“Run faster!” he yelled.
“I’m running as fast as I can!” She glanced back to see the guard trying to catch up to them, but he was short and stocky and was losing ground.
Up and over the berm at the edge of the property, she ran down the other side with Jag. He let go of her hand and she scrambled to get into the rental. He peeled rubber racing away. Odie looked back and saw the guard with his hands on his hips, heaving breaths of air and watching them drive away. But she wasn’t foolish enough to think they were in the clear.
Chapter 9
Odie woke facedown on her pillow. One of her legs was outside the covers and her skin felt chilled. She lifted her head. “Ugh.” Rubbing her eyes, she rolled onto her back and propped herself up by her elbows, trying to blink the sleep from her eyes. She’d slept hard.
Jag came out of the bathroom in only his boxers. That woke her up. His ripped abdomen sloped to a white cotton waistband, the roomy material only hinting his treasures. His hair was still wet from his shower.
He bent over his bag, eyeing her with what she could only call annoyance. She frowned.
“It’s about time you woke up,” he said grumpily.
“What time is it?”
“Twelve-thirty.”
“Stop keeping me up every night then,” she said.
“That wasn’t all me.”
He sounded resentful, and he was alluding to their night together. What was the matter with him? They’d gotten along fine last night.
“What’s got you so grouchy this morning?” She flung the covers off her and got off the bed. She’d put on her sleeveless cotton Shrek pajamas before falling asleep. He watched her grab some clothes from her bag.
“It’s afternoon.” He glowered at her as he put on another pair of faded, holey jeans. “I’ve been awake for hours.”
She held some jeans and a blue button-down stretch shirt against her and faced him. “So?”
“So, your butt was sticking up the whole time and your legs were spread and one of them was outside the covers.” He extended his arm toward the bed as he spoke. Or yelled was more like it.
His body language screamed his frustration. She almost laughed. “You watched me sleep?”
“I had the TV on.”
She glanced at the television. It was playing so low she could barely hear it. He’d been careful not to wake her up, but watching her sleep had driven him mad.
“Poor baby.”
“I’m not in the mood for your mouth today.”
“Are you just bent out of shape because we had sex?”
He yanked on a golf shirt and didn’t respond.
“Why didn’t you wake me up and just take me?” He’d be in a better mood.
He scoffed as he straightened his shirt. “Unlike you, I’m not in denial over what happened.”
Denial? That threw her for a second. “Don’t make a big deal over it.” But inwardly she was afraid it was a big deal. She was afraid to put too much importance on it.
“Exactly what I mean.”
She stared at him. Did he think it was a big deal?
Uneasiness crept over her. She liked the idea of him feeling that way.
Her cell phone started ringing.
“Saved by the bell,” she quipped, dropping the clothes to answer it.
“Odie.”
It was Cullen. Her stomach flopped and she stopped breathing for a second.
“You’ll never guess who just called me,” he said.
She remained quiet, but sought out Jag with her eyes.
“What did I tell you about going to see him?” he demanded. She didn’t think she’d ever heard him so angry before.
“Not to go,” she answered. No point in making excuses.
“And what did you do?”
“I went.”
“Yes, and not only did you go see him, you brought Jag with you, which means you told him what I asked you not to.”
It did look bad. Really bad. But if they didn’t check out every lead, they might never expose who was behind all this. “Cullen, I’m sorry, but you have to try and understand—”
“The only thing I need to understand is you aren’t following orders. I got my ass chewed because of you.”
Odie held her silence. Roth had been angry they’d showed up, but she’d hoped his friendship with her father would have smoothed the edges enough.
Jag came to stand in front of her, watching her and listening.
“He’s pissed,” she mouthed.
“Did anyone see you go there?” Cullen asked, and Odie closed her eyes.
After a long hesitation, she didn’t have to reply.
Cullen swore three times and she heard a bang, as if he’d pounded his fist on his office desk.
“Who?” he growled.
Opening her eyes, she met Jag’s intent gaze. “A reporter. The same one who recorded you saying you wanted to marry Sabine after you rescued her from Afghanistan.”
That rendered Cullen speechless. She could only imagine what was going through his head.
“I can’t believe this,” he finally said, and the disappointment she heard broke her heart.
“Cullen.” She had to try to defuse him. “He doesn’t have anything to go on. We played it like we knew Frasier Darby because his brother was on Sage’s team when they were both killed, and the colonel was close to my father. Which is the truth,” she emphasized. “He thinks we’re looking into Frasier’s death.”
“He’s going to be watching you.”
“Then let him. He won’t find anything.”
Another long silence passed.
“After all the years we’ve worked together,” he finally said, “I thought I knew you, Odie. Now you pull something like this. I don’t even know what to say to you.”
“Put yourself in my shoes for a minute. My father was murdered and this is all connected. Hersch. Kate. Frasier. And whether you agree or not, Roth.”
When he didn’t respond she asked, “What would you have done?”
“I don’t know, but I do know I never would have betrayed you.”
The sting from that came at her in a giant wave. She never meant to betray him. “I’ll send you a report of everything we have so far…including the reason I came to D.C. without Jag.”
“It’s too late for that. You and Jag are both suspended until further notice.”
That hit her with a dagger-sharp blow. “What?”
“I’ll assign someone else to Hersch. If you want to investigate your father’s murder, do it on your own dime.”
She should have known he’d react like this. Maybe she did and it hadn’t mattered. She’d have gone no matter what. With or without Jag.
“That’s a little harsh,” she said.
“I don’t have a choice. If that reporter finds out you still work for me, TES is finished. Think about that.”
He was right. Some day the reporter might come to check on Cullen and find her working at his shop.
“All right. We’re suspended, but Hersch had something to do with my father’s murder, so don’t send anyone else to tail him.”
As Jag listened, he shifted his weight on his feet while his brow lowered ominously over his eyes.
“And I’m sending you a report whether you like it or not.”
“Fine. Arguing with you is always useless. Send the damn report, just don’t let that reporter get any closer than he already is. And don’t let him trace you here. That above all else, Odie. You follow me?”
“Yes.” She’d move hell to heaven trying, anyway.
After she disconnected, she looked up at Jag.
“Suspended? Really.” Sarcasm dripped from his tone.
“Roth called him.”
He sighed hard and shook his head in frustration.
She wondered if he was thinking this would never have happened had he not been attracted to her. Was she dragging him down a cesspool of her own creation?
“Jag…I’m
sorry.”
He met her eyes and she sensed his mood soften. “You didn’t force me to go with you.”
“No, but…”
“I wouldn’t have done anything differently, Odie. Too many people have been murdered because of this. It’s time to put an end to it.”
She wasn’t convinced. What about his reticence over being with her?
“And I wanted you to tell me about Roth.”
In his eyes she could see his meaning. Not only had she trusted him enough to tell him, she’d told him the truth. She was being straight with him now, and that had gained his respect. Her heart melted all over itself. He was on her side. All the way.
She threw her arms around him and kissed him. “Jag.”
The only thing he didn’t trust her with was his heart. Well, she didn’t trust herself with her own heart and right now she didn’t care.
He slid his hands around her back, scrunching up her Shrek pajamas. He pulled the hem up and put his hands on her hips, groaning when he discovered she hadn’t put on underwear.
Leaning back, she tugged his shirt up his chest. He lifted it over his head while she went for the button of his jeans.
He took the task over for her. “Take that girly nightshirt off.”
Smiling, she complied, lifting it over her head. Standing naked before him, she waited while he stared at her and finished removing his jeans. When he did, he still looked at her. She loved it, his passion, his appreciation. Stepping closer, he reached out and touched her breasts. His fingers felt like warm butter gliding over her sensitive skin. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back a little, basking in the glorious feelings he set afire. She didn’t move to touch him back, just let him take his time enjoying what he was doing. He moved closer. She felt the heat of his body, and the brush of his hardness on her belly.
His hands slid down to the curve of her waist. She watched him watch what he was doing, sliding over the curve of her hips to her butt, where he gently squeezed. Now his eyes met hers. She was fire for him. She put her hands on his muscular chest and slid them up until she looped her arms around his shoulders.
He kissed her, soft and slow.
Oh. This was beyond anything she’d experienced.
“What are we doing, Odie?” His breath warmed her lips and face.
She kissed him, not wanting this cloud of pleasure to fade. He kissed her back, harder now.
“What are we doing?” he asked again.
“Just make love with me, Jag. I don’t want to think about anything else.”
He pressed his lips to hers again.
“Just this.” She kissed him back.
Holding her around the waist, he stepped forward and she stepped back until she felt the edge of the bed. Scooting back on the mattress, she stretched her length on it, bending one arm over her head.
Jag looked at her for timeless seconds before kneeling on the mattress and coming down on top of her. He braced her head between his hands and kissed her again, deeper and more urgent now. She slid her hands down his back, feeling his muscles ripple with movement as he propped his weight up on his hands. She opened her legs and pulled him closer.
Her gaze locked with his as he found her and penetrated. Love swelled inside her as he pushed in all the way. His breathing went in tune with his movements. Back and forth. But it wasn’t enough.
“More,” she rasped.
He pushed harder. Still it wasn’t enough. She couldn’t get enough of him.
“Jag.”
With a growl he slammed harder, moving his hips in a grind. That sent her over the edge with a yell.
Rolling onto his back, he took her with him and lifted her. She straddled him, still reeling from sensation, and he guided her onto him. Her mind went numb. She put her hands on his chest and met his eyes while he thrust upward. She held herself above him and then met his rhythm. He groaned deep. She ground her hips against him and coherent thought once again took a spiraling nosedive.
When awareness finally returned, Odie leaned down and kissed Jag’s mouth. His eyes were lazy with satisfaction. She kissed him again, and then kissed the corner of his mouth when it curved in a soft smile.
Oh.
Her heart burgeoned with emotion she was too afraid to name. Sliding off him, she lay next to him. He held her sweetly. It so overwhelmed her that she closed her eyes.
“Stop it,” his deep voice said.
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re thinking too much.”
“Then you must be, too.”
After a few breaths, he said, “I am.”
Around dinnertime, the room phone rang.
Jag turned his head to see Odie, whose head was still cradled comfortably in the curve of his arm. She opened her eyes, a smile shining in them. He just about turned into a pile of love-struck mush at the feet of a beguiling woman. Except beguiling didn’t have the right ring for a woman like Odie. Demanding. Even in bed. But he’d satisfied her. Smiling back at her, he slid his arm free and sat up.
“I hope this doesn’t always happen,” she said.
He loved how she said things the way they were. This was the second time they’d been interrupted in bed.
The phone rang a third time and he reached over to pick it up. “Yeah.”
“It’s Calan Friese. I’m in the lobby. Meet me at The Cure in ten minutes.” And then he hung up.
Jag hung up the phone and turned to Odie. “Friese is in the lobby. He wants us to meet him at The Cure.”
Her eyes lost their dreamy slumber and she flung the covers off her. He got a magnificent sight of her beautiful backside as she went to her bag and dug out some clothes. He propped himself on one elbow and watched her profile, firm breasts jiggling as she hurried.
She caught him looking. “Get up.” She threw her underwear at him. It hit his face and fell to the mattress.
Taking it in his hand, he stood and went to her. Handing her the underwear, he leaned over her shoulder and kissed the corner of her mouth. She turned and slid her arms over his shoulder and kissed him fully.
“Careful, or we’ll be late.”
Laughing, she let him go and slipped on her underwear. Reluctantly, he dressed with her.
Jag took Odie’s hand as they entered the restaurant. High ceilings and oak and stone walls made it inviting. Tall oak stools lined a glass-topped bar.
Calan sat in a booth with a black-topped table near the entrance. Jag sat on the opposite bench first, and then Odie sat beside him.
“The police are looking for me,” Calan said, meeting Odie’s eyes in an accusatory way. Jag found that interesting. He sounded annoyed more than afraid—not worried that the police wanted to question him.
Odie didn’t seem to notice. “Maybe you deserve it.”
“Maybe I don’t,” he shot back. “Who have you been talking to?”
Odie didn’t respond.
“I know you’re the reason the cops are after me,” he said.
“It was you who told Dharr about Sage’s mission,” Odie said. She was more emotional than Jag was accustomed to seeing her. “Not my father.”
Calan went still and just looked at her.
“He knew something, didn’t he?” Odie charged. “And you didn’t want him to talk.”
“You have your facts wrong. It was your father who betrayed the mission to Dharr. You of all people should know that.”
“I don’t know anything of the sort.”
“You’re the one who buried key evidence. That email and the photo? This would have been over a long time ago if you hadn’t done that. Kate would still be alive, and so would Frasier.”
Kate must have told him about the email and photo.
“Kate believed in my father’s innocence as much as I did,” Odie said.
“Yes, and that’s what we fought about the night she was killed.”
“You mean the night you went driving?” Odie taunted.
“She refused to believe me
and she defended you for hiding clues to the truth.” Calan turned to Jag. “Edward Ferguson was dealing arms with Dharr, and Sage must have uncovered it. That’s why Edward told Dharr, so Dharr would be waiting to ambush the team.”
Calan believed Odie’s father was guilty because of the email and photo, yet Frasier’s letter suggested something entirely different. Which was true?
“How do you know about the mission?” Jag asked.
“I was there. I was after Dharr. By the time I finally caught up to him, he and his men were attacking the team. But he didn’t know I was there. Nobody did. Except for Sage. He’d already been hit so I dragged him away from the attack. Before he died, he said Dharr knew they’d be there and that it was Hersch who betrayed them. Hersch and someone else. He said there had to be someone else.”
“That’s a lie!” He’d spoken with Sage? He was there when he died? It was too much.
“Your father didn’t know I was there, either. I kept it that way so that I could do my own investigation.”
Odie scoffed. “You were working with Dharr. It wasn’t my father, it was you. You’re the one who killed Sage!”
“I didn’t kill anyone. Who told you that?”
She didn’t answer. It was her customary response. Never reveal a source. But in this case, it needed to be revealed.
“It was Senator Raybourne,” Jag said, earning a glare from Odie.
But he got what he was after. Calan’s reaction said it all. Few things shook Jag, but this stopped him short.
Calan breathed an incredulous exhale and leaned back against the booth seat, shaking his head. Jag waited for him to explain the revelations going through his head.
At last Calan looked at Jag. “Did he have proof?”
“Yes. A letter from Frasier Darby,” Odie said smugly.
The letter was pretty damning, but Jag had a feeling Calan would dispel most of his doubt by the end of this meeting.
“Who sent him the letter?”
Odie hesitated.
“Someone gave it to Darby’s wife to give to Raybourne,” Jag said for her. Luis hadn't known Frasier had gone to Roth, and Roth had told him and Odie the truth.
Calan grunted derisively. “He could have paid someone to deliver a forgery to her.”
“It wasn’t a forgery,” Odie said.
Special Ops Affair Page 13
