanced up to see him sitting at the kitchen table, writing quickly on a pad of paper.
“What are you doing?” she asked warily. She half feared he was drafting up a prenuptial agreement for the two of them.
“Making a list of supplies we’re going to need to make your volcano appear to blow.”
“Why the big frown, then?”
“I’m worried about the amount of explosives we’re going to have to transport to the island. They’re heavy, and we’ll need a lot to shake the island.”
“No problem. I’ve got all the access codes to H.O.T. Watch’s armory. We’ll just take whatever we need from there.”
He smiled in relief. “Of course. Brilliant, Watson.”
“How come you get to be Sherlock? It’s my infiltration mission. You’re the helper guy, not me.”
“No problem. I’m Watson, then. Watson needs a kiss, Sherlock.”
“Are you always this needy?” she asked as she strolled over to him. Lord, a girl could get used to the way his eyes lit up when he looked at her. Like the sun rose and set around her. But how was she supposed to know if he was for real or not? Would he stay like this for the next fifty years, or was this just the first flush of infatuation? Would it wear off in a few weeks or months?
“I’ll always need you, babe,” he murmured against her belly.
She wrapped her arms around his head and hugged him briefly. It was all she could muster past the panic he inspired in her. She felt like a trapped rabbit in the arms of a wolf. But then he kissed his way up her torso, feathering her face with kisses. He was such a lovely wolf, and he made the rabbit feel so very cherished.
Completely freaked out, she mumbled, “Show me your list.”
He turned her loose with a sigh.
She touched his face apologetically with her fingertips. “This is moving a little fast. Be patient with me, okay?”
“Anything for you.”
She was officially an idiot. Any woman in her right mind would be throwing herself at this man and not looking back. A new fear crept into her mind…that she would blow this thing between them. That she would be too afraid of getting hurt, too afraid of what could go wrong to let herself reach for happiness. Almost sick with terror, she doggedly turned her attention to his list, forcing her mind onto operational necessities. This was safe ground.
But then Jeff reached a hand across the table absently and twined his fingers with hers, and the ground beneath her feet heaved more wildly than ever. What on earth was she going to do with him?
Chapter 13
Jeff lurched awake as the disposable cell phone by his head rang on the night stand. Only Rex and Leland had its number and neither one of them could be calling at this hour with good news. “What’s up?” he asked tersely.
Rex mumbled in his ear, “BIA informant spotted your car today. Feds are here. Gonna sweep the rez.” It sounded like Jenn’s brother was talking into a paper towel tube. Probably had his hand over his phone to hide it from said Feds. The guy was probably taking a terrible risk to warn them like this.
“We’ll be out of here in five minutes.”
“Head south. The Feds are starting at the north end of the rez. And stay off the main roads. Jenn will know the back ones.”
“Got it. And thanks for everything. I owe you one.”
The line went dead.
“Jenn—” Jeff began. But she was already awake, her dark eyes gleaming faintly in the dark.
“Who’s coming our way?” she asked as she swung out of bed quickly and reached for her clothes.
“Feds. Rex said they’ll come from the north and we should stay off the main roads.”
She nodded. “You drive. I’ll navigate.”
Good thing Jennifer had insisted on keeping everything packed and ready to go, all the dishes washed and put away, and even the towels folded into the linen closet before bed. All they had to do now was toss the fresh food and their overnight bags in the car and wipe down the place for prints, and they were good to go.
He guided the car along the mountain carefully. It was slow going with the headlights off, but even in the trees, they dared not chance lights. They hit the lower elevations, and Jennifer guided him along dirt roads that were sometimes little more than twin tracks through the scrub country.
But finally she announced, “Okay. We’re off the reservation. In about a half mile we’ll come to a paved road. Turn left and that will take you to Hwy 82. We can take it west into Alamogordo, and then catch Hwy 54 South to El Paso. From there, I’m not sure what we’ll do.”
He smiled over at her. “If you’ll pass me that last disposable phone, I’ll take of what comes next.”
Next arrived at the El Paso International Airport not long after they did—an unmarked corporate jet belonging to Winston Enterprises.
“The FBI will spot this flight and track it,” Jennifer warned.
“That’s why my pilots are filing a half-dozen flight plans. By the time the FAA tracks down which one we actually flew, we’ll be long gone and the trail will be cold,” he replied.
“And which one are we actually flying?” she replied.
“The one that takes us to Kingston, Jamaica. We need a boat for our mission, and that’s a major port not too far from H.O.T. Watch. We’ll be able to rent something there.”
She smiled reluctantly. “I admit it. You’re definitely handy to have around.”
“Just handy?”
“Okay, a godsend.”
“That’s more like it,” he declared.
* * *
It took most of the day to get to Jamaica. Jennifer was intrigued when Jeff produced a fake passport at Jamaican customs. But then, so did she.
As they rode in the back of a cab toward the harbor, he put his arm around her shoulders. “Having fun yet, Mrs. Smith?”
“This is better than most of the business trips I take.”
“Your honeymoon is supposed to be better than work, silly.” Clearly, he was talking for the benefit of the cabbie. Newlyweds in this part of the world were a dime a dozen. But still, the idea of being married to Jeff was a shockingly seductive fantasy.
She had the driver let them out several blocks from the ocean. Funny how quickly all the paranoia of her days as a field agent returned to her. It had been years since she’d been an operator, but the trade craft came back as naturally as breathing.
The big question in her mind at the moment, though, was where did Jeff learn such things? He crossed streets and switched back on their route like a pro as they wound through alleys in a circuitous route toward the pier.
They’d ducked into a cheap souvenir store and were just about to step outside again when something triggered a mental alarm for Jennifer. She put a hand on Jeff’s arm to stop him. “Just a sec,” she murmured.
“What do you see?” He stepped behind a rack of T-shirts and rifled through them while watching the street out of the corner of his eye.
“I don’t know. I thought I saw a man come around the corner and then back out of sight.”
“Want me to go check?” he muttered.
“Are you bu
lletproof?”
“Not the last time I checked, although I can probably take a small-caliber shot with less damage than most folks.”
She rolled her eyes. “My question was rhetorical. We wait these guys out.”
He shrugged and moved away from the store’s front window. They browsed in the store long enough that the shopkeeper was starting to get suspicious, but nobody got sent into the place to check on them. Jennifer’s tension gradually eased. It was probably nothing, just some guy remembering something and changing direction abruptly.
Still, she asked the clerk as the guy rang up the T-shirts she’d randomly selected, “Is there a back way out of here?”
The man frowned but pointed toward a storeroom. She paid quickly and headed for the back of the store. Jeff followed without comment. They slipped out into the alley, which was wreathed in shadows as the sun set on the city.
They’d taken maybe ten steps forward when four men stepped out of doorways and nooks around them. Chagrin washed over her. She hated being outmaneuvered like this. Worse, she’d apparently become predictable.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” she said evenly. “Can we help you?”
The men shrugged and moved in closer to ring her and Jeff more tightly. But then one of them muttered something to his companions—in Amharic. These guys were from Ethiopia? How in the heck had they found her and Jeff? For his part, Jeff went very still. He’d recognized his captors’ native tongue, too.
Jeff relaxed beside her and moved away slightly, no doubt to give them both room to fight. He’d been ambushed in an alley before, had he?
“This is going to end badly for you fellows,” she warned calmly. “I’m going to give you a chance to turn around and walk away before we do this.”
The four men traded looks—could they have been any more obvious that they were getting ready to jump her and Jeff?—and surged forward. When the first guy reached her, she lashed out with a vicious kick to the side of the guy’s knee. He staggered and fell.
She didn’t even bother to check on Jeff. He’d probably just picked up his attackers and knocked their heads together until they saw stars. The second man was more wary than the first and came in slowly, with his fists and defenses up. She blocked a flurry of punches and nearly went down as he leaped forward and hooked her ankle with his foot. But then a fist shot over her right shoulder from behind, crushing the man’s nose in a single blow.
