He glanced back at the next Superspy, JT Turner. Now resting after he'd closed her wound with butterfly bandages, he had a chance to study her. He'd been wrong thinking she'd be just as gorgeous in person. Gorgeous didn't nearly describe her.
Simply stunning. Captivating. Have-you-eating-out-of-the-palm-of-her-hands-for-a-smile beautiful. Even as she slept, he could see the little buds of her nipples rising and lowering as she breathed. Nice ass, although she was fast becoming a pain in his. Brunette? Why did she have to be a brunette? And why did he have such a weakness for them?
Dark chocolate hair, his favorite, and probably smooth as silk. He wanted to touch it, to weave his fingers through the thick mane and bury his face against her neck. Her skin looked so creamy it made his mouth water. And those green eyes stirred feelings in him he thought were dead. His dick twitched, letting him know it still held an interest in the rookie agent, even if his mind screamed no. Not just no, but hell no.
How in the hell did she do that, all in the middle of a shootout?
Not for the first time, he thought about whether he should have walked out instead of taking the assignment. For the first time in his career as a counter-terrorist agent, he felt a little over his head on this one. He didn't want to notice her this much. He shouldn't notice her this much. She was a double-agent, for Christ's sake. Screwing double-agents in turn screwed you. He knew that from personal experience.
Throwing another look her way, he took a keen interest in the way she slept. Just like everything else he'd discovered about her thus far, she did it with 100% conviction.
She should have passed out from the sight of the blood. She should have collapsed from the mere thought of being shot. She should have crumpled to the floor in a shaking, sobbing mess as he expected her to do.
But she didn't do any of that.
Instead, she joined right in the fun, in a dress coat and nothing else no less. Of course, after she removed the pistol from the back of his skull. He rubbed his head. Damn barrel left a lump. No, barrels don't leave marks, women left marks. Dan swore and growled deeply as he absently rubbed the scar on his chest.
Steady shooter, even with a wounded shoulder. Nerves of steel, that one. Dan felt the corner of his mouth pull up into a grin.
Way over his head.
He didn't like being a delivery service. He didn't like being around women who looked like JT Turner, didn't trust either situation. Usually they were both dangerous, unpredictable, tempting him to open the package. Just the vision of her, the thought of opening this package, spreading her legs and tasting her, kicked his erection up a notch. This pounding ache in his groin caused his brain to fog. He couldn't think of anything but wanting to hold her, to kiss her with such an unbridled craving until he'd devoured her lips. He'd then fuck her out of his system. Not being with a woman in a couple of years had definitely taken its toll on him.
Now watching her as she rested all safe and snug on the bed, the treacherous bitch, made his stomach knot. This woman was not only responsible for the deaths of two of his fellow agents and the disappearance of a third, she'd killed the scientist and his assistant for no other reason than to steal LEON . And here he sat watching her, wanting her, having mental sex with her.
What in the hell was the matter with him? Didn't the scar across his chest remind him what women like JT Turner were capable of?
He'd barely made it to the parking lot of the Edgewater Inn when the engine started to cut out. Brooks didn't look like he even pumped his own gas, let alone could troubleshoot a problem in the engine. Stevens would just bitch about it instead of fix it. Dan had no choice but to work on it. With Brooks behind the wheel and Dan in front of the motor home, he'd just cleaned and replaced the battery cable when she appeared out of nowhere, streaking toward him in nothing but a woman's dress coat. He barely had time to recover from the sight and jump back behind the motor home before the gunfire erupted.
She ran right for the motor home. Why? Had she known they were there for her? Had she known Dan was only moments away from kicking down her door and dragging her by the hair back to HQ? Was that why she charged the motor home?
From the look in those wide-set green eyes as she raced toward the motor home, she was terrified, running for her life.
It didn't feel right. He wanted to hate her, to blame her for the deaths of his friends, his unit. But something stopped him. A higher power? Maybe. His conscience? More than likely. And that really pissed him off. Since when did he ever question his sense of right and wrong? Dan's instincts were always dead on. He never hesitated to trust his gut. What did his gut tell him now?
It told him JT Turner was up to her pretty little neck in shit. He couldn't get a bead on her. The last team a double-agent would turn to for help would be the team sent in to retrieve her. She wasn't stupid. She had to have known they were there for her. Yet when she realized who they were, she flipped out and shoved the barrel of a gun into his skull. The woman was full of contradictions.
He stepped out of the motor home, leaving the door open in case his guest decided to make a really bad decision and leave unannounced. With the door open, and him watching it like a hawk, he'd be on her in a nanosecond. That thought had him semi-hard again.
"Jesus, Weber. Who the hell cares how she looks? She's a goddamn traitor," he muttered, then glanced down at the bulge in his pants. "Got it?"
He rolled his eyes. Great. Now he was talking to himself. No, not just talking to himself, but to his cock. Swell. She'd already succeeded in driving him insane. He wished Gessler were here to knock some sense back into his head.
Damn how he missed his old team. They would have taken out the tangos before they had a chance to chase them down a side street of Seattle, endangering God only knew how many lives. Saunders and Johnson would have taken the back. Aims would have taken a side, Cole the other. And Gessler would have been right up front with Dan. He smiled at the not so distant memory. No doubt Cole would have broken into some story about his precious niece, Jessica, somewhere along the way.
He glanced at his new team. Stevens had finally stopped puking and was now resting against some boxes. Brooks was making some notes on their mission thus far to report back to intel. Dan sighed and pushed away from the motor home. NASSD didn't give him a new team. They'd given him nothing more than agents they were willing to spare, to sacrifice. Shaking his head, he allowed a few of his favorite cuss words to fall from his lips. Not much had changed since his last mission with NASSD, it seemed.
As far as he was concerned, they'd succeeded. They had JT Turner in custody. Dan had LEON . So why, then, did everything feel so off kilter? He couldn't place his feeling of apprehension, which really pissed him off. Another reason to get Turner back to HQ and as far away from him as possible.
Dan held up the disc he'd taken out of Turner's pocket after she'd passed out. LEON . The technology he'd protected with his life. He couldn't believe the details on how to build the programmable flesh-eating nanobots still existed after what his team had witnessed. No wonder every threat to the known world wanted to get their hands on it.
He dropped it on the cement floor. The smack as it hit echoed through the empty warehouse. He brought his boot up.
This is for you, Gessler . Too bad his partner was no longer around to see Dan destroy LEON once and for all. As he brought his foot down, a voice caught him just before his boot made contact.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
His foot still hovering inches above the disc, Dan brought his eyes up to see JT standing in the doorway of the motor home, her arms firmly folded in front of her, pushing her breasts up even higher. She stepped down and made her way over to him.
Just the way she walked made him wake up and smell the pheromones. His mouth went dry. The way her hips swayed reminded him of palm trees in a smooth breeze. The t-shirt he'd found for her, along with a pair of Opie's shorts, made for an interesting, and enticing, outfit. As she approached, she unfolded her arms and
Dan had a very clear view of how cold it must be in the warehouse. You wouldn't be able to tell that from his point of view. Oh Jesus, no. It felt about two thousand degrees in there right now.
She'd found some way to comb out her dark hair, though he didn't know how, and had somehow made it shine in the scarce lighting of the warehouse. Her green eyes shined as well, making Dan forget why his foot was in the air in the first place.
The disc. Right. He moved his boot closer to the disc.
"I said I wouldn't do that if I were you."
"I heard you the first time. You aren't me." He brought his foot down. Quicker than he'd expected someone to be after taking a bullet, she snuck her foot under his and swept the disc out from under his boot.
"Thank God for small miracles." She flipped her hair back as she reached down and grabbed the disc. She almost had it in the pocket of her shorts before Dan had his hand on her wrist. He jerked and felt every one of her curves as it slammed into him. His chest pinched in response as he sprang to life once again.
"I don't think so, Turner." Lowering his gaze, he stared at her full lips. They stood only inches apart. It would be so easy to capture those lips with his, to feast on them and drink in the taste of her.
"Let go of me." Her eyes blazed up at him.
"Give me the disc."
"No."
"Give me the disc," he said with a little more conviction, stiffening when she wiggled and grazed up against his now rock-hard cock.
She locked gazes with him, narrowed her eyes. Ah, Christ. She'd felt it. How could she not? And why was she still grazing up against it, applying just enough pressure for him to stifle a groan.
Giving him a sly, knowing grin, she replied. "No."
"Don't make me take it from you." He dared her by cocking his brow. She wiggled again and Dan almost closed his eyes. He drew in a sharp breath.
"Why? So you can destroy it?"
"Damn straight."
"I don't think so." She jerked out of his grasp and brought her knee up. If his reflexes were a millisecond slower, he'd be singing soprano. Before she could take more than a few steps back, Dan had her back in his grasp. The way she looked up at him, offering him a come-and-get-me grin, had him fighting against the want—no, the need—to take those lips with his.
She did it on purpose. The little minx gave him a raging hard-on with nothing but a smile. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck. In an attempt to check his temper, not to mention his libido, he ground his teeth together. "Lady, you have no idea what that disc can do, what it has already done."
"The hell I don't. I've risked everything to get it."
Dan felt a chill wash over him, reminding him that, beautiful or not, she was a double-agent. Oh, she'd risked everything all right. And killed a few of her fellow agents, a couple of scientists, not to mention his friends. Add traitor to her country and greedy little bitch, and she'd have quite a tag line.
"Give me the disc, Turner."
"Go to Hell, Weber."
She tested his chivalry. He raised his hand, dropped it, and then raised it again. Damn this woman. "I don't want to hurt you, but I will."
"Ditto."
They stared each other down, neither willing to yield. Only when Stevens decided to join the party did Turner finally look away to watch him approach. Dan dropped her wrist and they both took a step back.
"Now that we have this LEON disc thing, and we've got Turner, what are we waiting for? Our orders were to return them to HQ."
"HQ?" JT's eyes darted between the men and Dan could have snapped Opie's neck on the spot. So much for getting her to come quietly. "No way. I can't. Not yet."
"Yet?" Dan turned his gaze to her. "Why not yet?"
"I haven't completed my mission, that's why not."
"Look, Turner. My orders were to bring you back to HQ, so I don't give a shit about what you think your mission is. "
"HQ sent me on this mission."
That tidbit caused him pause. Not likely. The little liar was willing to make anything up to not get nailed. Too late. Dan wasn't biting. He'd heard all the stories before. "Nice try."
"I'm serious. I'm in contact with HQ. Ask them."
That stopped Dan in his verbal tracks. Contact with HQ? Donovan specifically said she hadn't been in contact with them. Why would a mole have any contact within HQ? "Who's your contact?"
JT shook her head. "I don't know his name."
The little bit of hope that had somehow found its way into Dan's soul vanished. "Okay, enough of this." He reached over and grabbed her good arm. Hard. She winced, but remained silent. Without a word, Dan yanked the disc out of her lying hand and shoved it in the back of his BDUs.
"Hey!"
"Enough!" He spun around, stopping his face only inches from hers. He kept his voice low, cool, despite the want to scream at her until she understood just how damn dangerous LEON could be. His want for the woman took a sidebar to his need to complete his mission. "I'm through with your stories, Turner. You don't have a contact at HQ or I would have known about it."
She pushed him away from her with amazing strength. If she wasn't careful she'd rip her wound back open. He'd already patched her up once.
"Hey, you're bleeding again," Stevens spoke up.
JT glanced at her shoulder. The blood, although slowly, had found its way through the bandages he so carefully dressed. Both Dan and JT cussed in unison. Same word, too.
"Now look what you've done."
"How is this my fault?" Dan looked at her in disbelief and hated the way his pulse skipped when she lifted her brow. She looked back at him as if he should already know the answer.
He didn't need this. He'd done what he came to do. He'd deliver the mole, the disc, and wash his hands of the entire thing once and for all.
"Let's go, Turner." He turned toward the motor home, JT in tow. She struggled, which made him grasp her wrist tighter. She whimpered slightly, and damn if the noise didn't have an impact on him.
Mole. MoleMoleMole. He chanted the word over and over until his lust quit shooting little jolts of energy coursing through his body.
He stopped, turned. Those eyes, some of the prettiest green eyes he'd ever seen, were wide, pleading with him to hear her out. Either she was a damn fine actress, or she really needed his help. She darted her eyes around, focusing briefly on Stevens, before locking her gaze back on Dan.
She was desperate. He'd seen the look a thousand times, whenever he'd interrogated a tango. Too bad. She'd made her bed. Now it was time to sleep in it. Dan turned and strode back to the motor home, ignoring JT's protests. Once inside, he slammed the door so no one else could hear them.
"Now you listen to me, Turner."
"No! You listen to me. You have no idea what you are about to screw up. I've worked my ass off to get my hands on that disc. I'm not about to let you come in here like some hero-wannabe. I need this."
"What you need," he countered, "is to pull your head out of your ass. You aren't getting the disc."
She took a breath, swallowed it. "Please?"
"No, Turner."
She looked up at him then with those dangerous eyes and he felt a pull of emotions he couldn't begin to describe. He quickly squelched the wrenching in his gut. He hadn't eaten since this morning. That was all.
"Haven't you ever wanted to prove something? To right a wrong? That's what I'm trying to do."
Another fine display of her acting abilities. Dan would have thrown a rose on the stage at that one. He knew what it felt like to want to right a wrong. It drove him to the brink of his sanity each and every day.
Dan had been searching for the man responsible for his personal Hell for two years now. Obsessed with finding him, making him pay for what he'd done to Dan, and to his partner, Steve Gessler.
Jason Peck .
The bastard killed his partner, ended Dan's career as a NASSD agent, and was a traitor to his own country. Dan couldn't wait to get his hands on him. He didn't know what Turner
had to do with Peck, but knew there had to be a connection. He considered it a pleasure to track him down and ask Peck personally. The son-of-a-bitch turned on every one of his fellow agents. Sold them out.
So, yeah. He knew exactly what it felt to like to want to right a wrong.
But Turner using LEON to right the wrongs of the world was like blowing up the entire planet because someone, amongst two billion people, had a cold.
She had no idea what LEON was capable of.
He knew, based by the way they dressed and held themselves, the men after her in the parking lot were part of Mercado's group of hired muscle. Not only did he hear them yelling after JT in Spanish, they wore Mercado's mark on their less-than-conspicuous black turtlenecks.
So Santos Mercado really did have a bid on LEON . Interesting. Dan had studied the files NASSD sent him on the Mercado cartel. No doubt about it. The drug lord was saving his pennies for a rainy day.
Coincidence JT discovered the goldmine right before she disappeared? And now suddenly had LEON in her possession?
Riiight.
Good thing he came along when he did. Dan's instincts didn't let him down when he put his new team on the group at the Edgewater. He knew JT would be there, but didn't expect her to hand deliver LEON . An added bonus.
Something must have gone wrong to make them chase her away like that. Mercado wanted the weapon, and JT wanted the money. So what went wrong?
She must have demanded something they couldn't provide. Damn she was gutsy. Terrorists didn't place women too high on the food chain, even if they were every man's wet dream. He glanced at JT, taking interest in the way she chewed on her pouty lip. She definitely fit the part.
So why had she been covered in dirt and grime, and sported nothing but a coat? Not exactly meeting-with-terrorists attire. The image of her running toward him, the front of the coat opened to reveal JT Turner as God intended her to be, was now burned into his retinas. Why were they chasing her? Shooting at her?
Dan felt the unexplainable urge to hear her out. Why did his gut pinch and knot at the thought of turning her in? It was the right thing to do.
At Any Cost Page 4
