So why did it feel so wrong?
* * * *
JT sat on the bed and kept her eyes on Weber as he leaned back against the counter, his arms folded in front of him, his fingers drumming on a rather large, well-defined bicep. He didn't speak. He simply stood there studying JT with amazingly blue, yet untrusting eyes. His handsome jaw hardened and softened as he kept a watchful eye on her. She had to look away before he found some way to peer into her soul and saw just how unsure she was about what she'd gotten herself into.
Her body responded to everything about him. The looks he kept tossing her made her breasts ache, her nipples harden almost painfully. When they were tangling earlier, she felt the hardness of his erection, so she knew he responded to her, too.
This was the wrong time to for her to swear off men. At least tall, sexy men who looked like he could make her come without breaking a sweat. He sure had her sweating. But after dealing with all the ogling eyes and roaming hands while at Gahanna , she'd convinced herself all men were pigs.
When she brought her eyes back up, trying to ignore the throbbing between her legs, she saw him still staring at her and she couldn't find any reason to pull away. Good-looking man, she noted. No, good-looking didn't really describe Dan Weber. Perfectly carved would be more like it. Buzzed hair she'd guess to be blond. Incredible eyes. Enormous shoulders that should have their own zip code. If she were in any other situation, she just might let him buy her a drink.
Instead, he held her prisoner in a rusty old RV. Who was this guy, really? Could he be the notorious Dan Weber? It could be a common name. The other two clearly feared him. And for some unexplainable reason, JT felt a sense of fear wash through her at the sight of him. Not for her life, but something entirely different. He pulled reactions from her she didn't know she had in her.
She couldn't find a single picture on file for the highly decorated, even more highly respected Dan Weber. Good thing. If she knew he looked even better than the man from those Transporter movies, she might have printed out his picture and hung it in her locker, just like she used to do with her Duran Duran posters.
JT sighed. She was supposed to meet with her contact in less than eight hours. That gave her just enough time to steal the disc back from Weber, escape, and make it to the rendezvous point for the transfer and debrief.
She could hardly wait.
Her current assignment had her eating too many meals from the gas station to count. And getting shot. And now defending herself against some sort of sexy cyborg in NASSD clothing.
Weber finally moved toward her, and JT didn't know whether to brace herself for fight or flight. But then he knelt in front of her, his arms on either side of her. His hooded eyes bored down on her, and her skin prickled in response.
She felt trapped. When he brought his hand up to her shoulder, she jerked away.
And instantly regretted it. The pain from the sudden movement blasted through her system. Her hand shot up to her shoulder in an attempt to what? Protect her shoulder? A little late for that, Turner.
"Easy," he said smoothly, grabbing her hand and lowering it back down to her side. His hand lingered over hers a bit longer than needed. JT's guard rose. His touch was gentle, soothing. Nothing like before. It made her flesh tingle, her body respond by sending surges of desire straight to her clit, and baffled the hell out of her.
He lifted the sleeve of the shirt to expose her shoulder. With a lick of his lips that made her lick hers in response, he went about the task of removing her soiled dressing. Only inches from her, she could smell him. Not that either of them smelled particularly good right now, but he had a musky scent on him that made her senses hum. Aftershave? Not likely. NASSD agents rarely wore scented products. Even their deodorant was unscented. One memorable scent could turn a mission deadly.
It was him. Damn. JT closed her eyes to get a grip on her overly-stimulated senses.
"Hurt?"
She opened her eyes and looked at him. "Of course it hurts. I had a cannon ball dig a cavern in my arm."
He chuckled, the sound low in his throat. She would have missed the curl on his lips if she hadn't been studying them at that exact moment. Her heartbeat started to throb in her ears.
"It was a small caliber, and it didn't even penetrate." Hearing that word made her core clench in response. "It may have been a .22. Left a nice little groove in the meat of your shoulder. And I do mean little."
A .22? That's it? Man, what a big baby. A .22 was only big enough to piss a person off. Unless they were standing next to the shooter, a caliber that small wouldn't do much. Aside from hurt like hell. She now knew that from personal experience. Feeling the need to defend herself, she added, "It felt like a cannon."
That comment brought a spike to his brow. "Been shot before?"
"No. You?"
"Stabbed once. Never shot." He finished dressing her wound and finally met her eyes. Something moved in them, dark and unnerving. His expression hardened. "Yet."
The tone made her heart flip, and not for the right reasons. It sent all of her heightened desires running for cover. He stood and stormed away, leaned back against the counter as before. Stunned at how he could go from hot to cold with a snap of the fingers, JT decided to stay put so not to aggravate him further.
"You plan on telling me the truth any time soon?"
JT looked up at him. Incredibly handsome or not, she didn't know who to trust, and decided he wasn't any more likely a candidate than the tall redhead outside. They mentioned HQ, and for all JT knew, the leak came from inside HQ. "You plan on letting me go any time soon?"
"Not until you talk."
"Then I guess we sit."
"I'm prepared to wait as long as it takes. By the way you keep eyeing the door, it looks like you have somewhere to be."
She didn't want to know how he knew that. "I do."
"Looks like you'll be missing a meeting, then. Is this one a higher bidder than the last? Is that what happened?"
Heat hit her cheeks. This guy was way off. But in telling him exactly what her mission entailed, she'd be going against a direct order. This mission was classified. No partners. No contact with anyone else in NASSD or HQ. Trust no one. That's what her contact had told her.
Bummer. Her tongue almost tingled to talk with anyone about her mission. This guy looked on the level, but so did every other NASSD agent. And the fact someone else knew of her mission meant there was a NASSD agent who wasn't on the level.
She looked up at Weber again. The way he just kept watching her, no emotion in those deep blue pools, made her realize he wasn't about to yield. Neither was she.
Stalemate.
JT huffed in frustration. She had to get that disc back, had to get out of here. For all she knew, Weber planned to take that disc to the open market. After all, he picked an interesting time to come back to the agency. Maybe he planned to steal LEON for himself. Maybe he worked for the group she'd just stolen the disc from.
"Why did you steal the disc?"
"Why didn't you?"
She refused to look up at him. She didn't owe this man a thing. Well, aside from him saving her life. Stubbornly, she thrust out her chin.
"You can make this easy, Turner. Or you can make it hard."
"What are you going to do, torture it out of me?"
"If that's what it takes."
JT shook her head. "No you won't."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Because you're NASSD, like me. At least you used to be." She looked up at him, judging his reaction to her statement. Of course he remained still, expressionless. Damn robot. Handsome, arrogant robot. How could he not have any reaction to that dig? He displayed absolutely no emotion as he raked his eyes over her, pulling yet another baffling, irritating reaction from her body. When his silence was just about to make her scream, she added, "You're the Dan Weber, aren't you?"
His features grew absolutely still. His shoulders tensed. The look in his eyes scared her. "Been looking for me?"
The sound of his voice, so low and dangerous, made her suck in a breath. No fear. Calm and cool. She concentrated on her training, shrugged easily with her good shoulder. "I didn't even know you were back in. Had I known..." she trailed off and sucked on her lower lip, hoping he'd bite.
He did. "You would have what?"
"Looked you up. You were practically required reading."
"I'll bet. And the others?"
JT swung her eyes up to his. "What others?"
She didn't think it possible, but his features hardened further. Despite his reaction to her earlier, this man really didn't like her. Although she remained calm on the outside, her insides were in a whirlwind. He wouldn't hurt her, would he? Because that's exactly what he looked like he wanted to do. JT doubled up her fists. If he took a swing at her, she'd be ready.
"Tell me about the others, Turner. Did you fuck them to gain information? Or did you use some other form of torture?"
JT glared at him. She would never sleep with anyone to gain information. She'd only had a few lovers in her life, which hardly gave her enough experience to do something like that. Besides, she'd sworn off men after breaking one of the Neely brothers' nose when he grabbed her ass.
And torture? What in the hell was this guy talking about? "The last time I checked, torturing fellow agents wasn't in the manual."
The murderous glare in his eyes equaled, even surpassed, hers. "And killing is?"
Her jaw dropped. She would have taken another bullet to be able to read his mind just then. He looked at her with such venom in his glare, such hatred, she felt her skin crawl with goose bumps. What had the Dan Weber she'd read about turned into? She'd heard he'd been forced into early retirement. She'd also heard he simply up and walked away. No one knew the real story behind his departure. No one, that was, except him.
Did he want his old position back? Was he back to take her out so he could assume his rightful place in NASSD as the top assassin?
"You plan to kill me?"
He sighed, pinched the skin between his eyes. "No. As much as I'd like to personally see you pay for what you've done, my orders were to take you back to HQ. And I, unlike you, follow orders."
No? That answer should have made her feel better, but knowing he planned to turn her over to HQ made her pulse quicken. The mole could be anyone, anywhere. Even HQ. Even him. Having Weber take her anywhere could be feeding her to the lions. "And the disc?"
"The disc goes with me."
All this because she stole the disc from those terrorist dickheads? She was supposed to steal the disc from them. That was her mission. A mole within the folds of NASSD had stolen the disc and sold it to the enemy. JT's job was to steal it back. She took it upon herself to add to her mission. She wanted to find the mole, the traitor to his country, and personally turn him in.
She had to play the part as the extra friendly rookie agent/woman, seeking out the agents on the LEON project and making stupid excuses to talk to them, just to rule them out. She'd contacted all the ones still with the agency, according to her list.
She'd found Fish—real name Pete Saunders. Tight-lipped and no help. Then there was Sandman—Aaron Cummings. Even tighter-lipped. Equally no help. Doughboy—Fred Johnson. Gameboy—Bruce Aims.
She'd learned from them there were more originally assigned to the project. One was dead, one retired, and one disappeared.
Then there was someone by the codename of Hollywood . She couldn't find him, and no matter how much she begged and pleaded, not one of the agents would talk to her about him. The term 'loose cannon' was used more than once to describe him.
Which gave her ample cause to suspect him as the mole. Now if she could just find him.
Instead of finding the mole at The Edgewater Inn, waiting to strike a deal with the enemy, she found the actual terrorist group in the bar, boasting about already having the disc. She listened in and gathered enough information to locate the disc, and easily took it back. It was almost too easy. It didn't even dawn on her it could have been a set up.
Her glare rested on Weber. Until now. "So now what? Are you going to tell me what's going on?"
He looked at her, obviously deliberating whether to tell her or not. After what seemed an eternity of silence and staring, he finally spoke one simple word. "No."
"Figures." JT glanced around the room. The walls were lined with surveillance equipment. She didn't know why she'd never noticed it before. Top of the line, expensive equipment. Some of the best she'd seen in a while. Wow. NASSD went all out for this guy. Yet they wouldn't even offer up a partner for her. Wonderful. Got to love double standards.
JT mulled over how she was going to convince him to hand over the disc. She could try to take it by force, but that would be futile. He had to be six three, maybe six four, and a good two hundred something perfectly proportioned pounds. His dark cotton shirt stretched to capacity to cover his broad shoulders, and showed off a rather impressive torso. The black BDUs hugged his thighs. She wouldn't be able to get her Battle Dress Uniforms to look so good on her. They'd never looked so good on anyone, and she doubted they ever would. Those dark blue eyes narrowed when he caught her looking at him. No, not just looking at him.
Gawking at him.
She smiled, though she couldn't begin to explain why. Lord knows he hadn't given her much to smile about thus far. He cocked his brow, mumbled something she knew she didn't want to hear again, and turned his gaze to the window. "Stop looking at me like that."
Licking her lips, she replied, "Like what?"
His brows pulled together as he turned his head, resting his eyes on her. He didn't look all too pleased and JT wanted to dive under the covers. The thought of him joining her stirred up something heated and dark in the depths of her soul.
Stop that! JT huffed.
"Like that. The way you're looking at me right now. It might have worked on the others, but it won't work on me."
"O-kaaay." JT turned away. She didn't have a clue how she'd been looking at him. Well, okay. So she may have been mentally undressing him. That and she may have been wondering what it would feel like to run her fingers over what she was sure would be the perfect balance of chest hair and heavenly chorded pectorals.
Why did he keep talking about others? Other what? Maybe other voices in his head? No wonder NASSD booted him to the curb. The guy was nuts. Too bad. "You've got issues, Weber."
He chuckled, but there wasn't an ounce of humor in its sound. "You have no idea."
Her insides turned to molasses. Were they having a moment? Was he, dare she say, starting to warm to her?
"I have to make a call. Try to escape and I'll shoot you without a second thought." With that, he was gone.
So much for that theory.
Chapter 4
JT couldn't hear Dan as she watched him pace around the front of the RV, his cell pasted firmly to his ear. Whatever conversation he was having, and whoever he was having it with, wasn't going well.
He glared up at her through the windshield as if he could feel her watching him. JT chewed on the inside of her lip and looked around the RV for an escape route.
"No, damn it!" She whipped her head toward the door as Dan stepped inside, his cell still on his ear. "Donovan, this is insane. Yes, she's sitting right here. No. No, damn it! There's no other way?"
JT watched his face grow more and more red. The little vein in his temple started to throb. Whatever Donovan had to say didn't settle well with Dan Weber. It was probably Ron Donovan from HQ, one of the head honchos she'd met back at Gahanna . This guy had friends in high places.
He paced up and down the narrow hall of the RV, growling every time he bumped into something. JT wondered why he came back inside if he wanted to stay mobile. The motor home definitely didn't lend itself well to a pacer.
"There's got to be another way." He glanced sideways at JT as she combed her fingers through her hair. He paused, watched the action with great interest. A quick blink and he was back to his
wonderful, agitated self. His back to her, he became a brick wall. Suddenly at a stop, he abruptly turned and rested his cold eyes on her. "No. She told me that."
Told him what? What did she say? JT stood and eyed the window. It would be a tight fit, but she'd make it. Stevens and Brooks wouldn't even slow her down.
Dan Weber, on the other hand, would find great pleasure in stopping her. Dead.
"Fine. No, I'm not. Not like I really have a choice in this, is there?" He slammed the top of the cell down. "Looks like there's been a little change in plans, Turner."
She stepped toward the window. NASSD agents disappeared all the time. No way was she just going to sit back and let him take her out to the middle of nowhere to put a bullet in her head. "Like what?"
"You let me worry about the details."
Another step. She felt a tickle as a bead of sweat ran down between her shoulder blades. Her heart started to thud in her chest. Ignoring the pain, she stretched out both shoulders to ready herself. "Who was that?"
He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. "HQ. Apparently they don't want you." He captured her eyes with his. "And neither do I. So now we have a situation."
Situation? Not if she could help it. Another step. One more and she'd rip open the window and jump. If he shot her in the back, at least she'd go down running. Oh God, her heart fluttered so fast she felt close to passing out. "What sort of situation?"
"It seems I need to either get rid of you." He looked at her when she inadvertently gasped.
That's all she needed to hear. With a swiftness ingrained through her training, she jumped toward the window and grabbed the frame to throw it open. The damn thing wouldn't budge.
She felt for the lock. There wasn't one. What, was the damn thing welded shut? She spotted the welds and her heart flipped painfully.
Damn. Of course.
Her eyes darted around, searching for another escape. God, please. She didn't want to die like this. She could be a good agent. Just let her get through this. She'd prove it to NASSD.
"What are you doing?" He asked casually. Way too casually. Didn't the man even have a heart?
At Any Cost Page 5
