Deadly Sight

by Cindy Dees

  “Well, I’m not sure exactly how I’m going to get my pajamas off, but I thought I’d leave that to you.”

  He grinned up at her. “I’ve got it handled.” He hooked his hands inside her flannel sheep jammies and eased them down over her bandage. Once they were bunched down around her thighs, it was an easy matter to push them the rest of the way off. Her tank top was a breeze to lift over her head.

  His hands connected with satin flesh, and he sighed in pleasure. The curves of her body were quintessentially female, and he savored the luscious shape of her derriere. Her breath caught in the back of her throat, and he wished he could see her face more clearly. As it was, her eyes practically glowed in the dark as she stared down at him, their yellow-gold catching the faint streetlight from outside and reflecting it back at him.

  “I’m sorry about the other night,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean it.”

  “Which part?”

  “The part where I threw you out of my bed. I’ve never wanted anyone to stay as badly as I wanted you to stay then.”

  “Then why—”

  “You scare the hell out of me!” he blurted.

  She made a sound that vaguely resembled a laugh. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

  “I scare you?” he asked in dismay.

  She went still, straddling his hips, and stared down at him thoughtfully. She nodded slowly. “You scare me worse than anyone I’ve ever known.”

  In the context of the bastards and outright psychos she’d spent much of her life with, that wasn’t much of an endorsement. Disappointment rolled through him. Had he really blown it with her that badly? He lifted his hands carefully away from her thighs. “I’m sorry, Sam. I didn’t mean to frighten you—”

  She cut him off quickly. “I’m not frightened of you in that way. I know you’d never, ever lay a hand on me.” She amended hastily, “At least not with intent to do harm.”

  “How do I scare you, then?”

  “You’re...the real thing.”

  He snorted. He was a complete fraud. He might act like a walking, talking, living man, but he was nothing more than a hollow shell going through the motions of living.

  Sam was talking again. “...could see myself with you for a long time...be happy, even...never thought I’d find someone like you...decent...kind...”

  “Aww, honey. I’m not the right guy for you. You deserve someone with a heart as big and open as yours. Someone who makes you laugh. I always seem to put you on the verge of tears.”

  “Yeah, but that’s because of—” She broke off.

  He started to ask her because of what, but she leaned down quickly and silenced the question by kissing him. Or more accurately, by practically having carnal knowledge of his mouth. Her lips were full and soft, her teeth even and sharp, her tongue as quick as a mink and terribly clever. He’d never known kissing could be such a frankly sexual thing. He groaned his pleasure and surrendered without bothering to put up a fight. He’d lose, anyway.

  But he had to admit, surrender had never felt so good. Her hands roamed over his body, and she made little sounds of approval that drove him crazy. He returned the favor carefully, dragging his fingertips over her skin lightly. The last thing he wanted to do tonight was hurt her.

  Funny how last time they’d made love he’d felt a compulsion to push her, to test her resolve. He realized now in a burst of shocked clarity he’d been trying subconsciously to drive her away and prove she didn’t really want him. But tonight, the exact opposite was true. He wanted to lure her to him, to draw her in, to seduce her. More to the point, he wanted her to love him just a little.

  “I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you,” he murmured.

  “So far, I’d say you’re doing pretty well.” She sighed against his neck where she was currently nibbling her way toward his ear and making him a little crazy.

  “You deserve so much more than me.”

  She propped herself up on his chest to stare down at him with those incredibly observant eyes of hers. “Yes, but I want you.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked quietly.

  “Let’s see. I’m naked and in bed with you—this after you rather rudely tossed me out of it a few days ago. I think about you every waking moment. I got shot and watched my car get blown up by a bomb, and yet I have no desire to leave this place if it means leaving you. Yes, I’d say I’m sure. I’m a goner.”

  “Ahh, baby. Now I really am sorry.”

  “Shut up and quit thinking so much. Just make love to me.”

  That, he could definitely do. Carefully. Treating her like a piece of hand-blown crystal and being mindful of her wound, he lay her down on the bed and proceeded to make love to her the way he should have the first time. With hands and mouth, heart and soul, he showed her everything he could not bring himself to say about what she meant to him.

  It was so easy to lose himself in her. To let go and feel alive again. To forget, even if just for a little while, all the reasons why it was wrong for him to be happy. Even when he lay with her cradled in his arms a long while later, both of them limp and sated, the feeling didn’t abate.

  “Ahh, Sam. You are a wonder.”

  “My, you’re black tonight, Mr. Kettle,” she murmured sleepily.

  A comfortable silence settled between them. It was the sound of peace.

  “I should move,” she sighed. “But I’m so comfy.”

  She was warm and relaxed and draped across his chest, and he didn’t want her anywhere else anytime soon. “Don’t move. Sleep. I’ll keep watch over you.”

  “My knight in shining armor.”

  He didn’t dispute her, even though he would steadfastly maintain he was no such hero if he were more awake.

  He thought she’d fallen asleep, but then she mumbled semiconsciously, “How do you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Keep going. After...you know.”

  Abruptly, he was quite a bit more alert. “After what?” he asked, careful to keep his voice sleepy and slow.

  “After losing your family.”

  His entire being went utterly still. She knew? She knew? Jeff Winston had given his solemn word he didn’t tell her. And she sure as hell didn’t know about it when she’d arrived in West Virginia—

  His train of thought jumped the tracks and leaped ahead. Her road trip to Charleston. She’d been a mess when she got back from that. And it had taken her an inordinately long time to pick up a few buckets of varnish. That had to be when she’d researched him on the internet. He’d seen what was available online, which meant she knew everything. It felt like she had just ripped all his clothes off in front of a crowd of people.

  Jaw clenched until it ached, he said, “I told you to leave my past alone.”

  Nope, not slow on the uptake, Sam. She popped upright beside him immediately. “Oww.” She clutched at her side, but at the moment, he didn’t give a damn if she had a knife sticking in it.

  “It wasn’t like I had any idea what I’d find,” she explained. “You were so freaking mysterious about your past. How was I not supposed to poke around a little? It’s what I do for a living. I’m so sorry for your loss—”

  “Stop,” he snapped, cutting her off. “I don’t want your pity.”

  “Why the heck not? Aren’t I allowed to feel sympathy for your tragedy?”

  “No! I don’t want your sympathy!” Unreasoning rage bubbled up inside him at her intrusion into the most private part of his life.

  “Fine,” she snapped back. “I’ll just give your wife and kids my sympathy, not only for dying horribly, but for having to put up with a jerk like you.” She threw back the covers and stormed—albeit gingerly—out of his room, naked.

  A tiny, detached corner of his mind noted that it really was a magnificent exit. It also noted that she might have a point. But then his anger flared again. He would have stayed where he was and nursed his outrage except he heard Sam’s voice coming from the kitchen. Foreboding that she was doing something e
xtreme drove him to his closet for jeans. He pulled a shirt over his head as he strode down the hall toward the kitchen.

  “—right now. I don’t care if Jeff’s been up for two days straight and just got to sleep. Wake him up,” Sam was saying forcefully.

  Gray barged into the kitchen and demanded, “What are you doing?”

  “My job,” she bit out.

  He was about to make a sarcastic comment about whether having sex with him was part of her job, when she spoke into the phone. “Jeff, it’s Sam. An intruder with military training broke into the house a little while ago. I’ve got a sketch of him. I’m going to fax it to you, and I need you guys to get me an ID right away.”

  There was a brief pause where Jeff no doubt reminded Sam that there were no fax machines in the NRQZ.

  She said fiercely, “I bet there’s one at the sheriff’s department. And if the right deputy’s on duty tonight, I’ll have no trouble getting him to send the sketch to you,” she said.

  Gray ground his molars together. That deputy had practically drooled on her shoes.

  His irritation was interrupted by her speaking again. “Proctor’s guys shot at me and blew up my car yesterday. It’s time to end this.”

  Funny how she left out the bit about being hit by a bullet. Didn’t want Jeff to pull her off the job, huh? He couldn’t wait to tell Jeff about her injury and get her yanked out of here.

  “What are you going to do?” Gray kibitzed at her. “March into Proctor’s compound and demand to know what he’s doing?”

  She covered the phone’s mouthpiece, her eyes glittering with yellow fury. She looked like a tiger about to eat him. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

  “That’s insane,” Gray hissed as she stuck a finger in her free ear and listened intently to whatever Jeff was saying.

  “Really?” she said with interest. “That gives me an idea. What are the odds you can send a field operations unit out this way, like now?” A pause. “Yes, fully armed. I think Proctor’s more dangerous than we thought.”

  ‚Gray’s jaw threatened to sag. What in the hell was she doing?

  She said, “Keep me up-to-date on the signal interruptions, eh? I think they may be more important than we’d realized.”

  She hung up the phone and brushed past him without speaking.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To pack.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m done here.”

  “You’re leaving West Virginia?” It was the very thing he’d been anticipating a minute ago, but something sharp and hot twisted in his gut at the reality of her leaving him.

  She sniffed. “You wish. No, I’m seeing this thing through.” She added with a hint of bitterness, “In spite of you.”

  He hated having to ask her what she had in mind, but he was specifically tasked with keeping an eye on her by the NSA. “What are you planning?”

  She spun to face him, grimaced as she gripped her side, but did not utter a sound. “I’m sneaking into Proctor’s compound and having a look down that tunnel he’s dug.”

  “You’ll never make it. Hell, no one can move within a mile of that place without his guys swarming out like angry fire ants to chase off the intruder.”

  “And how is it he always seems to know when someone’s nearby?” she demanded. “I know he doesn’t have on-the-ground sensing devices in that valley. I spot stuff like that in my sleep.”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Well, I do. There’s a leak inside your precious NSA. Someone’s feeding the guy satellite telemetry. I’d bet my next paycheck the NSA has a camera pointed down at the NRQZ all the time.”

  He knew not to take that bet. But...a leak? “NSA employees are thoroughly vetted out before and after they’re hired. The odds of Proctor slipping one of his followers past one of our background checks are pretty slim.”

  “He doesn’t have to slip a human past you. All he has to do is find the right wire and tap into the signal. The U.S. government just had to shut down a major satellite surveillance facility because the contractors who built it installed a second, shadow wiring system and were bleeding off satellite signals and selling them on the black market. Same thing could’ve happened here.”

  His stomach dropped heavily. Was she right? Had his agency been compromised?

  “Heck,” she continued, “after H.O.T. Watch got shut down, I’ll bet there’s been a giant scramble to find an alternate source of satellite intel by bad guys around the world.”

  “That’s not the kind of signals intelligence Shady Grove collects, Sam. They pick up phone calls here.”

  “Agreed. That’s why we have to have a look in that tunnel and find out what Proctor’s really doing.”

  “If the guy is getting leaked telemetry, how do you propose to get into his tunnel?”

  “Have your people turn off the satellites watching Shady Grove.”

  “You seriously think I have that kind of power?”

  She gave him a considering look. “Yes. I do.”

  He just shook his head.

  “Make the call, Gray. Buy us a window of time to get in there and have a look around.”

  “I’m a trained field operative. You’re not. I’ll go in. But I’m not taking you with me.”

  Infuriatingly, she shrugged. “Fine. I’ll go in on my own. I’m confident Jeff and his grandfather have the clout to get the satellite turned off for a little while. I’ll just ask Leland to call the president—”

  “I’ll make the damned call.” He couldn’t begin to imagine the mess that would roll downhill and land on his head if the Winstons involved the White House in this investigation. “But you’re still not going in with me.”

  “Like I said. I’ll just go in on my own.”

  He huffed in exasperation. “Sam. You’re hurt. You can’t do it.”

  “I’m betting it’ll take you a few days to make the arrangements, and I heal fast. I’ll be ready to go.”

  “No.”

  “I’m not asking for your opinion or your permission, Gray. I’m going in and that’s that.”

  “But you don’t even like danger!”

  “I’ll do what’s necessary. This investigation needs to end so I can get away from you and quit hurting you.”

  Her declaration stopped him cold. She thought she was the one hurting him? He was the one who kept lashing out at her in his pain and grief. Not that he wasn’t still furious that she’d poked into his past without asking him first. And not that his saying no would have stopped her.

  His thoughts derailed. Truth be told, nothing would have stopped her. She was a researcher for a living. Did he seriously think she wouldn’t eventually want to know what made him such a head case? He’d been deluding himself to think he could keep his past a secret from her. What had Jeff Winston been thinking to send someone like her to help him? Sure, her eyesight had been enormously helpful, but Jeff had to know she would ultimately pry into his personal—

  Of course. That was exactly why Jeff had sent her. Mentally, he called his old fraternity brother every foul name he could think of. Gray tried to stay angry at Jeff, but enough of him could understand Jeff’s impulse to help that he couldn’t work up a real head of steam against the guy. Jeff should’ve stayed out of it. Left well enough alone. Gray had been doing fine without his frat brother’s interference. Or Sam’s.

  He walked down the hall to her bedroom, which was already a tornado of half-packed clothes. The woman didn’t waste any time once she’d made up her mind. “Don’t go, Sam.”

  He couldn’t believe he was saying it, but the words had unquestionably come out of his mouth.

  “Why shouldn’t I?” she asked tersely.

  No doubt she was hoping for an apology and a declaration of how much he cared for her and couldn’t live without her. His jaw tight, he answered, “Because Miss Maddie will ask questions and start all kinds of rumors. And given how closely Proctor’s scrutinizing us, it could tip him off that w
e’re heading for the endgame.”

  “Right. The mission,” she replied bitterly.

  As he’d thought. She’d been hoping for the whole I-can’t-live-without-you speech. He was assailed by the same feeling he got when perched on the edge of a cliff. One part of him wanted to back away very carefully. But a tiny part of him was tempted to take one more step forward. To leap off the cliff and see what it felt like to fly, even if only for a few seconds.

  His old friend and comfort, Suicide, wasn’t getting the job done this time around. Somehow, it seemed like an empty gesture now. Dammit, Sam had ruined even that for him. How was he supposed to go on without the safety net that the prospect of killing himself provided? If he did it her way, he would have to live with the pain. Live with the grief. Hell, how was he supposed to find a way to go on? Sam made it sound so damned easy. But he knew—he knew—it wasn’t easy at all. Yet, she seemed to believe he was capable of it. Was she right? Was he strong enough, after all?

  He backed away from the cliff in more haste than grace and headed back toward the kitchen. She wanted this thing over? So be it. He picked up the phone with grim determination and dialed a number from memory that would set the wheels in motion. One way or another, he’d either be dead or rid of Sam in a few days. He’d never have to face her and the things she made him feel again.

  Chapter 15

  Sam was losing her mind. Being in the same house with Gray, who’d become a total stranger to her overnight, was killing her. The revelation that she’d found out about his family’s murder had completely shut him down emotionally. She didn’t have the faintest idea how to scale the walls of the fortress he’d thrown up around himself. Finally, in desperation, she called her boss.

  “Jeff, I have a confession to make. Gray’s in bad shape, and it’s my fault.”

  “Did you poke into his past?” Jeff asked immediately, startling her mightily.

  “Uhh, yes. I did.”

  “Excellent. I knew you would.”

  “But you ordered me not to!”

  “Sam, I’ve worked with you for a long time. What’s the one way to be absolutely sure you’ll tackle a problem with everything you’ve got?” She mumbled something inaudible as he answered his own question. “Tell you something can’t be done. If I told you in no uncertain terms to leave alone something that had to be killing you with curiosity, there was no way you’d follow that order. You’d run in the opposite direction as fast as you could. And you did. Good girl.”