At Any Cost

by Allie K. Adams

  Yep, very enlightening.

  Productive, as well. Breakfast, get shot at. Lunch, form an alliance with a man she didn't know whether to trust or not. Dinner, get shot at again.

  Another reason to hate Mondays.

  She limped on her right due to stepping on one too many rocks. She limped on the left due to the humongous bruise on her foot from Dan's jaw. Her shoulder stopped bleeding finally. Maybe she'd run the blood well dry. God only knew she'd bled enough already.

  The pain in her shoulder had settled to a dull roar. It really didn't take long for the human body to repair itself. The gash would create a nasty scab, but would disappear in a few weeks.

  Much like her career as a NASSD agent.

  Did she even want to be a spy? She loved her country and would do anything to protect it. NASSD offered her a position with intel when she originally joined NASSD and she'd turned it down. She wanted action. JT laughed inwardly. Well, she got it.

  Be careful what you wish for.

  Intel wouldn't be so bad, if they'd still take her. She had a knack for numbers, for breaking undecipherable code, and could remember a person's voice after only hearing it once. She spoke English and bad English, which wouldn't count as two languages, she was sure. But JT hadn't met a task she couldn't master. That should count for something.

  Just one problem. She didn't want to be intel. She liked being a member of the counter-terrorism agency, just like her Uncle Charlie. For as long as she could remember, Uncle Charlie talked about being a Superspy. Her mother would always tell JT to ignore Uncle Charlie and his wild stories, that he was simply making them up for her entertainment. It wasn't until JT's father had been killed on a mission did her mother finally come clean.

  Yes , she'd told her. Your father and uncle belong to a secret underground organization whose mission is to remove any and all threats against the world, regardless of the risk. JT never did get the details of her father's death, only that Uncle Charlie disappeared for about six weeks after his funeral. When he'd returned, the once fantastic stories of his missions suddenly turned to tales of gore in gruesome detail.

  But JT couldn't forget how thrilling he'd made being a spy sound. He used to tell JT all about the glories of taking down the bad guy. JT knew she wanted to be NASSD. She wanted to be a Superspy and tell her kids and grandkids glorious stories of how she used to save the world, just like Uncle Charlie.

  Then NASSD went and shut down the project he'd been working on his entire adult life. He had a nervous breakdown as a result and they removed him as a NASSD agent. Permanently.

  JT couldn't believe it. Her uncle, a mountain of a man with shoulders big enough to block out the sun, was now nothing more that a crumpled, aged man sitting in his recliner in a convalescent center, staring out the window day in and day out.

  NASSD took his dream, his lifelong dream. They'd crushed it, and in turn crushed him. JT shuddered. They were about to crush hers, too. If she made it through all of this without a prison sentence, she'd be chained to a desk for the rest of her professional life.

  "Cold?"

  "It's forty degrees. I'm in shorts and a t-shirt. And I'm wet." JT could barely get that out before her voice started to shake. The last thing she wanted to show was her emotions. Women show their emotions. Not NASSD agents. Not JT Turner.

  And not in front of the surly Dan Weber.

  Now that she knew Dan wasn't the mole, could she trust him with the details of her mission? She'd have to. They were in this together now. They knew about him, which meant he was in as much trouble as JT.

  A quick glance behind her told her Dan was still there. Not that she needed to see him. She could actually feel him, feel the heat his gaze delivered. He could have left her. He could have saved his own ass. Instead he saved hers and risked his all in the same swift motion. And by doing so, made his presence known to the mole.

  "Where are we?"

  JT looked up. She hadn't been paying attention and almost passed the alley leading to the door to her second-story apartment. Inhaling deeply, she could smell Mr. Wong's Chinese cuisine. Her mouth watered. She hadn't eaten anything in almost twenty-four hours. JT made a mental note to call down to Mr. Wong when she got inside. Sure, it might be late, but he always had an extra bowl set aside for her.

  She threw open the heavy alley door and stopped. The stairs loomed in front of her. She'd never noticed how many there were before. With a deep sigh, she started to climb, every muscle aching in protest. She never realized how steep they were, either. Although she tried not to, she whimpered with every step.

  It felt like thousands of needles had imbedded themselves into the bottom of her feet. She didn't want to know what she'd really stepped in. Her hand on the rickety railing to keep her steady, she paused.

  An arm around her waist shocked her, and she stiffened. Dan looked down at her with those captivating eyes, robbing her of all reason. When he pulled her to him, her heart raced and thudded in her throat. "Let me help you. You've been through enough today."

  The feeling of his arm around her sent surges of heat through her, centering in her core. Her nipples, already painfully hard from the cold, puckered even more. Trembling, she held his gaze and nodded slightly. He disturbed her in so many ways. Those piercing blue eyes raked across her face, her heart. They were mixed with emotion, clouded, and JT didn't know whether he planned on helping her up the stairs, or throwing her down them.

  He licked his lips. As his gaze rose back up to her eyes, she felt the heat slam into her cheeks. He held her gaze as he lifted her into his arms. Not exactly the help she expected, but she didn't protest. Effortlessly, he climbed the rest of the stairs, set her down outside her door.

  JT didn't know what to think. She kept her eyes hidden, her mouth shut. The heat that had started in her cheeks now settled deep into her core. Were they having a moment? If she opened her mouth, would it ruin it?

  Judging on her past relationships, without a doubt. She stopped herself. Relationships? He helped her up the stairs, not proposed to her.

  She reached up and grabbed her extra key from above the door jam. Not exactly the safest hiding spot, but since she had a habit of losing her keys all the time, it worked for her.

  The door opened way too easily. In fact, it wasn't even locked. And JT knew she'd locked it. It was another of her habits. Lock the door. Lose the key.

  She stiffened, and Dan noticed. "What is it?" He asked, his voice slightly agitated. He pushed her behind him and opened the door slowly. "Do you have a weapon?"

  "Right. Hidden in my bra." Her non-existent bra.

  He looked at her, his gaze scraping over her face before settling on her breasts. Her nipples puckered to the point it hurt when they brushed against the fabric of the shirt. He spiked his brow as he brought his eyes back up to hers. "Trust me, Turner. If you had one on, I'd know."

  Heat slapped her cheeks. She looked down. The white cotton shirt she wore left nothing to the imagination. She might as well be naked for as much cover as it provided. At least the shorts were dark and still left her coarse curls from view.

  "Where's your closest weapon?"

  "Inside, strapped under the desk next to the door." Before she could stop him, he threw open the door and grabbed her weapon all in one swift move. Damn him! "Where's your gun?"

  "At the bottom of Elliot Bay . Stay behind me."

  "No." She pushed him aside. "This is my apartment. I have every right...to..." she trailed off, the sight stunning her into silence.

  Her apartment was in shambles. Every inch of the tiny place was overturned. Her couch cushions were ripped open and the stuffing strung all over the floor. Her picture frames were all broken, the pictures inside torn to shreds.

  JT tried to run inside, but Dan's large hand on her abdomen stopped her.

  "They may still be here." He kept his voice low and even, forcing her into the same sense of calm. "Stay behind me."

  "Let me in." Her voice shook. Damn it.

&
nbsp; "No."

  "Let me in! If they are still here, then I want to be the one to find them." She pushed him. He didn't move. His eyes bore into her, the muscle in his square jaw flexing and releasing.

  He thrust her 9mm into her hands. "Take this. Go to the right. I'll take the left."

  "But then what are you going to use for a weapon?"

  He raised his brows. "You said you wanted to do this, so let's do it." With that he disappeared into the bathroom off to her left. JT jumped into action and took the right. Her living room was clear, and aside from every drawer overturned and spilled all over the floor, her kitchen was clear, too.

  "Clear." His voice behind her scared the bejesus out of her. She tensed and spun around. He stood mere inches from her, that clouded look back in his eyes. A delicious shudder washed through her, pooling between her thighs.

  She couldn't help but notice the way his gaze kept drifting down to her lips. Licking them, she lifted her chin. She wanted those lips on hers. Now.

  "Change your clothes and grab a first aid kit if you have one. You have three minutes."

  Was he kidding? She could barely walk. She wanted a hot shower, an even hotter bowl of Mr. Wong's teriyaki chicken, and her bed. If he wanted to join her in bed, she wouldn't kick him out. Although they were both exhausted, she knew if he did join her, neither of them would get much sleep. The thought of his lips finally on hers, his hands on her body, his cock sheathed by her had her wet with want. "I have a better idea."

  She took a small step toward him. He didn't back away, which encouraged her to take another step.

  This time he did take a step back. "What are you doing?"

  "I just thought..." she nodded toward her bedroom, "you know."

  He growled and took another step back. "This is hardly the time, Turner. Get your stuff and let's go."

  JT huffed in return. What was the matter with her? He didn't want her, much to her dismay. Why couldn't she get it through her thick head? She'd never really had to deal with rejection before.

  Maybe he didn't get it. Maybe if she just walked up to him and grabbed his crotch, told him exactly what she wanted him to do with it, he'd give in. Her eyes lowered to the rigid shaft hiding behind his zipper, straining to spring free. Obviously parts of him wanted her, even if the stubborn ass refused to admit it.

  "You're doing it again."

  Her gaze flew up to his face. As his eyes narrowed in on her, she gave him a look to feign innocence. "What am I doing?"

  "Looking at me like I'm on the menu. I'm not interested." Even as he said it, he licked his lips and looked at her with such heated desire in his gaze she felt her body warm. He bit back whatever else he'd planned to say.

  Humiliation stung her eyes. He didn't want her. End of story. The mortification made it hard to breathe. She hated that she allowed herself to get caught up in the moment, to let her need for him taking over all other rational thought.

  When Dan went to the front door and stepped out into the hall, JT snapped out of her lust-induced trance. "Where are you going?"

  "We are getting the hell out of here. Now."

  "Dan, I can barely walk."

  He turned back to her. "I'll carry you if I have to."

  Yeah, right. Like he was in any better shape than she was. "Why are you so hell bent on leaving?"

  His eyes traced the inside of her apartment. Yes, it was a disaster. She didn't even want to see her bedroom. Her heart stopped. No doubt her underwear drawer had been strung all over her bedroom. Did he see all her lacy unmentionables?

  The way he studied her right now told her he did. His eyes slowly moved from her face down to her breasts, where they again puckered at the mental contact. After he'd taken his time memorizing her chest, his eyes continued down until he seemed to stare at her toes. She wiggled them. "Get some shoes on this time."

  JT cursed her body's reaction to him. Might as well plaster her attraction to this man across her forehead. "You still haven't answered my question."

  He looked around her apartment again. "In case you haven't noticed, Turner, your apartment has been ransacked."

  The fire hit her cheeks. She wasn't a complete idiot, despite what he may think. Jerk. "I noticed. But that doesn't mean we have to leave."

  "Come again?"

  "They were obviously looking for the disc. Now that they have it, they won't be back." The realization of her failure smacked her across the face. In her eagerness to prove her worth, she'd successfully stolen the world's most lethal weapon and personally handed it over to the enemy.

  Talk about a failed mission.

  * * * *

  The color splashing across her cheeks brought the green out in her sexy eyes. She tossed her pistol at him. "Watch the door."

  Dan grabbed the pistol and shoved it into the back of his pants. He didn't want to watch the door. He wanted to watch her. He tried his damnedest to block out how she might look in some of the lacy things now strung all over her bedroom. The deep red and sexy-as-hell lacy thong he'd spotted hanging on the corner of her bed had him hard just thinking about her tight ass in it. And then out of it. Ah, hell. Why fight this?

  He wanted her. She was female. He was male. Nothing more to it. Right? Right.

  No doubt she was naked on the other side of that bedroom door. The curves of her body fit perfectly in his when he helped her up the stairs. Although she'd been through Hell before jumping into Puget Sound , she still smelled amazing. Like the apple blossoms that grew on the tree in his backyard where he grew up.

  He heard water running and figured she must have jumped in the shower. Good. She looked like she'd been shot and thrown into salt water. And yet she still looked damn tempting. Mouth-watering. Delicious.

  The thought of JT without a stitch of clothing on made his pants excruciatingly tight. He tried to adjust himself, but it did absolutely nothing to relieve the pressure. Only one thing would.

  JT Turner.

  Dan threw that idea out. This morning he thought she was the mole. He was ready to turn her over to the firing squad. Hell, he was ready to shoot her himself.

  But then he'd met her, actually talked to her. He'd never met anyone like her. Most women he knew used their gender to their advantage. Not JT. She expected to be treated equally. When he offered to help her up the stairs, he braced himself for her to push him down them.

  But those damn noises she made drove him crazy! They were heart-wrenching, gut-stirring, body-tensing. He wondered if she made those same noises when she made love. And then all he could think about was how much he wanted to be the reason she made those noises.

  He'd done the first thing he could think of before he took her right there on the stairs. Carrying her up seemed like the quickest way to shut her up. And it gave him an excuse to touch her again.

  Dan had to give himself credit. Any other red-blooded male would have given in to her feline temptations by now. He noticed the way she lifted her chin to grant him access to those soft, very delicious-looking lips. He almost gave into the pleasures of the flesh. Twice. But as he drew her close to him, looked deep into those pretty eyes, another set of pretty eyes flashed across his memory.

  He ran his fingers over the scar on his chest. His permanent reminder of what happens when a man drops his guard, all for the love of a woman. The first woman he'd ever loved. Truly loved. Head over heels loved.

  Raven.

  Of course, he knew it wasn't her real name. He never bothered to learn her real name. He didn't care. She was intoxicating. Her dark eyes, dark hair, incredible body. He fell for it all.

  And it almost got him killed.

  He still couldn't remember everything from that night. After she stabbed him in the chest, he'd blacked out. But not before she saw him charge his best friend and drop him by slicing his throat.

  Dan thought about the woman on the other side of the door. She wasn't Raven. She wasn't the mole. She was all woman, flesh and blood. And he wanted her, needed her. He needed the touch of
woman again to prove not all of them were evil, cold-blooded killers. Except that JT was a trained killer, trained by the same organization that trained him.

  The water stopped, which meant she would only have a towel covering her moist skin. The little water droplets would be cascading down the curves of her breasts, dripping off her nipples, taking the path his mouth longed to take. The coarse curls covering her mound would be glistening with wetness, and knew it wouldn't only be from the water. He saw the way she responded to him. Hell, she practically jumped him in the kitchen. She definitely started laying him with her eyes. Why, again, did he turn her down? He couldn't quite remember his reasoning behind that decision.

  Jesus, he needed a cold shower, and maybe another dip in Elliott Bay . Something, anything to get JT Turner out of his system. Aside from the obvious.

  He looked down at his damp clothes. At least they were almost dry. But a nice hot shower sounded awfully tempting. "My turn in the shower."

  The door flew open and her head poked out, her eyes wide. Her wet hair clung to her cheeks, dripped on the floor. "What did you say?"

  He blinked at her reaction. Did she have something against showering? If she wanted to conserve water, they could always shower together. It didn't matter that she'd already had one. For what he wanted to do, they wouldn't be in the shower too long before finding their way to the bed to lick every drip of moisture from her tantalizing flesh.

  He growled low in the back of his throat. That's the way to get over your urges, Weber. Keep thinking like that and you'll be lifting cars for the rest of the night. "Shower?"

  "My shower is only big enough for one."

  Her comment threw him. Was she inviting him? Telling him no? He couldn't figure this woman out. Before he could stop himself, he jumped right in with both feet. "Perfect. For what I have in mind we'll only need the corner."

  She appeared shocked, but only for a moment. Then she arched her brow. "And what did you have in mind?"