by Rebecca York
Her eyes widened. “Gage?”
He shifted on the couch, pressing his palms against the cushions, but he continued to stare intently at her. Then she sensed unseen fingers moving from her hair to her cheek.
In response, she leaned her head to the side, returning the pressure, her gaze never leaving Gage’s face.
The tactile communication was very strange and very unique, yet at this moment it felt so right. She’d felt a strain between them since they’d left the campground. Now her husband was reaching out to her in a way that nobody had ever experienced before.
She opened her mouth to puff out a breath, and the touch shifted to her lips, tracing their shape, then lining the inner edge.
“How are you doing that?” she whispered, even when she really knew the answer.
“With my mind. I’ve been practicing to see what kinds of things I can do and feel. I’m getting more control over my power.”
“Oh.”
She saw a wicked look cross his features just before he shifted the focus of his attention and the way he was touching her. He’d been using unseen fingers to caress her. Suddenly she felt the stroke of his tongue against hers. In response, a thrill of sexual arousal shivered through her. Swaying on her feet, she reached back and steadied herself against the back of the recliner that was angled toward the television.
The intensity of Gage’s gaze stunned her. “What does it feel like to you?” she managed to ask.
He gave her a look that melted her bones. “Like I’m kissing you. Deeply, hotly,” he answered, his voice thick.
She tried to take that in, then abandoned the intellectual exercise when the front of her shirt stirred. Her gaze shot to him, and she saw that his face had taken on a look of concentration. When she glanced down, she saw the top button of her shirt slide slowly open.
The next button followed and the next, until the shirt was completely undone. Then, as though he were standing right in front of her, he brushed the sides of the shirt slowly back, dragging the fabric against her skin as they moved.
She hadn’t bothered to put on a bra, so the action bared her breasts to Gage’s view.
She saw him swallow hard, saw his hands press more tightly against the sofa cushions as he stared at her.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “And so soft, so sexy.”
She felt unseen hands cup her breasts, lifting and cradling them as though he held them in his palms.
The breath rushed out of her lungs. Then she felt that his thumbs were making a circuit around each of her nipples, drawing that contracted smaller and smaller circles until they stroked against the sides of the raised centers.
Gage gained confidence in this new seduction method every moment he continued. Skillfully, he plucked at the distended tips, and she couldn’t hold back a moan as unbearable arousal fired her blood.
He was still across the room, and he was making her so hot that she could barely breathe.
Her gaze locked with Gage’s as the shirt slicked back off her shoulders, holding her arms captive.
The arousal on his face took her breath away. He looked as though he wanted to eat her alive.
As she stood there with the top of her body exposed to his view, the zipper at the front of her shorts lowered, and the shorts pushed down her legs, along with the panties she’d purchased at the department store.
All her hidden, feminine places were totally exposed now. Her shorts trapped her feet and her shirt bound her arms. Gage held her captive as effectively as if he’d lassoed her arms and feet. Only he hadn’t used a rope. He’d done it totally with his mind.
“I think you have me at an unfair advantage,” she managed.
“Yeah.”
When he stood up, she felt a surge of heat as she saw the erection straining at the front of his jeans.
When she swayed on her feet, he quickly rounded the coffee table and gathered her into his arms.
He had turned her on almost beyond endurance without any real physical contact. Now he lowered his head to hers, devouring her mouth in a hot, urgent kiss, the hair of his new beard scraping her face. As he pulled her into his arms, she felt his erection wedged between them.
When the kiss broke, they were both gasping for air. She struggled to speak. “My arms. Get the sleeves off my arms.”
His hands and perhaps his mind, too, tore at the sleeves, and when he freed her, she immediately reached for the snap at the front of his jeans.
He had undressed her from afar, but she had no such talents.
Still it took only seconds to lower his zipper and free him from his jeans. They both made a sound of satisfaction as she took him in her hand.
When she had kicked away her shorts, he rid himself of his remaining clothing, and they fell together to the rug. He gathered her to him, rocking with her in a fury of need. He ended up on top of her, and she opened her legs, reaching to guide him inside her.
He plunged home, wringing a glad cry from her. And they both began to move, urgency driving them.
The intensity was too great to last. She climaxed in a roiling explosion of ecstasy, then felt him follow her over the edge.
They ended in a sweaty tangle on the rug, both breathing hard.
“Don’t leave me again,” she gasped.
He raised his head and looked down at her. “I thought you had left me.”
“I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
She reached for him again, her arms locking around his back. She’d told herself she had to be strong, but suddenly it was impossible to hold herself together. When she started to cry, he stroked her hair the way he’d done from across the room.
She struggled to get control of herself, because they were in too much danger for her to fall to pieces.
“I’m okay,” she managed.
“This is more than anyone should have to endure.”
“We can do it. Together.”
“I hope so.”
She allowed herself a few more moments in his arms, then raised her head. “I got the computer,” she said, because she felt that they needed to start doing something positive to prove they were innocent.
“Good.”
“You want me to fix breakfast or lunch?” she asked.
“Lunch.”
He eased away from her, and she watched him collect his clothing before exiting the house.
RAND MCCLELLAN looked up as one of the task-force men stepped into the squad room.
“I suppose you don’t have any word on Darnell?” he asked.
The man shook his head. “Sorry. I know you’re anxious to find him. But I think he’s long gone from the area. I would be, if I were wanted for two murders. We’ve got the highway patrol and the local cops looking for him in all nearby states. And we’ve got men at BWI and Reagan National.”
Rand sighed. Somehow he didn’t think that was going to be enough. Darnell was a tricky bastard to have eluded capture this long. It made sense for him to have long since cleared out of the area. But what if he was sticking around because that was exactly what he wouldn’t be expected to do?”
“Just in case, we’re checking local motels,” the officer said.
Rand nodded while he pondered Gage Darnell’s options, trying to duplicate the man’s thinking. Motels were too obvious for a guy who had been camping out with a fair amount of expensive equipment. Where had he gotten the money for that? And what was he going to try next?
An idea struck Rand, and for the first time since Richard’s death, he felt a surge of optimism.
“I’d like a list of rental properties available in the area.”
WHILE GAGE started setting up the computer in one of the spare bedrooms, Lily put the potatoes into the oven. When they were almost done, she started the steaks.
Gage came into the kitchen when they had been broiling for several minutes.
“That smells wonderful. I’m starved.” He gave her a wicked look. “Nothing like hot sex to spur the appetite.”
“I’ll set the table.” He opened drawers, finding cutlery, and she watched him, thinking how wonderful this simple afternoon was. They’d been apart for months, and now they were living like man and wife again. It felt very real—and very precious because she knew that it could all be snatched away from them so easily.
Turning quickly, she clamped her teeth together, ordering herself not to start crying again. By the time the steak was finished broiling, she had herself under control.
Normal. Act normal.
“So what does that look on your face mean?” he asked as they sat across from each other.
“I was thinking how strange this situation is. We’re sitting down to lunch like a regular couple on a Saturday afternoon. But you have a beard and need a haircut. I’ve got a haircut and a dye job,” she said, trying to keep it light.
“And the police could come busting through the door,” he added.
“Let’s not spoil the mood.”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
He cut a piece of steak. She did too, chewing and swallowing before asking, “So what are you planning to do with the computer?”
“Well, I tried to break into Cranesbrook in person,” he answered in a conversational tone. “And it didn’t work.”
She almost choked on the piece of meat she was eating. “What happened?”
“I couldn’t get in. They’d increased the security. They’ve got something to hide, and I want to find out what it is.”
She wondered if it had been as cut and dried as that, or if he’d had another harrowing escape. Probably to keep her from asking for details, he started speaking again.
“So I’m going to try and hack into their system.”
“Have you had any experience with that?”
He looked slightly embarrassed. “As a teenager, I got into trouble for hacking into the school computer.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I altered my grade in a computer class. The teacher gave me a B and I wanted to prove that I should have gotten an A.”
“Did it work?”
“Mr. Westhaver was mad as hell. So I guess not.”
“Did you do other hacking?”
“It’s better if you don’t know.”
She struggled to repress the grin playing around her lips. “Well, it sounds like you have the skills to tackle Cranesbrook. What are you looking for exactly?”
He made an exasperated sound. “I wish I knew. I was working at the damn place for months, and I didn’t know anything strange was going on in the lab. For starters, I’d like to know about the chemical I was exposed to. Was it an official project or something a scientist was cooking up on his own?”
While she had him talking, she figured she didn’t have anything to lose by asking some more questions.
“When we left the campground, you had a bunch of equipment with you.”
“Yeah.”
“What is all that?”
“I’ve been designing some specialized security devices. Stuff that works without hard wires, like a wireless computer network. That’s how I knew when you showed up and where you were. The same with the police. The whole system is tied into a portable GPS device.”
“And that got ruined in the water?”
“Yeah, but I had another one in the case with my equipment.”
She’d gotten him distracted from their primary problem, and she was glad to see the old Gage enthusiastically telling her about the inventions that he was perfecting. Not just an alarm system, but miniaturized transmission equipment.
She didn’t understand the technical details, but she loved watching his face as he talked about his work. For months he’d been keeping his intellectual life to himself. Now she was feeling more like his marriage partner again.
After lunch, Gage started to help her clean up the kitchen, but she knew he was anxious to get back to the computer.
“You go back to work,” she told him. “The sooner you get into the Cranesbrook computers, the better.”
He disappeared into the bedroom again.
At first, she heard curses drifting down the hall, and she figured it was better to give him some space.
When she didn’t hear anything from Gage for over an hour, she finally popped her head in the door.
He was leaning intently toward the computer screen, reading a spreadsheet.
“You found something?” she asked.
He looked disgusted. “Not much. But I do know the work in Lab 7 is something called Project Cypress.”
“What is it?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe someone wasn’t using correct safety procedures and a dangerous chemical was released in the explosion. And now that someone is trying to cover it up by making sure I can’t talk about what happened.”
“Or maybe the program is screwed up, and they’re looking for a way to explain why it got off track. An explosion in the lab would do the trick. You just rushed in at the wrong time.”
“Unfortunately, those theories still leave a lot of loose ends. Like, for example, the explosion came from the closet. Which makes it sound like someone was storing dangerous chemicals improperly.”
“Unless the accident was deliberate.”
He grimaced. “Yeah.”
She sat down in the chair in the corner, watching him work. An hour later, he sighed. “It looks like they just didn’t leave a paper trail.”
“But you were a witness. Which makes you a big problem to them. If you’re on the loose, you can testify about what happened.”
When Gage bent to the computer again, she leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. Gage had uncovered some interesting information, but it wasn’t going to prove he hadn’t murdered anyone.
That was going to take getting back into Cranesbrook, and she began working out a plan for how they were going to do it, although she was pretty sure Gage wasn’t going to fall in line with her ideas.
“We have to figure out the most likely person to have ordered you confined to that mental hospital where you couldn’t talk to anyone,” she said.
“It could be Nelson Ulrich, but I’m putting my money on Sid Edmonston.”
“Why?”
“He came down here from their facility in New Jersey just before the lab accident, and he’s stayed down here—to keep tabs on the manhunt, among other things. When I run into barriers in the computer files, they seem to be coming from his office. Also, he’s got the money to hire Dr. Morton to keep me and Vanderhoven under wraps.” Gage waved his arm in exasperation. “But he could be working with Bray for all I know!”
She took her lower lip between her teeth. Bray and Gage had been more than partners. In the Special Forces, they had put their lives in each other’s hands. “Is that what you really think?” she asked in a barely audible voice.
He pressed his lips together, then answered. “I don’t know. If Bray isn’t in on this, why is he missing?”
“We have to get Edmonston to talk.”
“Oh, sure.”
“I have an idea.”
He gave her a long look. “I don’t like the sound of that. You’re thinking about something dangerous.”
“Tell me about your covert transmission equipment.”
He shifted in his seat. “Tell me what you have in mind.”
“You first,” she insisted. “Is it operational?”
She could see him making mental evaluations.
“Almost. Why do you want to know?”
“Maybe we’d better start conducting some tests to see.”
He tipped his head to one side, looking at her. “I sense a bout of the famous Lily Darnell creativity coming on.”
Despite the circumstances, she grinned. “Yeah, you do.”
Chapter Fourteen
Tossing and turning in his bed, Rand McClellan tried to escape the dream. But he couldn’t get away.
Sweat broke out on his brow. He and Richard had thought they were so clever. They’d tracked Gage Darnell to a beach house and taken up positions near the front and back doors. Then everything went wrong. When they called out to Darnell that he was surrounded, he came out shooting, an automatic weapon in each hand.
Then the scene switched and they were in the woods, back at the campground, and Gage Darnell was chasing them. Now, somehow, he had two guns in each hand, and he kept firing like the mechanical monster from The Terminator.
Rand knew in his gut that everything was going wrong. He and Richard had somehow lost their weapons. They couldn’t return fire. All they could do was run for their lives with the monster pounding behind them, getting closer and closer.
He knew what was going to happen. Richard was going to die. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Then he’d be next.
The son of a bitch would get him, too.
He moaned, trying to make it come out differently.
“Wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”
The voice shocked him out of slumber. But not out of the nightmare.
Someone was in the bedroom. And the voice grated along his nerve endings.
For a moment longer, he feigned sleep, then opened his eyes and whipped toward the drawer of the bedside table.
The voice that had awakened him stopped him in mid reach. “Don’t do anything stupid like pulling out that gun. You don’t want to end up dead. If I kill you, I’ll never get a chance to prove my innocence.”
Rand flopped back against the wrinkled pillows and stared up at the figure looming over his bed. It was Gage Darnell.
He’d considered the possibility that Darnell would come after him, and he’d made sure the doors and windows were securely locked and the alarm had been set.
“How did you get in here?”
Darnell stood very still in a shaft of light coming from the hallway, making it impossible to see his face. “I’m a hardened criminal. I have my ways.”
“Right. A hardened criminal. You killed Richard. Now you’ve come to kill me.”
