Hearing about his long courtship, the woman who’d been his best friend and his lover brought slamming home to Kelly how quickly things had moved between them, how quickly she had tumbled into bed with him. Even with Carl, she’d never done that. She’d never wanted to share everything with Carl, never wanted to surrender completely the way she did with Spence. It made her sick.
What had she done? Would she never learn? Panic rose in her throat, choking her. She sat up, ignoring the concern in Spence’s eyes as he pushed himself to his elbows.
“Kelly?”
“Just want to take a shower.” Dragging the light spread from the bed, she wrapped it around her, fighting the urge to stuff her fist in her mouth to keep from crying.
“I’m sorry I went on that way.”
“Nonsense. I asked you.” So what was her problem? Why did she suddenly feel as if her breath were slowly being squeezed out? “I’ll just be a second. You don’t have to stay.”
She heard him get out of bed. “Kelly, honey—”
“It’s all right, Spence.” Her voice cracked and she hurried to the bathroom.
He caught her at the door, turning her. “Hey.” He nudged her chin up. “I don’t make a habit of this. In fact, I’ve never done this.”
She didn’t need the flush spreading down his neck to know he was telling the truth. “I know.” Which somehow made her even more sad.
He gently fingered a strand of her hair, his knuckle grazing her bare collarbone. “I care about you, as crazy as that sounds.” His laugh sounded as hollow and uncertain as she felt. “I know it’s been fast and all. Hell, my head’s still spinning.”
She was afraid she was going to cry. Or scream. Her nerves were stretched taut, humming at a numbing pitch. “This is a weird situation,” she said carefully, not wanting to hurt him, but feeling suffocated. And stupid. “I took comfort from you and I appreciate it. Maybe we should leave it at that.”
“Maybe.” He sounded doubtful.
So was she. The air turned thick, pressed in on her. She reeled with the need to get away. She retreated a step, forcing him to release her hair. “I’d better…take that shower.”
He nodded, his eyes dark and shuttered against her now. It broke her heart. She tried to ignore that. And the way her skin still burned with his touch. She gave him a shaky smile and shut the door. Bowing her head against the hard wood, she sucked in a deep breath. Cold sweat dappled her skin.
She waited for him to try the knob, but he didn’t.
She was glad. No, she wasn’t. Dropping the bedspread, she stepped into the tub and turned on the shower, yanking the curtain closed. Nausea rolled over her in a wave and she braced her hands against the tile, hanging her head.
She blanked her mind, refusing to remember how wonderful it felt to be in his arms, refusing to relive the moment she’d realized that she would gladly surrender anything to Spence. Suddenly she couldn’t imagine her life without Spence and that made her angry. She’d fought so hard never to need a man again. Well, she could look at it nine ways from Sunday, but for now she needed Spence. She just had to remember it was only for now.
She stayed in the shower until the blistering water turned tepid. Her hands and feet were wrinkled. Cautiously, she opened the door, hoping he was gone.
He was.
Spence had given her some space, which was what she wanted. So why did she feel as if she’d been kicked in the teeth?
Wrapped in a towel, she sank down on the edge of the bed, surrounded by the mingled scents of their bodies, singling out the spicy scent that was Spence. Her wet hair chilled her bare shoulders. The air conditioner hummed low around her. She was very much afraid she was falling in love with Spence Cantrell, had already fallen in love with him.
She closed her eyes against the thought, unable to bear thinking it. It was too fast. Insanely fast. She’d fallen this hard and fast once before; she couldn’t afford to do it again. Her heart knew Spence was different than Carl, but even so, where did they go after this? After Carl was captured and sent back to prison. If Carl was captured.
She’d been wrong about her feelings before. Was she wrong this time? Had she just made another mistake? Or ruined the best thing that had ever happened to her?
A few hours later, Spence lay in the bed in his own hotel room and stared at the ceiling. Kelly had been shaken by their lovemaking. Hell, so had he, but why had she practically kicked him out? Maybe it was her fear of Hart. Knowing the guy was just across the airfield had to wind her nerves into a knot.
Spence wished he could take away her fear, settle her the same way she’d settled him. She hadn’t provided just a much-needed physical release; she’d tripped some emotional trigger inside him. Emotion flooded in, and this time he let it roll over him.
His senses focused with the precision of a laser. His body was sated, but so was his mind. A strange, unfamiliar peace had seeped in, peace he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing. And he felt a sense of purpose for the first time in years, something besides just going through the motions.
Oh, yeah, just the thought of his body buried in hers, the tight, secret way her body gripped him made him hard, but it was more than that. Making love with her had shaken him deep inside where he guarded the well of his strength and the most precious of his memories, where he’d built his carefully erected wall brick by scarred brick. She’d penetrated that wall and he couldn’t imagine his life without her.
Spence knew that what he felt for her was real. No matter how long he’d known her, his gut told him she was the woman for him and he didn’t want to let her get away. The fear in her eyes had unlocked something in him, but it was her courage, her strength that nudged the lock open.
He knew they’d met under unsavory circumstances, knew their emotions were heightened by the hijacking, but that didn’t explain why he had this insane urge to wake up next to her every day for the rest of his life. It had happened fast. It made no sense, but there was no denying it.
Spence had fallen for her. What was he going to do about it? He had no idea, but he wanted to reassure her that they hadn’t made a mistake by making love, that she hadn’t made one.
If her feelings right now were anything similar to his, she felt as if she faced the edge of a cliff, surrounded on all sides, pressured to make a split-second decision. Maybe they could do it together.
Remembering the panic that had sharpened her features before he’d left this morning, Spence knew he needed to see her. Needed to let her know that she could trust him. Needed to let her know that when he boarded Flight 407, he had every intention of taking down Hart and coming back to explore what had exploded between him and Kelly a few hours ago.
Foregoing a shave in preparation for his future masquerade as a prisoner, he took a quick shower, brushed his teeth and put on fresh clothes, then started across the hall for Kelly’s room.
He gave a sharp rap on her door.
“Cantrell!”
Spence turned to see Taggart moving purposefully toward him, still looking as rumpled and red-eyed as he had last night.
“She in there?” He cocked his head toward Kelly’s door.
“I just knocked.” Spence raised his hand to knock again, but she opened the door.
Wariness joined the fatigue that hollowed her features. Her gaze shot from Spence to Taggart. “What’s happened?”
“Just wanted to give you both a status report,” Taggart said.
Kelly nodded and stepped back in silent invitation for them to enter.
Spence’s nerves hummed and it wasn’t just the fresh soap scent of Kelly curling around him or the memory of being buried deep inside her. The urgency and leashed tension in Taggart’s voice had Spence’s muscles coiling.
Kelly left the door open and moved into the room. “What is it?”
“Airport Director Logan has a temporary tower in place and she’s cleared both runways of debris. At my request, she left some debris on the taxiway that leads to the runway
Hart wants to use.”
Taggart paused to see if Kelly was following. Spence thought she was probably following all too well.
After she nodded, the FBI agent continued, “Now, Hart’s demanding enough fuel to fill all the tanks and that we clear the taxiway completely. I’ve gotten him to agree to release eleven hostages in exchange for the fuel and ten more for removing the last of the debris from the taxiway. Once we clear that taxiway, he’ll be able to take off. If it comes to that, we’ve got a chase plane in place off the east runway, out of Hart’s sight. My snipers can’t get a shot at the SOB, but I think my plan of sending Spence on board while you’re distracting Hart might work. We could put this thing to bed.” His gaze slid to Spence. “I take it you asked Miz Jackson if she’d agree to be our distraction?”
“Yes.” At his sides, Spence’s hands curled into fists. “That’s not an option.”
Taggart glanced at him, then fixed his gaze on Kelly. “I can stall Hart another couple of hours, but that’s probably it. I told him you were on your way from Ryan, and he said you’d better make that noon deadline. He’s agreed to release twenty-five additional hostages if you’ll meet him face to face. That gets fifty-nine people off the plane. We’ll outfit you with body armor, put you behind a bulletproof shield. He won’t be able to hurt you.”
“You’ll have to send a policewoman,” Spence bit out. “Kelly’s not going.”
“Yes,” she said hoarsely, staring at Taggart. Her eyes were huge in her chalky face. “Yes, I will.”
Shock hit Spence like shrapnel. “What! No, you’re not. We talked about this.”
Her gaze shifted to his. He saw pure terror in the soft blue depths, but he also saw a steely resolve. “Yes.”
Chapter 4
In the end, Kelly managed to overcome Spence’s objections, convincing him that facing Carl was something she had to do. He reminded himself of that as the two of them silently walked out of the hotel with Taggart and over to the airport. The sun was nearly straight overhead in a calm blue sky that belied the churning tension surrounding them. They had an hour before the noon deadline Hart had set. An hour that Spence wished he could spend alone with Kelly, but time was too tight.
He took her to Airport Director Christine Logan’s office, his jaw clenching when Kelly gave him a long look before disappearing into Logan’s private rest room with two female FBI agents who would outfit her with body armor, a riot helmet and a bulletproof shield.
The time for objections was past, he knew, but that didn’t stop the frustration, the resentment boiling inside him as he strode to the nearby elevator and punched the down button. Thanks to Taggart’s timely visit, Spence hadn’t been able to find out if Kelly was all right about last night. She’d needed room and so had he, but now?
And never mind about telling her she could watch everything from a safe distance. She was about to be face to face with Hart.
Reaching ground level, Spence strode to the ramp that would take him outside, his shoes clicking sharply against the waxed tiles. The mobile home that housed the FBI’s command center was some distance from the terminal in the safety zone around the hijacked plane.
Sliding behind the wheel of his marshal’s sedan, he drove away from the terminal. He wanted to stand beside Kelly as she faced the man who’d put her through such hell, but he’d seen a determined strength blazing in her blue eyes. The woman had guts, no doubt about it. And, he told himself, she’d be all right. She’d be surrounded by half the Hostage Rescue Team.
After parking behind the command center, he pulled open the door to the mobile home and stepped inside, trying to focus on his upcoming strategy session with Agent Taggart and Suzanne Delachek. But Kelly was a piece of every breath he took, an ache in every move he made. Despite the way adrenaline zinged through him, he knew he had to strip away all that and concentrate on boarding Flight 407 to take Hart down before he could do any more damage, to Kelly or anyone else.
The mobile home was a nest of humming activity and several degrees cooler than the pleasant spring temperature outdoors to keep the equipment at optimum operating capacity. Besides allowing the FBI to visually monitor the plane and be on the spot in an instant if Hart tried something, this unit was a self-contained home-away-from-home with a small kitchen and rest rooms.
Along one wall were monitors showing the plane from every conceivable angle. Technicians sat in front of the screens, murmuring into headsets. The other wall boasted more high-tech communications equipment than Spence had seen in a James Bond movie. The stale scent of leftover take-out hovered in the air along with the smell of too many bodies crammed together for far too long.
Receivers and transmitters clicked, hooked into frequencies with the snipers, the Hostage Rescue Team leader, the FBI radios and even one for Quinn Buchanan, captain over the Whiskey Springs Police Department’s airport division. People hustled around Spence with quick efficiency.
“Down here, Cantrell.” Taggart hailed him from a small table at the opposite end of the trailer.
A leggy blonde stood beside Taggart, a roll of paper stuffed under her arm.
Spence maneuvered his way between back-to-back chairs and tried to push thoughts of Kelly out of his mind. Tried to leash the protectiveness that bordered on possession, tried to calm the swirling fury of emotion inside him. Do the job. Stop Hart before Kelly has to get within fifty feet of that plane.
“Marshal Spence Cantrell, this is Suzanne Delachek.” Taggart indicated the woman whose neat appearance and sleekly pinned up silver-blond hair made the FBI agent look even more rumpled. “She’s the Senior Instructor pilot for the FAA. She can fly just about anything but a camel.”
“Hello, Marshal Cantrell.” Her cool blue eyes crinkled as she grinned and shook Spence’s hand.
“Spence is fine.” He liked her firm handshake and the sharp intelligence that glittered in her eyes.
“Spence is going on board to take down Hart.” Taggart crumpled his brown paper bag, now empty of macadamia nuts, into a ball and tossed it into a corner wastebasket. “I told him you’re the one who knows just how to do that.”
“Sure thing.” With swift precision, Suzanne whipped the roll of papers from under her arm and spread them on the small table in front of them. “These are the blueprints for your 727. What you want to do is go up through the cargo hold.”
Spence tried to strip away all but Delachek’s expert instruction and his own immediate purpose of getting on Flight 407, but deep down, like the insistent flow of a river, thoughts of Kelly brushed back and forth across his mind. He could—would—deal with what was necessary until he was able to get back to her, look into her eyes and convince her there was something special between them, something that needed exploring.
“See these inspection plates in the cargo hold?” Suzanne asked. When Spence nodded, she said, “Take these off to get through to the passenger area. There will be one when you board and one just before you reach the belly of the plane, where you’ll need to come up.”
“How do I do that? Screwdriver or wrench?”
“Wrench is better. I’d say a Dagen wrench. It’s also got a socket end, if you need it.”
Spence nodded, making a mental note to call maintenance for the tool when he left here to change clothes.
“We’ll be using a Gulfstream III jet as a chase plane,” Taggart said. “If Hart gets 407 off the ground. Miss Delachek will be on board and so will I, along with backup agents.”
Suzanne put in, “We can keep 407 on radar, but stay out of sight.”
Spence nodded.
“Even though we have a backup plan, let’s try to cut Hart off at the pass.” Taggart glanced out the window where the hijacked plane sat without activity at the moment.
“I’ll do my best,” Spence said. “How many men are you planning to send out with Kelly?”
He thought he saw a flicker of speculation in Delachek’s eyes at his mention of Kelly, but he was more interested in Taggart’s plans.
Spence bit back the curse that rose to his lips. From now on, his job was to try to get to Hart before Kelly did. “I’ll take the wrench. I’ll also take the handcuff keys and slip them to the marshals.” He scratched at his three-day growth of whiskers, wishing for a shave, but if he wanted to blend in with the prisoners on 407, the scruffier he looked, the better. His face itched, his nerves twanged. He was ready to get this finished.
“Thanks,” he said to Suzanne before turning to Taggart. “I’ll change into the same white T-shirt and khaki pants the prisoners are wearing.”
The other man nodded. “According to the hostages released so far, Hart is keeping all the convicts chained up.”
“Ah.” Spence arched an eyebrow. “He doesn’t know who to trust.”
“Right,” Taggart confirmed. “They never hold prisoners in the prison transfer center long enough for them to get to know each other. Hart’s also moved everyone closer to the front of the plane so he can keep an eye on them all.”
“So I need to stay behind them,” Spence strategized aloud. “We’re going to need some weapons loaded onto that food cart. I don’t want my men outgunned.”
“What about the weapons sensor?” Taggart’s beeper sounded and he held up a finger while he reached over and picked up a cell phone, speaking in a low tone.
“You can deactivate that when you remove the inspection plate.” Suzanne again unrolled her blueprints, pointed to the drawing of a small box inside the crawlway to the passenger area. “You should be able to get on without raising Hart’s suspicions. Like most people, he probably won’t think there’s any way to enter the passenger compartment from the cargo hold.”
“Thanks.” Spence gave her a tight smile, nerves coiling. His gaze shifted to Taggart as the man ended his call. “Is Kelly ready?”
“Yeah. She’s coming down to ground level as we speak. My agents are bringing her here.”
“I want to talk to her before I go out to the plane.”
Special Report Page 13
