by Rita Herron
“The Master? What did he do?”
“He administered the treatments. He was a monster.”
Luke pressed her head into his shoulder and stroked her back. “Shh, it’s all right.”
“No, I should have died, too, Luke. Don’t you see? Sutton saved me instead of the other girls, then turned me into a freak. A killer.”
Luke rocked her back and forth, then slowly led her to the bedroom and pulled her down beside him. Stella fell into his embrace, her heart breaking for the other kids who had lost their lives.
And for the innocence she’d lost as well.
She’d never forgive Sutton for what he’d done to her and those other children.
And she’d never, ever call him her father. A father didn’t turn his own daughter into a killer.
LUKE PRESSED tender kisses to Stella’s head, massaging her back and shoulders as she spent her emotions. His own heart ached for her. She had endured so much, and he sensed she’d never been shown any tenderness or real love.
Damn Drake Sutton.
He would make sure the bastard paid.
But Sutton obviously hadn’t been working alone. Luke had to find his conspirators and see that they were punished as well. And this man—the Master. He wanted to torture him the way he had Stella.
Stella’s tears finally subsided, and she curled into him, her hand gently stroking his chest. He threaded his fingers through her hair, wound the ebony strands around his fingers, felt such intense hunger and protective feelings that he wished they could lie there forever. Secure together, away from the rest of the world and its horrors.
Stella slid a hand up and caressed his cheek with her fingers, and his body hardened. Her tear-misted eyes searched his, begging, hoping, yearning. Knowing he was still walking a tightrope but unable to stop himself, he lowered his head and claimed her mouth. Her lips were soft, supple, her tiny moan of acquiesce nearly his undoing. He deepened the kiss, tasting her innocence, her pain, her need in the way she clung to him. She cupped his face and dropped delicate kisses along his jaw, his ear, then his neck. He spread his hands along her back and drew her tighter, savoring the way her body fit with his, the way she plucked at heartstrings he hadn’t known existed.
He’d vowed not to make love to her until she could give herself to him completely.
He didn’t know what was happening to him here, but he wasn’t a hundred percent sure he could keep his promise.
Yes, he could. But he could still give her pleasure. Prove he wasn’t a selfish madman like Sutton.
Her kisses grew more passionate, the touches more urgent. His heart racing, he lowered his head, tasted the flesh of her neck, then swept her shirt away and teased her nipples through the flimsy lace bra. The stiff peaks begged for more, and he gave them his rapt attention, stripping the lingerie until he clenched the rigid peak of her nipple between his teeth. The weight of her other breast spilled over his palm, and he kneaded it while drinking in the blissful titillation of the other. She slid her leg between his, stroking his calf with her foot.
“I need you, Luke.”
Her softly murmured plea drove him crazy. He suckled her other breast until she bucked and scraped her nails across his back, urging him to take more, to give her pleasure. He walked her backward to the bedroom and lowered them to the bed. Then he flipped her over, stripped her warm-ups and underwear, and removed his own clothes. Finally he crawled on top of her. He started at her neck, then licked and sucked his way down her shoulders, to her spine, the arch of her back, her buttocks.
She groaned and protested, tried to reverse positions, but he held her prisoner to his teasing just as he was a prisoner to her desires. His hard length pressed against her, and he pushed her legs apart, fitting his shaft between them, teasing, stroking, rubbing her until she cried out into the pillow.
“Please, Luke, please, I want you.”
She clutched the sheets with her nails as he rolled her over to face him, then pushed her legs apart and positioned them over his shoulders. His own body hardened as he dipped lower to find her center with his tongue. She was already wet from wanting him, her body spasming with her orgasm. He tasted the heart of her, lapped and loved her precious body until she trembled and quivered from her release.
“Luke, please…”
He rose above her with shaky arms, cradled her face in his hands. “I made you a promise.”
“Don’t stop now,” she cried. “I may be broken, but take me as I am, Luke. I need you.”
He looked into her eyes and wondered if she were right. If she really was broken. If so, maybe his loving could mend her.
Take me as I am.
The anguish and hunger in her eyes was such a heady combination that he couldn’t deny her. She wet her lips, slid her hand over his erection and began to stroke him, slowly rubbing from the base of his hard length to the tip. He pulsed and throbbed in her hand, knowing he wouldn’t release himself this way. If he came, they’d do it together. Him inside her. Her quivering around him.
She flicked a tongue across his nipple and swirled her finger across his sex again, tempting him. Her pleading eyes sent him over the edge. They were the eyes of a woman who’d never been loved.
That was the gift he could give her.
Hating himself for not being strong enough to keep his promise, but unable to deny them any longer, he grabbed a condom from his pants, then rolled it on. When he looked down, she was watching. Staring. Smiling.
Her seduction was dangerous.
But complete, as he slid himself inside her.
One moment of blissful, slow teasing, and she grabbed his buttocks and begged him to pump harder. He did. Thrusting deeper and deeper each time, increasing the rhythm until they were both sweating and aching.
“Oh, Luke….”
Her husky words ignited the fire in his loins to a fever pitch, and he lifted her rear, angling her so he could sink himself to her core. When he pushed to her depths, she reached for his hands, clung to them as he thrust into her again and again. The first spasms of her orgasm flowed around him as his own willpower splintered, and relief spilled through him.
When he glanced into her heady gaze, he knew that he’d crossed the line once again. This time, he’d not only made love to her, but he’d lost his soul as well.
He only prayed it was worth it….
Chapter Twelve
Luke hugged Stella to him, inhaling the sweet fragrance of her raspberry shampoo as he savored the last remnants of the morning. Stella sighed and curled into him, mumbling his name as he stroked her hair.
What had happened to the hardened agent who never crossed the line? Now all the lines intersected, curved and darted off in tangents so he didn’t know which direction to travel.
Move forward with a personal relationship with Stella?
How could he when he didn’t know the truth about her or her feelings toward him?
Her hair brushed his cheek, offering a view of the small scar behind her ear again, and his stomach knotted. She couldn’t help it that she’d been victimized as a child.
Yet had she really turned the corner?
Stella rolled away from him, fighting with the covers. “Kill…Devlin. Yes, Master.”
He froze, stiffening by her side as she whispered the words again.
“Yes. Kill Devlin.”
He eased his arm from behind her and sat up. Dammit. He’d begun to trust her when she obviously hadn’t outrun her nightmares. And how did he know for sure that she hadn’t been programmed or trained to seduce him again, then strike when he was least expecting it? Maybe she’d been given a hypnotic suggestion that could be triggered by a phone call or a word or a symbol.
Had he once again been sleeping with the enemy?
“Luke?”
He squared his shoulders and stood, facing the bed. Her eyes slid over him, seductive, sultry, asking for a repeat performance of the night before.
Asking for more than he could give.
>
Because if he took her again this morning, he’d be lost all over again.
And he had a job to do. Find a monster who’d tortured young children, stolen their identity and childhood and turned them into soldiers.
“I need to get on the case, and meet my contact.”
Disappointment flared momentarily in her eyes. “Can I come with you?”
“No.” He couldn’t take a chance, not and break Quinn’s cover.
She raised up on her knees, her breasts swaying as she traced a finger down his bare chest. His sex surged and rose toward her. She smiled, cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. A slow, sultry kiss meant to entice him to return to bed.
God help him, it almost worked.
But the memory of her calling his name in passion, then talking about killing him in her sleep, stopped him cold.
“Last night was so wonderful, Luke. What’s wrong now?”
He chewed the inside of his cheek. “You were repeating commands in your sleep, Stella. Commands to kill me.”
THE EUPHORIA of the night before slowly seeped from Stella’s body. Luke’s erection, which had been begging for her a moment earlier, vanished as well.
“I said that?”
He nodded, and she wrapped the covers around her, the urge to hide setting in. Doubts about herself followed.
“I must have been having another nightmare.”
“Probably.”
Distrust lingered between them, though, tainting their lovemaking and the warm cocoon that had enveloped them as they’d slept. She craved Luke’s arms around her again, wanted him murmuring soft tender nothings, doing wicked things to her body.
But she had no right to ask such a thing. She certainly couldn’t expect it.
His gaze locked with hers, questions, doubt, uncertainty lingering between them. Unable to make him promises she couldn’t keep, she watched him walk to the shower, aching to join him. Finally resigned, she stood, wrapped the sheet around her and studied herself in the mirror. Curious about the tattoo mark, she found a small mirror in the dresser and angled it so she could see the back of her ear. The symbol Luke had noticed.
Sutton had branded her, made her a number, not a person. She wanted to scrub away the tattoo, but it had been permanently etched into her skin as if it marked her for life. And it signified that Sutton had controlled her, body, soul and mind.
The only way she could ever be free and love Luke completely was to rid herself of this unwanted connection between her and Sutton.
Unbidden, the truth came to her—the only way to do that was to kill him.
She closed her eyes, imagined herself loading a gun. The act seemed natural. More disturbing images flashed into her head—images of target shooting when she was young. Of staring at cardboard signs that resembled humans and firing. Images of training exercises with blanks where the kids formed teams, were dropped into deserted areas, forced to survive for weeks on end, taught to take on the enemy with no hesitation.
She saw a body falling, a stranger, and wondered if he were real or if he’d been a hologram—another method they used for simulation battles.
The shower water clicked off, jerking her from her memories, and she dropped her hands to her sides. She hadn’t realized she’d raised them, had mimicked holding the gun until she saw her steadfast reflection in the mirror.
Could she kill Sutton if it meant escaping him?
He had rescued her from the fire when she was a child. Acted as a substitute father when her mother had sold her. Claimed he was her blood father.
Yet, how could he say he loved her?
He couldn’t, not and order her to kill the only person in the world she actually cared about. The only one who might be able to save her wicked, lost soul…
“LOOK, KAT, JAYCEE, I have Stella under control.” Sutton gestured for them to seat themselves in the office so he could explain. “I know you two tried to kill her when she went to Devlin.”
“We were following orders,” Kat said matter-of-factly.
“She’s been a ticking bomb for the past fifteen months,” Jaycee added. “Ever since she met Luke Devlin.”
“I told you she wasn’t up for the assignment.” Kat stretched her long, lithe legs in front of her. “You should have let me at him.”
“Or me,” Jaycee murmured with a sly grin.
Sutton arched a brow, his voice low but lethal. “Don’t tell me you two are attracted to that damn agent, too? What is it with the man?”
Kat grinned, one hand trailing over tight, black leather pants. “He has a commanding presence,” she admitted. “And I would have enjoyed taunting him before killing him.”
“Yes,” Jaycee said in a low voice. “It would have been fun to watch him beg for mercy.”
Sutton almost grinned. The experiment had worked so much better with Kat and Jaycee. Maybe he had been too soft with Stella.
“What’s done is done,” Sutton said. “But rest assured, I found a way to manipulate Stella.”
Kat and Jaycee exchanged worried looks. “How?” Jaycee asked.
“If she doesn’t help us, Devlin is dead.”
Both women nodded. “Just say the word,” Jaycee said.
“We’ll eliminate both of them together,” Kat added.
Sutton swallowed. Kat and Jaycee would follow through and have no regrets afterward. “Now, what have you found out about the work at Nighthawk Island?”
Kat leaned forward, practically purring. “We think there’s an undercover agent there now. I’m working on unearthing his identity.”
Sutton swallowed. Maybe they could turn the agent and use him to their advantage.
But he wanted names of projects. Results. Something he could sell to the highest bidder.
Some way to redeem himself to the Master for this mess with Stella. The Master had taught him not to let things get personal. And he had failed. Meaning he was disposable.
LUKE HAD TO PUT some distance between himself and Stella. Focus on the case. Find out who was behind Sutton and obtain evidence on the details of the experiment years ago. It was the only way he could nail Sutton and free Stella from his evil grasp.
After that, Luke had no idea what would happen between them.
But he could probably cut a deal for the handler’s shooting in exchange for her testimony against Sutton. Afterward, he might be able to arrange a therapist who could counteract the brainwashing she’d suffered.
Knowing that if he joined Stella in the shower and saw her naked again, he’d make love to her, he left while the water was still running. En route to the police headquarters, he made a quick phone call to his superior.
“What’s going on?” Spencer asked.
“Just checking in,” Luke answered.
“Do you have Stella Segall under watch?”
“I’ve moved her to another safe house.”
“Then you left her alone again?”
Luke hesitated. “Yes.”
“Devlin, she’s not the victimized woman she appears to be on the surface. I didn’t want to tell you this, but I have photos of her and J.T. Osborne together.”
Luke’s stomach plummeted. “What?”
“I told you Osborne wasn’t trustworthy. He was helping Stella and Sutton.”
Luke swallowed hard in denial. No… He’d trusted J.T. Trusted Stella.
“You’re saying they were involved?”
“They were sleeping together, yes.”
Luke’s lungs tightened as pain and betrayal knifed through him. He’d defended J.T. Had sent his wife and son money. Had put his career on the line insisting J.T. was not corrupt.
Myra’s words rose to taunt him. “I think J.T.’s seeing another woman.”
Luke had reassured her that J.T. wasn’t a cheater. And if J.T. had slipped, Luke would have never considered he’d slept with Stella. J.T. had never even mentioned that he knew her.
She met you right after J.T.’s death. Maybe the meeting wasn’t a coincide
nce….
God, he felt like a fool.
And J.T.’s death—Luke had suspected murder. Could Stella be responsible?
“Devlin?” Spencer snapped. “Give me the address of the safe house, and I’ll assign a tail to Stella.”
Sweat trickled down Luke’s neck. He felt sick to his stomach. “Yeah. Okay.” Luke recited the address, wondering how he could have been so stupid.
“Don’t blow Quinn’s cover at CIRP,” Spencer muttered.
Luke frowned and pulled into the precinct. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of this myself. It’s too risky having him poke around for me on Nighthawk Island.”
“What are you looking for exactly?” Spencer asked.
“Sutton had a conspirator years ago,” Luke answered. “I think that person is still pulling the strings.”
A long pause followed. “Just keep me posted.”
Luke agreed and hung up. Five minutes later, he gulped down a cup of coffee, desperately trying to banish the J.T.-Stella scenario from his head, while Black filled him in on everything he’d learned about Nighthawk Island.
“Here’s a basic sketch of the island.” Black pointed to several buildings on a map. “This is the main hub of the research park. There are also a few smaller buildings located on the other side of the island with decontamination units.”
All in all, the island was a few miles across. But Luke would have to go in on foot to avoid security. Then it would take time to make the trek to the main facility.
“Security cameras are scattered at various points around the research park.” Black marked them on the map, then pointed to a cove about four miles down from CIRP’s main headquarters. “This is the best entry point. Because of the cliffs and lack of security, you can sneak a small fishing boat in, hide it in the cove for escape, then lose yourself in these woods until you weave your way up to the facility.”
Then would come the difficult part. Sneaking inside. Gaining access to password-protected computer files.
Luke thanked him, then left. Armed with water and ammunition, he phoned Quinn to ask for assistance. Quinn directed him to a south entrance where he would deactivate the security long enough for Luke to enter. After that, he’d be on his own.
