by Spear, Terry
Still the concern that had shown in her face earlier, nagged at him. She’d remembered something. Was it that she couldn’t figure out truly what it meant? Or was it something that scared her so, she was afraid to reveal the truth to him, or even to herself? He hoped it was the former, but feared it was the latter. Yet, he couldn’t force the memories from her. They had to evolve at their own pace.
Normally a patient man, he realized taking it slow with Jenny in any department tried him to the limit.
***
When Jenny woke, Allan was gone. Immediately, her heart rate kicked up a beat. She pulled the covers aside, day having turned to night, and glanced at the lighted alarm clock. Ten. Hushed voices spoke in the other room.
Trying to settle her nerves, she climbed off the mattress, then hurriedly dressed in the Army fatigues. When she had finished tying her boots, the door opened.
Allan smiled at her, the light from the living area, spilling into the bedroom. Dressed in his uniform of a black T-shirt, trousers and combat boots, he looked like he was ready to do serious business with the bad guys. But his devilishly handsome smile brought a tingle of electricity surging through her body.
He flipped on the light switch, closed the door behind him, then crossed the room to her.
“Any word, Allan?” She hated to ask, hated to want to think about what was coming.
Pulling her from the chair, he kissed her mouth. She melted against him, snuggling her head against his hard chest, wondering if he wanted to undress her and make passionate love all over again.
“They’re out there.” He kissed the top of her head. “Just waiting for us to shut down for the night. But no word as yet.”
He pointed to the television. “The guys have a movie for us to watch.” He made a slight face. “A romance, to keep our minds off the inevitable.”
She smiled. “A romance, eh? Might give us some ideas.”
“Yeah, well, with the kind of moves you make, you don’t need any lessons.”
She laughed.
For two and half hours they watched the movie, shared buttered, salty popcorn, and sipped Cokes. She hadn’t remembered a time when she’d enjoyed watching a movie more, cuddled against one handsome figure of a secret agent man. And he was all hers.
He took her hand in his and kissed it. “We’ll have to do something about these rings.”
She considered them for a moment, not sure what he was talking about.
He took a deep breath. “The first chance we get, I want to buy you a pair.”
Then she realized they were Agency rings, totally impersonal. “I’d love that.” She reached for his hand, then ran her finger over his tanned skin. “No ring mark.”
“No, never wore a wedding ring when I was married to Millie.”
She smiled. “Well, no husband of mine is going to be running around without a ring on his finger. Don’t want any woman to get the notion you’re free and available.”
He chuckled. “You’re dragging out the ball and chain already, I see.”
“Absolutely. If I have to show the guys I’m off-limits, you have to show the gals that, too.”
A knock on the door sounded. Allan kissed Jenny’s cheek then pulled free from her and crossed the floor to the door. Her back stiffened immediately as her whole body shifted to combat mode.
“Yeah?”
“It’s started.”
Allan glanced at his watch. “I guess Stevens is a bit anxious to get it over with.”
“Yep. We’re all set. Our lookouts said eight men were closing in on the condo like a lasso around the neck of a bull.”
“We’ll have to show them what this bull can do.”
“Exactly. Jenny all right?”
“Told you, she’s a trooper.”
Except for the light from the images on the television set, the living area and rest of the third floor was dark. Jenny noticed it was half past twelve. Between the earlier nap she’d had, and the caffeine-loaded soda, she was wide awake.
Dale moved back into the living area.
Allan pulled the finished movie tape out and stuck another one in. “We probably won’t get into the movie very far, but having the background noise, will help to lure Stevens and his men into thinking we’re fully occupied. But I want them to see you if they make it in here at all, to ensure that you don’t get hurt.”
She didn’t like the idea she would be sitting in the room in the semi-dark waiting for the bad guys to show up like a bull’s eye on a round white target. She would rather be crouched in the dark with a gun ready to fire.
A noise on the roof caught their attention. Allan looked at the ceiling. Jenny fought the urge to join Dale in the other room.
Allan got on his cell phone. “Some of them are on the roof.” He closed up his phone and patted her hand. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a bit.”
She watched him disappear into the dark, her knight with his weapon readied to fight the dragon. But she didn’t like sitting on the bed, waiting for the bad guys to rush her.
Shots were fired downstairs. Then the yelling began. Someone screamed out in pain. More shouts and scuffling of boots against wooden floors followed. On her floor, except for the romance playing on the television, everything was deathly quiet.
She wrung her hands, then glanced at the lamp. Porcelain, three feet tall. It would do. She rose from the bed intent on grabbing her weapon when shots rang out in the living room. Cameron yelled something. Glass crashed with an ear-shattering sound.
Jenny dashed across the bedroom and grabbed the lamp when the ceiling seemed to fall in all at once, raining down bits of plaster and insulation, a cloud of dust in its wake. A rope snaked down to the floor.
Scuffling and more shots sounded in the living area.
Instantly, one man, then another, slid down the rope into the bedroom and headed for her. Both were dressed in black, their faces blackened with grease pencil, the whites of their eyes standing out against the darkness. They looked like the devil’s messengers sent straight from hell.
Jerking the lamp’s cord free from the outlet, she swung the base at the first man. He blocked the lamp with his arm. The thud of the porcelain slammed against his bone followed by a cracking noise, and the man yelped.
The other advanced. “Damn it, grab her!”
She recognized his dark voice. Randy Stevens. Her skin crawled with chill bumps, and she darted for the doorway. He grabbed her arm and yanked her to the rope.
The other man cursed. “She broke my arm.”
Stevens didn’t respond to him, trying to keep his grip on her. But she twisted free. With the other man distracted and favoring his arm, she managed to slip his gun from his grasp.
“Get down on the floor, both of you,” she shouted, waving the gun from one to the other.
“You imbecile,” Stevens said to his companion. He lunged for Jenny, but she fired a shot. One single shot.
Stevens fell to the floor with an oof. She turned the gun on the other man. “Get on the floor!”
“Jenny!” Allan shouted and barged into the room.
The man complied, dropping to his face on the floor.
“I’m all right,” she said. Her voice shook and her hands trembled.
Shots still rang out both on their floor and down below.
Allan shoved Stevens aside and felt his pulse. The bullet was lodged in the center of his temple. “Dead,” Allan pronounced, then attempted to handcuff the other.
The man screamed out in pain. “She broke my arm!”
Allan searched him for weapons. After securing a gun and two knives from the man, Allan handcuffed him to the leg of the bed. “Agents will come for him and interrogate him further.”
He rummaged through Stevens’s clothes and relieved him of another gun. With all the shooting done, Allan lifted his phone to his ear.
Lights came on in the living room, but Jenny couldn’t tear her gaze away from Allan’s actions. Flashes of images of having done somet
hing similar before—shooting a man in the forehead, just like she’d done, and searching for weapons—appeared vividly in her subconscious for an instant, then faded dead into the dark foreboding recesses of her mind. Had she been a military police officer on active duty?
“Yeah?” Allan’s voice was hard, businesslike. “All right. We’re out of here.”
He reached out his hand to her, palm up.
She frowned at him. She didn’t want to give up her gun. If she hadn’t killed Stevens, he might have had her on the roof and spirited away to see Wilson already.
Allan tilted his chin down and looked up at her. He motioned for her to give him the gun. She sighed deeply, put the safety on, and handed it to him.
“I need a gun.” Brushing past him, she headed toward the living area.
Grabbing her arm, he pulled her against his warm body. He kissed her mouth and hugged her tightly. “You have me.”
“Yeah, right. And where were you when I needed you?”
He smiled. “I was coming to your rescue.”
“Late as usual.” She couldn’t help the frustration coating her words. She wanted to have her own gun to use for protection. Realizing then she hated to rely on others, she wondered if she’d ever be a team player. She hmpfd under her breath. She would have been a team player, if she’d been given a chance.
He led her out of the room, her gaze taking in the shattered glass coffee table, and three dead terrorists, their bloodied corpses lying still, scattered about the living area. None of it bothered her. Why not? Shouldn’t she have vomited on the spot? What on earth was wrong with her?
Dale was wrapping tape around Cameron’s arm.
“Are you all right?” Jenny pulled away from Allan and joined Cameron.
He smiled. “Yeah, just a graze. I have to have a couple of these a year to keep me on my toes.”
Lantham burst through the door. “Cars are ready. Turned out there were more than we expected. Guess Stevens didn’t want to take any chances of getting her back to Wilson. He’s not in the body count downstairs though.”
“Jenny nailed him.”
Cameron and Dale looked at her.
She smiled. “I found my own gun for protection.”
They turned to Allan for an explanation. “She took it away from Stevens’s henchman, who is still handcuffed to the bed. She broke his arm first.”
Dale raised his brows. “I hate to ask how your sweet little wife did that.”
Jenny folded her arms. “Lamps are my specialty.”
Dale chuckled. “I told you she was undercover agent material.”
“Over my dead body.” Allan grasped Jenny’s arm and headed for the door. “Let’s get a move on.”
“What do you mean by that?” Jenny frowned at Allan. What if she were some super undercover agent? She laughed inwardly at the idea, but the thing was, would he resent it all that much? It was okay for her to be a simple tax accountant, but not a secret agent like him? It was fine for her to sit at home waiting for him to come back to her while he had all of these wild adventures, but it wasn’t okay for her to have her own?
The strawberry margaritas she’d share with Roxie sounded better by the minute.
“Are you okay, Jenny?” he asked as he hurried her into a waiting dark green SUV.
“Yes.” Her word was sharp, but she couldn’t help the way she was feeling. Then she took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself.
He slipped into the seat beside her, forcing her to move over for him as Dale and Samuel slid into the front seat. Lantham tossed some bags into the trunk, then slapped the car and gave a thumbs up.
When they rolled along the road, three other vehicles quickly escorted them.
“What about Cameron?” she asked, still concerned about his wound.
“The doctors will fix his scratch, then he’ll return to duty. He’ll have a choice, sit at a desk for a while, or, if he wants, he might rejoin us,” Dale offered.
“Jenny,” Allan said, wrapping his fingers around her fisted hand, “are you okay?”
“Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?” she snapped. She hadn’t meant to, not really, not in front of Allan’s partners. But her whole system was on edge. She couldn’t understand what was bothering her either, and it was driving her insane.
“Jenny’s feeling shock over seeing the dead men,” Dale said. “She was accosted in the bedroom by the other two. The adrenaline rush is still in her system. She’s killed a man. Fear at being taken to Wilson. She needs time to cope. She’s dealing with an awful lot all at once, Allan.”
She hated being treated like she wasn’t even in the car. Allan unclenched her fist, then flattened her hand against his thigh, caressing her fingers with his gentle touch, stroking in between them.
All at once, whatever animosity she was feeling drained from her body, and she wanted Allan to make love to her all over again.
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. He smiled and turned his mouth against hers.
Dale cleared his throat. “I’d say though, she’ll be feeling just fine in no time.”
She smiled against Allan’s upturned lips, then the kissing began all over again.
***
Thurman cursed out loud. Then he calmed his temper and said into the phone, “All right, so they removed fifteen bodies in body bags and only one man was taken out in handcuffs. That better mean Angel is dead.”
“Yeah, boss,” Caruso said. “He went in through the roof, but unless he’s hiding up there, he’s in one of the body bags they brought out.”
“Where are they heading?”
“Off the island so far. I’ll let you know when they get situated. They’re playing a bit of musical vehicles though. Already parked in one warehouse, then some of the vehicles left and another set went in another direction.”
“Don’t lose her.”
Caruso didn’t respond.
“Caruso?”
“No boss.”
Thurman slammed the phone down. Damn his hired hands. If Caruso lost her, he was a dead man.
Thurman ran his hand over his heart. The pain had returned. The woman was bound to give him a heart attack as aggravated as she was making him. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured himself another glass. After tossing the burning liquid down his throat, he swallowed. He’d make her pay for every bit of it, too, nice and slow.
Chapter 15
The next morning, Jenny stretched her arms in bed, the early hour still cloaking the room in darkness. She yawned, then listened as men spoke in the next room in a low drone. Cool air filled the bedroom, and she pulled the comforter to her neck, realizing at once she was naked. She smiled. Sure she was. All she remembered was dragging into the lakeside cottage from a long drive after flying to Logan International Airport in Boston. Mile after mile they’d driven. Then, they ended up at a safe house on Lake Swanzee in New Hampshire.
After that, Allan had made sure everyone had their assignments for the night. But when he was done with that, he was all hers. She hugged his pillow to her body, his spicy male scent still clinging to the fibers. Hmm, she wanted to open the door and wag her finger at him to lure him back into the bedroom for an arousing good morning wakeup.
Come to think of it, they had made love earlier that morning. She smiled again. The afterglow still surrounded her in tingling warmth. For a few minutes, she snuggled under the covers, then getting the courage to leave the coziness of the bed, she fumbled around for a lamp. Not finding one, she reached along the wall. Her fingers met a metal object feeling very much like a light fixture attached to a board on the wall. She poked around at it until she found a switch and turned on the light.
Immediately, she squinted. The voices in the other room ceased at once. Yeah, sleeping beauty had awakened. Not arisen, but was half awake anyway. How could they expect her to get up early, when her secret agent man plied her with sinfully ecstatic pleasure all night long?
She glanced around the bedroom and conside
red the scant furnishings. An old dresser sat against one wall, a closet next to this, and a door into the room where the men’s voices had been. Two twin beds were shoved together against the opposite wall. The bedspreads, old beige chenille, clung to the beds. She wondered how Allan and she’d managed not to fall between the beds during their lovemaking episodes. She guessed that the place was meant for an agents’ safe house, no need for double beds.
Her attention switched to the two windows cut into another wall, covered in no-nonsense ivory cotton drapes. No pictures adorned any of the framed out walls. No wonder the place was chilly. Even though it was late summer, the nights could get cool in the woods. With no insulation on the inside walls the place would...
She rubbed her temple. How did she know that it could get cool at night in New Hampshire? She lived in Texas. There, it went from hot, to less hot at night. But certainly not cool. Not in the summer.
She took a deep breath. She must have been to the area at some time in her past. Then she remembered. Roxie had shown her a picture of them at a lake in New Hampshire. Chill bumps dotted her arms. She knew it couldn’t have been this lake, this place. But now she knew she was getting her memories back, little by little. She wished she’d asked Roxie more about their vacation here. Maybe she could visit some of the places she’d been before and remember more about her past. The notion gave her renewed hope, warming her up some.
She glanced at the fourth wall. A door opened into another room. A bathroom? Private, just for her? She hoped so. Sharing a bathroom with all the other agents didn’t appeal.
Before she contemplated moving from the bed, the door to the living area opened. Allan stepped into the room, wearing a red hibiscus floral shirt, denim shorts and brown leather sandals. He carried a glass of orange juice and looked good enough to eat as his mouth turned up into a sexy smile. “Good morning, sunshine.”
She smiled back at him. “You sure know how to make me feel good.”
He closed the door behind him, then crossed the floor and handed her a glass of juice. “Did you get enough sleep?”
