Damned If You Don't

by Linda J. Parisi

  “All I need is a direction, kitten.”

  She sighed. “He’ll find us.”

  Jack smiled. “I’m counting on it. Eventually.”

  “You might end up in jail too.”

  He gave her that patented grin of his again. “Not a chance. I’m the best at what I do. I’m going to save your, um, derriere whether you want me to or not.”

  “Why?”

  “I happen to like your derriere. Very tight. Round. Bitable—”

  “Not funny,” she spat at him in spite of the flare of heat in her veins.

  He shrugged. “Right now, we’re headed for Virginia Beach. I gave the driver two hundred and told him to take us as far south as he could. That’s probably about as far as he’ll go. So are you going to tell me, or do I guess?”

  Just to be bitchy, she said, “Guess.”

  “Really? Are you sure you want to play the game that way? I mean, I have a stake in this up to a point.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That I can decide to play along for a while because of Sam, or I can turn you in and let the authorities figure out the whole mess. Which I’m inclined to do right now, so don’t press your luck.”

  She thought about that for a moment. “What’s stopping you? Sam or me?”

  He didn’t answer. Which gave her a real warm and fuzzy inside.

  “Now back to question number one,” he continued. “I made the first step, you make the next. That’s how it works from now on, kitten.”

  She frowned, wishing he would stop calling her that, and then wishing he wouldn’t. God she was such a mess right now.

  “I really need to know what’s going on,” he insisted.

  Damn the man, he was throwing the ball back into her court. He wouldn’t be satisfied until she told him the truth. But if she did that, there’d be no going back.

  “If I do, you’re in this up to your eyeballs.”

  “I am already. Give.”

  Morgan sighed. He was such a bulldog. “It would be easier to show you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I need a computer.”

  He frowned. “I don’t have enough cash to buy one and that would be a waste of money anyway. A public library would have access plus that would give me a way to search for some wheels.”

  Morgan considered their dilemma. “I’ve got a better idea,” she said. “Most hotels have business centers. Less conspicuous.”

  She watched him lower the window. He told the driver to find the name of a national hotel chain, then closed the window again. “We’ve got another hour or so, why don’t you try to rest some more.”

  “Only if you tell me why you’re trying to be nice.”

  “Ouch! I guess I deserved that. You’ll have to let me know when I get out of the doghouse.”

  She gave him an evil smile. “You mean Chateau Bow-wow? It’s like Hotel California. Once you check in, you can never check out.”

  He grimaced. “I’ll remember that.”

  STARING AT HER was becoming a hard habit to break. And Jack knew that if he wasn’t careful, he wouldn’t just be teetering on the edge of a cliff. He would end up falling for her.

  Time to play the game his way. He was a master at seduction. He also knew how to do whatever he had to do to find the truth. Truth, justice, and the Andrew Jackson way.

  He turned his grimace into a deliberate smile, showing her he could be unfazed by her attitude.

  “What will you do when you can’t hate me anymore?”

  She sighed. She looked weary. They were both tired. “I don’t hate you, Jack.”

  “Good to know. But I’m being serious. BioClin feels they have every right to press charges. You work for them; the property is theirs. But you believe the work is yours. Did you sign a contract? Was there a nondisclosure agreement?”

  She gave him a long, pointed look. “Why are you asking?”

  “Just curious.”

  Of course he was lying, and they both knew that. He was more than curious.

  She answered after what felt like hours. “The nondisclosure agreement was in regards to leaking information to a competitor; it didn’t say anything about not letting anyone have it at all.”

  He sighed. She had a point. “So you’re basing your freedom and your career on semantics? Not a good idea.”

  “Sue me.”

  “Now there’s a thought I’m sure your employer has thought of.”

  “Too much bad publicity. They won’t.” She grinned, not a nice sight. “And you can stop the third degree. It won’t work. I’ll let you know when I’m damned good and ready.”

  That was great. Just wonderful. Because without answers, he was blind. With a sigh he said, “Get some sleep, kitten.”

  “Don’t call me kitten.”

  She settled back into the corner farthest away from him, which made him sad for a moment and then made him realize he was going to have to work harder. In order to get to the truth, since she wouldn’t answer him any other way, he was going to have to seduce her. Not an arduous task at all. Just dangerous.

  “What would you like me to call you, then?” he asked, trying hard to be patient. After all, they were both at fault.

  “Nothing. So stop being annoying.”

  Funny, but her anger only made him more determined than ever. Because if there was anything Jack hated, it was falling into someone else’s cesspool. But what really got to him was the thread of raw hurt underneath.

  “Who are you, Jackson Kent?”

  Obviously she didn’t realize she’d actually whispered the question out loud until she heard the words reverberate through the silence in the limousine.

  Jack reached out without realizing. A little too much too soon? To cover the action he answered, “A friend. More than a friend, I hope.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she cried in disbelief.

  He gave her a what-can-I-tell-you look. He hoped it would seem genuine. Most of it was. “It’s not just going to go away, you know.”

  “Touch me, and I’ll break your fingers.”

  Jack threw back his head and laughed. “Damn. I like you feisty.”

  “I don’t like you at all.”

  His chest shook with suppressed laughter. She was lying, and they both knew it. “By the way, just so you know. The driver thinks you’re cheating on your husband and that’s why the ride’s on the QT.”

  “You didn’t,” she whispered, her tone scandalized.

  He laughed out loud. “We really shouldn’t disappoint him, you know.”

  Shocked, she cried, “You’re nuts!”

  And yet, he watched her struggle to maintain her composure. Good. She sat up in the seat, trying her damnedest to look neutral, and stared out the window. “Where are we?”

  Obviously, she was trying to change the subject. “We should be arriving at our destination very soon.”

  Jack knew he was her best shot at survival. So did she. Yeah, he’d made a mistake. And yeah, he was going to pay for it. But so had she. Guess that made them even.

  He started laughing softly. He tilted his head to look at her. “Just for the record, it’s not going to go away.”

  “What’s not going to go away?”

  They both knew damned well. The reason she kept shifting in her seat and the same reason his pants felt like jail.

  “Whatever is between us.”

  The afternoon sun created a frame for her hair, sparking tiny flames around her head. So Jack turned up the heat. “Just feel. Live in the moment. You know you want to.”

  “Go to hell.”

  He let his gaze skim over her skin, making it hard for both of them to breathe, let alone think. “Let your hair down,” he insisted.

  “Never. Not after what you did to me.”

  “Broken record. Ditch the anger. You don’t need to hide behind it anymore.”

  He grinned, letting his gaze soften, letting her see in his marbled blue eyes that they weren’
t the only part of his body that swirled with heat.

  “Unlock the door,” he cajoled. “Feel. Just feel.”

  He watched her shiver in spite of her anger. She shifted in her seat again, and he knew he’d won the first battle. The spark between them was far from dead. But that also made him realize that playing with fire usually got a body burned.

  “And forget what happened a couple of hours ago?”

  He nodded. Her jaw clenched. She was fighting herself all the way. “You’re freaking crazy.”

  “Maybe. But I’ll never give up. You can bet your life on that.”

  As a matter of fact, I’m betting both our lives on it.

  Chapter Eight

  Sam Ormond sat at his desk fuming. Jack had vanished. Not without a trace but damned close to it. He had men canvassing the area for a rental car and had one stationed at the outlet mall to make sure Jack didn’t double back to get his car. He didn’t think Jack would be that stupid, but he might assume—

  Jack Kent wouldn’t assume anything.

  The sound of mortar fire rang inside his head, and he could feel the spray of sand biting into his skin as one exploded way too close to them. Sam remembered lifting his head and trying to see the direction the shells were coming from only to catch sight of Jack skirting a perimeter and lobbing a grenade before ducking behind a dune. One more tick and the entire squad would’ve been toast.

  Sam shrugged and turned off the memories.

  Instead, he went over his painfully thin dossier on Dr. Morgan Mackenzie one more time. She was a straight arrow. Not even one parking ticket. Spent most of her life, so far, in school or in a lab doing research.

  A real geek.

  Her mother and father, both older when she was born, were dead. Her mother from breast cancer, her father a few months later. No siblings. A couple of cousins but obviously not real close. When he’d contacted them, they said they hadn’t talked to her in years. Her parents had been professors at a small college in Connecticut, but Dr. Mackenzie had started her academic career at Boston College and finished her doctorate at Columbia University.

  You would think that going to school in two major cities would open up a lead or two.

  Not.

  She couldn’t be this clean. It was…boring.

  Sam threw the file on his desk and leaned back in his chair, raking his hands through his hair in frustration. It might not look like there was a crack in the wall, but there had to be one. There always was. And Sam knew he’d better find it. He was in this now up to his eyeballs with no way to turn back.

  All of a sudden, his cell phone buzzed on his desk. He snapped forward in his chair. “This had better be what I want to hear.”

  “It is, boss. It is. We checked every taxi and limo service just like you said. He paid a guy on the sly. Said he was with a married woman. Cash.”

  Sam’s heart started to pound. He took a deep breath, then let the air out slowly. “Where?”

  “Virginia Beach.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, sir. Very sure.”

  Sam didn’t respond right away. “Three hundred miles. All directions. Especially south.”

  “Sorry, sir. Why south?”

  “Because Jackson Kent is the best tracker I’ve ever known. And my first inclination is to double back and go north.”

  “But I don’t understand, sir. If you think he’s going to double back north, why don’t we concentrate our efforts to the north?”

  Sam smiled. “Because he’s also the most unpredictable son of a bitch on the face of the earth, that’s why. And you’d better hope that he doesn’t double back north, because that means he’s going to slip right past you.”

  “No he won’t, sir, you can count on me.”

  “Oh, I am, Mr. Anderson. I am. Because you know how I feel about failure.”

  “Yes, sir.” A thread of fear reverberated through the line, and Sam smiled.

  “Keep me posted.”

  “Will do.”

  Sam broke the connection. His next step would involve finding an ace in the hole. But for now, the information refreshed him. But he had another call to make. One that darkened his mood immediately.

  He punched in a number put the phone up to his ear with a frown. “Hello?”

  “We’re closing in.”

  “That’s what you told me yesterday. And the day before.” Sam heard the exasperation in his client’s tone and a slow burn began to simmer in his belly.

  “And I told you Jack Kent is the best there is,” he snapped back. “Now do you want to do this my way, or lose him altogether?”

  He listened to his benefactor sigh. “Good,” he continued. “Now what do you know about Dr. Mackenzie?”

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s going to run to a safety net, someone in her past. Someone you would know a whole lot easier than I would.”

  “Why would you assume that?”

  “Because she’s too clean and too boring not to.”

  Sam waited while his patron assessed the situation. “I’m not certain,” the voice on the other end of the line replied in a thoughtful tone. “But I’ll get back to you on it.”

  “The sooner the better,” Sam replied, his tone sour. “And you’d better make sure I see a deposit in my account by morning. This whole fiasco is costing me a fortune.”

  “Understood. As long as you do the same. I’m running out of patience.”

  The phone went dead, and Sam stared at it. His hand tightened around the plastic as the burn erupted. One of these days he was going to be able to stop taking orders.

  Until then he was going to have to settle.

  * * * *

  Morgan and Jack reached the hotel in Virginia Beach in the afternoon. As they approached the front desk, Morgan realized she was going to have to share a room with him. The thought must have occurred to them at the same time because he simply looked at her and smiled, daring her to request a second room. And while she wanted nothing more than a long hot soak, a seven, no eight, course meal, and a nine-hour nap, Jack, it seemed, had other ideas.

  “Do you want to rest?” he asked her, his tongue shoved deep into his cheek as he stared at the bed in the hotel room.

  Bastard. “No. I mean, yes.”

  He roared at her discomfort. “Well, I’m going to take a shower.” She didn’t answer. “You sure you don’t want to join me?” He grinned, pointing at the bathroom. “A nice hot shower would do wonders for that disposition of yours.”

  “Don’t get started on my disposition, Jack. My psyche would rather I hurt you again.”

  “I could make it worth your while,” he continued as if she hadn’t said a word. “A nice massage. Starting at your shoulders. Down your back.”

  Morgan shivered in spite of herself. “You certainly have a pair, Jack. I’ll give that to you, so if you don’t want said items tied up in a knot, verrry tightly, I suggest you go into the bathroom and forget all about what you’re thinking right now.”

  She watched him shudder. “Heaven forbid. Does that mean the honeymoon’s over?”

  “Yes,” she bit out.

  “You know, I’m not adverse to having other parts of my anatomy tied up. You know, like wrists, ankles… Not too tight, of course.”

  “Jack!” she screamed.

  “I’m going; I’m going.”

  She listened to the door close and wondered how she wasn’t on the floor rolling. God, he was outrageous.

  That’s what you like about him.

  “I don’t like him at all,” she muttered under her breath.

  You like how he makes you feel.

  “Yeah, when he’s not betraying said derriere.”

  “Do you always talk to yourself like that?” he asked with a slight smile on his face.

  She started, looking up. She hadn’t realized he was still in the room. “No. I thought you were taking a shower.”

  “I am. I will. As soon as we get one thing straight.”


  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “This.”

  He pulled her hard against him and covered her mouth with his. She fought against him but fought against herself more. Her body knew what she wanted better than her mind. Still, there was always pride.

  He let go as swiftly as he’d snared her. “You think about that while I’m in the shower. And remember something.”

  She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

  “It won’t simply go away because you want it to.”

  She listened to the water run, knowing he was right. But she didn’t know how to reconcile her emotions. She certainly didn’t know how to separate them. She wanted Jack with every fiber of her being. He was an addiction. He was the dream she had no right dreaming.

  On the other hand, she was still furious with him for his betrayal. The only thing that had saved him was his timely rescue of her from Sam’s clutches. And Morgan wasn’t secure enough in her own skin to believe Jack had made love to her because he really couldn’t help himself.

  She sat down on the bed, feeling hurt and angry and very confused. He’d asked her to simply feel. But her feelings were tied up tighter than the knots she’d dreamed about tying in the limo.

  “I understand, kitten.”

  Morgan looked up to see him standing in front of her, a towel slung low over his hips. She couldn’t swallow any better now than the first time she’d seen him this way.

  “No you don’t,” she bit out.

  His brow lifted. His head cocked as if to ask, oh no?

  “Better yet, I don’t, Jack. That’s the problem. I don’t understand. You let me down.” He nodded, his arms widening as if to say I can’t change that. “And what you don’t, what you’ll never understand, is how many times in my life that’s happened to me. All I’ve ever wanted was the cowboy and the white horse.”

  She watched his features tighten as her knife speared his guts with razor-like accuracy. But to his credit, he simply inhaled, and raked his hand through his hair. “Sorry, kitten,” he told her, expelling that breath. “Wrong guy. I flunked hero school.”

  “I figured that out,” she replied with a derisive smile.

  He didn’t answer at first. Just sat down on the bed next to her. “I really do care about you, Morgan. Give me some time. I’ll prove it to you.”