Operation: Midnight Tango

by Linda Castillo

  “You don’t even know where he is.”

  “I don’t have to know because we both know he’ll come to me. I’m the one he wants. I killed his son. Don’t tell me that’s not the best way to smoke the rat out of his hole.”

  “You going to do that all by yourself, huh?”

  “I can and you know it.”

  Bo shot her a dark look. “You’re acting like some hotheaded rookie.”

  “I’m acting like an agent who refuses to be intimidated and knows how to get the job done.”

  His expression exuded anger when he moved closer. His mouth went taut when he set his hands on her shoulders and gave her a shake. “Don’t get crazy on me, Rachael. I know you want him. So do I. But we can’t do this on our own. Don’t give him the chance to take another life.”

  Her anger boiled over. “My life means nothing as long as he’s alive.”

  “You’re blinded by revenge.”

  “He killed my husband!” she shouted, pulling away.

  “Mike died because he made a mistake.”

  “Karas is indirectly responsible. He pulled out all the stops. He tortured agents for information that blew Mike’s cover. How much more damage are we going to let him do before we stop playing by the rules?”

  Only then did she realize she was crying. She hated the display of weakness. Credibility and competence were important to her. Yet here she was, choking back sobs like some teenager who hadn’t gotten her way.

  “Those rules are what separates us from men like Karas,” Bo said. “Don’t let him blur those lines for you, Rachael. You’re above that.”

  “No, I’m not.” Frustrated with herself, she choked back a sob and wiped frantically at the tears. “It’s what we do at the MIDNIGHT Agency, Bo. We blur lines. We cross lines. We do it because we know sometimes that’s what it takes to win.”

  “Not like this.”

  “He’s winning, damn it.”

  He started toward her. Rachael knew what would happen next, and she dreaded it with every fiber of her heart. But there was a small treacherous part of her that at that moment wanted Bo to touch her.

  “Don’t,” she said.

  “Too late.”

  His arms went around her. She resisted the pull to him. Her body went rigid. She shoved against his chest. But he was like a stone wall against her, solid and strong and impenetrable. But the heady sensation of his arms going around her tore down her resistance piece by ragged piece. Pleasure teased her senses. His scent filled her nostrils, titillated her brain.

  “Easy,” he said.

  Rachael sank into the solid warmth of him. She absorbed his essence like dry earth absorbing rain after a long and killing draught.

  The emotional dam broke with a surge she hadn’t experienced since the night Sean Cutter knocked on her door in the middle of the night and told her Michael was dead.

  Setting her head on Bo’s shoulder, she cried openly. She cried so hard her body shook with the power of it. All the while, he held her. He stroked her, murmuring gentle words. The same way he’d calmed the young horse the other day.

  “It’s going to be all right,” he whispered. “I know it doesn’t seem that way at the moment. But I promise you’ll get through this. We’ll get Karas. But not tonight.”

  Pulling back slightly, she looked into his eyes. “How many more people have to die before that happens?”

  “I can’t answer that because I don’t know. All I can tell you is that you’re safe here with me. Once the agency is up and running, they’ll go after him no-holds-barred.”

  “I wanted to be the one,” she choked.

  “You did your part. You did everything you could. Now it’s time for you to step aside and let someone else continue on with your work.”

  Embarrassed by her outburst, she wiped at the tears on her cheeks with the sleeve of her jacket. “I’m not very good at stepping aside.”

  “Now there’s a revelation.” Setting his fingers against her cheek, he wiped at a tear with his thumb. “Don’t cry.”

  “I’ve been telling myself that for the last couple of minutes and it’s not working.”

  He smiled. “You had a lot bottled up inside you.”

  “I’m a sore loser.”

  “We haven’t lost this yet.”

  He was looking at her intently. His body was flush against hers. Surprise and something akin to alarm went through her when she realized he was shaking. And for the first time she realized the mo ment had become intimate. That she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

  She knew he was going to kiss her an instant before he moved. A keen sense of self-preservation ordered her to stop him. She was feeling vulnerable and damningly needy—not a good state of mind in which to be partaking in something as dangerous as a kiss from Bo Ruskin. But the part of her that was a woman first—a woman who’d been alone for a very long time—didn’t want to stop what she knew would happen next.

  His mouth came down on hers with the awesome power of a thunderstorm, pounding rain onto a parched ground. Rachael soaked in the quick shock of pleasure. She closed her eyes against the quick slice of heat when his tongue slid between her lips and went deep.

  His body moved against hers. She got the impression of a hard as granite chest. Powerful arms that trembled with restraint. Chiseled lips that knew how to tear down a woman’s resistance.

  Two years of loneliness and pain and self-denial rose in a dangerous tide. Every nerve in her body went taut. Physical yearning warred with the more intellectual need to stop the madness. But all she could think of was one more kiss….

  Cupping the back of her head, he deepened the kiss. It was raw and primal and seemed to suck the breath right out of her lungs. She could feel her heart laboring beneath her ribs. Her blood roared like a freight train in her ears. Growling, he moved against her. The steel rod of his erection nudged her belly.

  “I know it’s wrong, but I want you,” he whispered.

  “I’ve always had problems with rules.”

  Pulling back just enough to make eye contact, he smiled. But the moment of levity was short-lived. She saw stark need in his eyes. The knowledge that they were about to cross a line that couldn’t be traversed a second time.

  Rachael didn’t care. She kissed him back with a recklessness that shocked her. His hands went to her breasts. A shudder rippled through her when he brushed his hands over the fabric. Her breasts grew heavy and full. Her nipples ached with the need for the warm wetness of his mouth.

  He opened her jacket with trembling hands and lifted her sweatshirt. A clever flick of his wrist and the front closer of her bra opened. He dipped his head and took her nipple into his mouth.

  Her control broke with the violence of a chain snapping under tremendous pressure. Throwing her head back, she went wild in his arms. Her body writhed against his. An urgency she’d never felt before burned her, like a fire had been ignited somewhere deep inside her and only Bo’s touch could douse it.

  “Easy,” he whispered.

  But Rachael was beyond comprehension. Beyond speech. And far beyond thinking. At the mo ment, all she could do was soak in the pleasure Bo was giving her.

  Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her to the blanket near the heater. Kneeling, he laid her down. Rachael caught a glimpse of his eyes. Intensity burned within the depths of his gaze. No man had ever looked at her that way. As if she were the only woman in the world and this was their last moment together. An instant of pain pierced her heart when it struck her that not even Michael had looked at her like that. But the moment of cognizance was fleeting.

  Gently, he pushed her back, and came down on top of her. Her thought processes short-circuited when his mouth swooped down on hers. The rest of the world ceased to exist when he came full length against her. The power of the emotions churning inside her stunned her. She’d forgotten what it felt like to be held by a man. She knew she was vulnerable, still recovering from the loss of a man she’d planned to spend
the rest of her life with.

  But Bo Ruskin was warm and strong and alive. He was here and he wanted her. He represented life when, for the last two years, too much of Rachael’s life had evolved around death and a past that was lost.

  Somehow she managed to get her arms out of her jacket. Sitting up, Bo reached for the hem of her sweatshirt and drew it over her head. Cold air rushed over her sensitized breasts. Her nipples went hard. Her breasts ached. He reached for the band in her hair and slid it off. His eyes glittered when her hair cascaded to her neck.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said.

  The words embarrassed her; Rachael didn’t think she was beautiful. But he made her feel that way. For now, it was enough.

  He sat back on his heels and worked off his jacket. Feeling awkward, needing to do something, Rachael reached for the buttons on his shirt and was shocked to see her hands shaking violently.

  Noticing them, Bo took her hands into his. “You’re shaking.” He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss to her palm. “Your hands are cold.”

  “I have a really warm heart.”

  He ducked his head to make eye contact and smiled at her. “Are you okay with this?”

  She smiled back. “I’d be really disappointed if we stopped now.”

  Leaning close he brushed his mouth against hers. “I think I’d die right here and now.”

  “Coroner would have a hell of a time with the cause of death.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. She joined him and for a moment the sound of simple human joy filled the rooms of the old homestead.

  Rachael finished with the buttons on his shirt. Bo tossed it aside. She couldn’t stop looking at his chest. His pectoral muscles were rounded and covered with a thin layer of black hair that tapered to his navel and then disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. She didn’t even realize she was going to touch him until her fingertips brushed his skin. A tremor went through him when she ran her fingers over his nipples, taking in the rock hard feel of him. The muscles beneath her palms quivered with unleashed power.

  “I’ve wanted you to touch me like that for a long time,” he said in a tight voice.

  Suddenly overcome with emotion and the enormity of what they were about to do, Rachael surprised herself by blinking back tears. “This is the first time I’ve…I mean, since Michael…”

  “I know.” He kissed her then. Not with the wild abandon of before, but a gentle touching of mouths that assured her everything was going to be all right. For the first time in a long time, she believed it.

  He pulled away and his hands went to the button of her jeans. Rachael’s heart beat out of control when he unfastened them and gently shoved them down her hips until she wore only her panties.

  “Lie down,” he said.

  She lay down on the horse blanket. He covered her with the softer camping blanket. Desire pounded through her as she watched him remove his own jeans. Her body felt electric when he finally slid beneath the blanket beside her. His body was like warm, smooth stone against hers. She swept her fingers over his chest and abdomen and was surprised all over again when he trembled against her.

  “I’m not the only one shaking,” she whispered.

  He smiled at her, but his eyes were tense. “My secret’s out.”

  “What secret is that?”

  Moving quickly, he took her face between his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. “This is scaring the hell out of me. I’ve never felt this way before. Ever.”

  She wanted to tell him it was the same for her. But the power of the moment stole her voice. Took her breath away. But it was then she realized she didn’t have to say anything at all.

  He kissed her deeply. Rachael threw her head back and absorbed his kisses. She cried out when he entered her. His name burst from her lips when he brought her to climax. She could feel her body gripping his when he went rigid and spilled his seed into her.

  For the span of several seconds all she could do was absorb everything that had happened between them. The magic. The emotion. The physical sensation of being so close to another. Then he lowered his mouth to hers and the rest of the world faded away.

  Chapter Twelve

  Bo leaned his head against the leather seat of the saddle and listened to Rachael’s rhythmic breathing. They’d made love twice and then she’d fallen into a deep sleep, evidently brought on by total exhaustion. He was exhausted himself, if he wanted to be honest about it. But his mind was troubled, and he knew sleep would not come. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d done. The rightness of being with her warred with the wrongness of the secrets festering inside him. And it ate at his peace of mind, like acid at steel.

  This is the first time…since Michael…

  Her words rang uncomfortably in his head. He’d known she hadn’t moved on since losing Mike. The knowledge hadn’t been enough to keep him away. He couldn’t help but wonder how she would feel if she knew it had been his bullet that ended her husband’s life. That it hadn’t been an accident.

  Being with her like this was one of the most ero tic experiences of his life. Making love to her had touched him in places he’d long since forgotten even existed. She’d reminded him what it was like to be a man. What it was like to be a human being. She’d reminded him that life wasn’t just about pain and retribution, but joy and pleasure, too.

  He stared into the darkness, his mind and heart in turmoil, his body already wanting her again. He couldn’t believe he’d done the one thing he’d sworn he wouldn’t. She’d been vulnerable, in the process of healing. He hadn’t cared. He’d wanted her so much he’d been willing to sell his soul for just one night with her, and he hated himself for it.

  Sleeping with her wasn’t the worst of what he’d done. The worst of it was that he’d slept with her without first telling her the truth about what happened that night. He wasn’t sure he could handle looking into her eyes and seeing betrayal—or worse, seeing hatred. That wasn’t to say he didn’t deserve either of those things. Maybe he did. The only question that remained was what he was going to do about it.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were having second thoughts about what just happened.”

  He glanced at her just as she snuggled close and put her head on his shoulder. “I thought you were sleeping,” he said.

  “I was.”

  She was incredibly warm and soft against him. Despite his resolve not to dig this hole he was in any deeper, he put his arm around her and pulled her even closer.

  “Are you?” she asked.

  He didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to feel. The only thing he knew for certain was that he owed her the truth even if that truth was going to shatter what they had.

  “I’m…troubled.”

  “By what just happened?”

  “Not that,” he said. “Never that.”

  Looking concerned, she propped herself up on an elbow and looked into her eyes. “Then what?”

  He closed his eyes briefly, then turned to her and met her gaze. “What we just shared was one of the most incredible experiences of my life.”

  She smiled, but he saw the presence of nerves and knew he was the cause. “Me, too,” she admitted. “It’s been a while. I’m a little out of practice.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “But?”

  He took a deep breath, surprised when it wasn’t quite steady. “I haven’t been honest with you about something.”

  Her eyes went wary. “In what way?”

  “I know something about Mike that I haven’t told you,” he said. “Something that was never made public.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about what happened that night.”

  “I know what happened.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “You’re scaring me, Bo.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to. But…I need to tell you everything.” When she said nothing, just looked at hi
m with new caution in her eyes, he sighed. “Mike and I engineered the entire sting. We worked on it for months before putting everything into play that night.”

  “I know something went wrong. I know you and Michael were involved in a firefight. I know he got into the wrong position, into the line of fire—”

  “It didn’t happen the way you think. The way it’s written in the reports.”

  For the first time fear entered her expression. Fear because she knew he was about to throw something at her she wasn’t prepared to handle. “But—”

  Because he couldn’t prolong the inevitable any longer, Bo cut her off. “I have to preface by saying he was a good man, Rachael. A good agent. And I loved him like a brother.”

  He took a deep breath, but it didn’t keep his heart from pounding hard in his chest, his pulse from racing. “Mike wasn’t killed by friendly fire.”

  She blinked. “But that’s what I was told from the very beginning. Cutter and the reports stated as much.”

  Aching inside, he looked into her eyes. “It was me who fired the killing shot. And it wasn’t an acci dent, Rachael. I shot and killed him because he was working for Karas.”

  RACHAEL HEARD THE WORDS as if from a great distance, even though he was so close she could feel the heat of his body against the length of hers. But as the words sank into a brain that didn’t want to believe, warmth turned to ice.

  In one smooth motion, she sat up, taking the blanket with her and holding it to cover herself. Shock and disbelief and a thousand other emotions she couldn’t begin to name churned inside her. “I don’t believe you.”

  Bo held her gaze. “Mike turned on me that night, Rachael.”

  The words hit her with the violence of a boxer’s punch. Rachael felt herself recoil. Dread and a keen sense of betrayal dropped into her gut like a chunk of ice.

  “He wouldn’t,” she heard herself say. “Michael was loyal to the agency.”

  “I don’t know why or how he was being coerced, but he was working for Karas.”

  “No. You’re wrong. I would have known. Cutter would have told me, damn it.”