“I realize you’ve got your mind set on this trek, but I still don’t feel easy about it,” Justin said as Beatrice stepped out onto the front porch, suitcase and black leather bag in hand.
She read the worry on his face and guilt assailed her. He was an old man. She did not want to cause him undue stress. There was a time when secrets needed to be shared and this was one of those times. “Would it ease your mind to know that Ryder and I have a great deal more in common than the rest of the family realizes?”
Relief spread over the old man’s face. “Yes, it would.” His gaze narrowed on her. “I suspected that at one time. But you never said anything or showed any signs.”
“I felt that some things were better kept private. I still do. I would like this to be our secret.”
He nodded knowingly, then gave her a hug. “You take care.”
“I will,” she promised.
Flying west, she gained three hours. Even so, night had fallen when, according to the directions she’d gotten from the gas-station attendant in Redig, she turned her rented car onto the hard dirt road leading to Hawk Stone’s ranch. Rounding a curve at the base of a hill, she saw the lights of a house ahead of her. Drawing nearer, she could see it was a large, frame, two-story affair with a long, wide-roofed porch. There were corrals and several outbuildings beyond. Stables, a barn and a bunkhouse, she surmised.
A tall, strongly built man came out the front door as she parked. In the glow from the porch light, she could see he was of Native American descent. As he continued toward her, she looked beyond him to see that a pretty, burgundyhaired pregnant woman had followed him out of the house. Unlike the man, the woman stopped at the top step of the porch.
“Looks like you’re lost,” the man said, coming to a halt beside the car.
Meeting his cool gaze, Beatrice felt a strong wave of déjà vu. His eyes reminded her of Joe. His manner did, as well. He was polite but there was also a strong “Go away, you don’t belong here” message in his tone. “Maybe,” she replied. “I’m looking for Amanda Stone.”
“I’m Amanda.”
Beatrice saw that the woman had approached and realized the man had held her attention so strongly, she’d missed the movement. Joe had had a way of holding her attention like that. On missions, she’d had to fight doubly hard not to concentrate on him. She smiled hopefully at the woman. “I’ve come all the way from Smytheshire, Massachusetts, to see you.” Wanting the man to know that he could not intimidate her into leaving before she’d stated her business, she opened her door, forcing him to step back a little, and climbed out.
Amanda frowned in confusion. “Why would you come all that way to see me?”
“I didn’t catch your name.” It was the man who spoke.
For a moment Beatrice hesitated, then decided that an alias would not do. Amanda might take it into her head to check. “I’m Beatrice Gerard.” She extended her hand to the man. “And you?”
“Hawk Stone,” he replied, accepting the handshake but continuing to remain guarded.
Like a sentry protecting his queen, she thought, and felt a twinge of envy for Amanda. Returning her attention to the woman, she said, “I believe we met a number of years ago at a church social when you were visiting your cousin, Madaline Darnell. Of course she was still a MacGreggor then.”
“That was a long time ago. At least fifteen years.” Amanda’s manner remained as guarded as her husband’s. “I’m surprised you remember me.”
Beatrice had spent a lot of time learning to read people. With these two, she knew that only the truth would get her what she wanted. “I don’t really remember you,” she admitted. “But I am aware that you have a talent for finding things and people, and there is someone I need to locate. I think he may be in trouble.”
Amanda’s expression immediately softened. “I can’t promise you that I can be of any assistance, but I will try. Please, come inside.”
Beatrice immediately accepted the woman’s invitation, accompanying her to the house. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the husband. His expression had become shuttered and she could see that he continued to be on his guard.
The interior of the house had a warm cozy air.
“We were eating dinner,” Amanda said. “Won’t you join us?”
“I really didn’t mean to impose,” Beatrice replied, coming to a halt just inside the door.
“Really, you won’t be imposing,” Amanda assured her, casting Hawk a “Be nice” glance.
“Yes, of course, you must join us,” he said, echoing his wife’s invitation.
In spite of the politeness of his tone, Beatrice sensed restraint. There was a protectiveness toward the burgundyhaired woman in his eyes that reminded her of the way Joe had looked at her. Only in Hawk’s case, she did not doubt his concern was born out of love. In Joe’s case, at one time, she’d convinced herself he’d felt that way about her. But, in the end, she’d been forced to realize that he’d seen her as a nuisance he had to protect. He’d felt responsible for getting her into The Unit, and he’d felt responsible for keeping her alive while she was there.
Beatrice focused her full attention on Amanda. “I know my coming here is an inconvenience and I would never have imposed if I wasn’t seriously worried about the man I seek. If you could give me some clue as to where to start my search, I’d be grateful and on my way.”
“It’s obvious this means a lot to you.” Amanda’s expression became apologetic. “But I’m really not certain I can help. The truth is, I’ve rarely been able to use my ability on command.”
“If you could just try,” Beatrice pleaded. Taking the necklace from her pocket, she extended it toward the woman.
“That’s Crow.” It was Hawk who spoke, studying the necklace with interest.
“The man I seek is half Crow. This necklace was made by his great-grandfather and given to his great-grandmother. It holds a great deal of significance for him.”
Hawk nodded. “The coyote is a strong totem.”
Accepting the necklace, Amanda motioned toward a nearby upholstered chair. “Please, sit down,” she coaxed.
As Beatrice accepted the invitation, Amanda seated herself in the rocker in front of the fireplace. Hawk took a position a little to her right, continuing to remind Beatrice of a sentry. Holding the necklace loosely in her hands, Amanda closed her eyes.
A silence descended over the room. Mentally Beatrice reviewed the dealers, both in the States and foreign, who she knew traded in illegal weapons. Had Joe found the connection he was looking for through one of them or was it someone new? She prayed Amanda could help her. The possibilities were too varied and she was afraid she might already be too late.
“I see a sign. It reads Tehuacán. I’m heading away from there. The terrain is mountainous and covered by dense woods. The journey is long. Ahead, on the crest of the slope, is what looks like a stone fortress. The walls, I’d guess, are close to fifteen feet high. The entrance is through a wooden gate as high as the walls. Inside are several buildings. All look well cared for. There is a catwalk around the interior of the wall and a man up there to the side of the gate. He is carrying a gun. I get the impression he is on guard. I am being taken to a passage that leads below ground. There are dungeons down here. I’m locked inside.” Amanda’s eyes opened. “If what I saw was real, your friend is in grave danger.”
“He has a knack for that,” Beatrice replied. “Only he’s usually not so careless as to get caught.”
“You will need help to rescue him.” It was Hawk who spoke.
Beatrice heard the offer in his voice and saw the fear on Amanda’s face. “No. He’ll have a better chance if I do this alone. If I need help, I can get it.”
Hawk nodded and. Amanda looked relieved. “Now will you have some dinner with us?” she offered again. “Our housekeeper is an excellent cook.”
Beatrice retrieved the necklace. “No, but thank you. I must be on my way. As you said, my friend appears to be in urgent need of help.” As they walked her back to her car, she added, “It would be safest for you if you forgot I was ever here.”
“You will let us know when you find him?” Amanda asked.
“Or if you need more help than others are able to provide,” Hawk added.
“I will let you know if I find him,” she promised Amanda, then turned to Hawk. “Thank you again for your offer. But I assure you, I know people who can give the kind of aid that will be necessary.”
Driving west, she continued until she was beyond Hammond, Montana, before finding a motel room for the remaining hours of the night. From there she called Tobias.
As usual, he woke alert. She’d always marveled at his ability to come out of a deep sleep, his mind clear and ready to work. Joe had the same ability. They both also had photographic memories, a definite boon in their line of work.
“Sounds like Pedro Palma’s mountain retreat in the Sierra Madre del Sur,” he said, when she’d finished describing the fortress. “It’s listed on the company records as a business expense. He used it to entertain some of his more nervous clients, those who preferred to remain anonymous. He’d fly them in by helicopter. They’d be masked until he got them inside the gates. The place was his version of a Spanish fortress. He had the wine cellar built to resemble a dungeon. The cell you described Joe being in could have been one of the tasting rooms.”
“So Palma has him.” Mentally she pictured the Mexican businessman who passed himself off as a law-abiding citizen. He was plump, always dressed in the finest clothes and being chauffeured around Mexico in a Rolls-Royce. The federates had been after him for years. They were certain he dealt in guns and drugs, but had never gotten enough proof together to put him behind bars. He seemed to have spies everywhere. Each time a witness was willing to come forward, that witness died. Finally, there was no one brave enough to testify against the man.
“Palma is dead. Carlos Sanchez has taken over the reins.”
“Palma’s right-hand man, the one we used to call The Ladies’ Man because he was such a charmer?”
“That’s the one.” Tobias’s voice became thoughtful. “Joe did mention him as one of the leads he was following. But as for that place in the mountains, all intelligence reports indicate that Sanchez never uses it. He prefers to do his entertaining in Acapulco where his selection of women is not so limited. According to everything in our files, that place has been deserted since Palma’s death.”
“Or maybe that’s just what Sanchez wants people to think.”
“It is far enough in the middle of nowhere that any activity there could go unnoticed if no one was looking in that direction,” Tobias conceded. “It is possible that he stayed away long enough for the federates to lose interest in it, then began using it again on a limited basis.”
“I need directions.”
“Without contacting Harold, I can’t give you specifics. And if Joe is right about the mole in The Unit, contacting him could put you at risk. But I can get you to the general vicinity.”
“I’ll find it from there,” she replied.
He gave directions, then asked, “What makes you think Joe’s there?”
“I’ve got to go,” she said, refusing to answer.
The next morning she caught a plane for Los Angeles and made a connection to Mexico City, changing identities with each ticket. The heat was sweltering as she drove away from the terminal. Joe had taught her to be very cautious about those she was willing to trust in the field. In most cases, he’d instructed her to rely only on him or herself. But there was a man who lived in a small village northwest of Mexico City she knew Joe would trust with his life.
Manuel was a federale. His brother had been, as well. They’d been pursuing a band of Colombian drug dealers who were operating in both Mexico and the U.S. Their case had dovetailed into one Joe was working on and he’d joined forces with them. There had been an ambush. Manuel’s brother had been killed but Joe had managed to save Manuel. After she was partnered with Joe, another case had brought them over the border and she’d met Manuel. She hoped he was home and that he remembered her.
Evening was falling and Beatrice was exhausted by the time she pulled up in front of the house she remembered as belonging to him. It looked as if no one was at home. Refusing to give up hope, she parked and started toward the house.
“No one is there,” a teenage girl sitting on the stoop of the house next door called out in Spanish. She was attractively dressed, and Beatrice guessed she was waiting for her boyfriend.
“This the home of Manuel Cortez?” Beatrice asked, wanting to make certain he had not moved. Joe had worked with her until her Spanish was perfect and she spoke with an accent that placed her as a resident of the southern part of the country.
The girl’s face took on a look of sympathy. “Manuel is dead, killed in the line of duty. And so young. Barely into his mid-thirties.” She looked over her shoulder to the hill in the distance and made the sign of the cross. “May he rest in peace.”
Beatrice recalled the dark-haired, dark-eyed man. He would have been strikingly handsome if not for the long, jagged scar across his left cheek that destroyed the symmetry of his face. The scar was a reminder of the shoot-out that had made him and Joe fast friends. After thanking the girl, Beatrice left.
She’d intended to drive directly back to Mexico City, get some sleep, then try her hand at finding the supplies and equipment she would need for her expedition. Instead, she chose to make a stop at the cemetery. It seemed only right to pay her last respects.
The grave was newly dug. Reading the tombstone, she realized Manuel had died only a few days earlier. She recalled standing beside Joe’s grave. Her jaw hardened. There was a big difference. Joe hadn’t been buried in front of his tombstone. He’d been in hiding somewhere, letting her think he was dead, severing all ties with her for what he thought was forever.
“Consuela said you were looking for my husband,” a female voice said from behind Beatrice.
She turned to find a pretty, slender, black-haired woman, about five feet four inches in stature standing a short distance away. This was not the Elena Cortez she remembered—friendly and warm. There was nothing friendly or warm about the woman she now faced. Anger flashed in the dark eyes that raked over her. When recognition sparked, the anger increased.
“I suppose you’ve come seeking his help.” She waved her arm toward the grave. “Well, as you can see, he can no longer help anyone.”
The anger, Beatrice realized, was the only thing keeping the woman from crumbling with grief. Although aware that Elena knew some English, Beatrice continued to speak in Spanish. She wanted what was said between them to be clear. “I’m sorry.”
Elena’s expression became more bitter. “They are all sorry. But they have done nothing to make the man responsible pay. They say they have no evidence. But I know. In here…” She pointed to her heart. “Sanchez might not have been in the car that forced Manuel to crash into the ravine, but it was his men.”
Beatrice knew that feeling. She’d been certain of the identity of the man responsible for the bombing of Joe’s car, but like Elena’s villain, her quarry had protected himself well. “Someday he will be punished,” she said with conviction.
Elena’s jaw trembled. “For days after they found Manuel’s car, I prayed that somehow he had escaped death. I knew it was a futile hope. His blood was found on the front seat. Besides, no one could have survived the crash.”
Beatrice’s gaze leveled on the woman. “Are you saying they didn’t find the body?”
“The river had been swollen for days. The car was not washed away because it embedded itself between two boulders, but Manuel’s body was carried out to sea.”
“Perhaps he did survive,” Beatrice said encouragingly, recalling her own situation.
“He would have come home to me or, at least, gotten word to me.”
Remembering how Manuel had worshiped and trusted his wife, Beatrice had to agree.
Vengeance again burned in Elena’s eyes. “I wish Joe Jones was still alive. He would avenge Manuel. He would see that Carlos Sanchez pays.”
Although Beatrice’s instincts told her she could trust Elena, her training—Joe’s training—refused to allow her to confide completely in the other woman. “I seek Carlos Sanchez. You have my word I will do what I can to see that he is brought to justice.”
The woman’s gaze riveted on Beatrice. “I want to help.”
Beatrice had come seeking Manuel because she was uncertain where to obtain the equipment she needed. It was also important to obtain her supplies without bringing notice to herself. She made a decision. “If you could help me get the supplies I need, I would be grateful. But no one must know.” She rattled off a list of food and camping equipment, then added, “I will also require an old, but reliable vehicle, something with four-wheel drive that looks much used. I don’t want the kind of attention a newer vehicle would bring.”
“We can use Manuel’s Jeep. It is always kept packed with equipment for a night under the stars. And I have enough in my pantry to supply us with food.”
Beatrice frowned. “Not we. Me.”
Elena spread her feet, taking a firm stance. “If you want my help, you will take me with you.”
“It’s not safe. You want vengeance. That could make you do something rash and foolish that would only serve to get you killed.” Beatrice repeated the same objection Tobias had expressed five years ago when she’d demanded the right to go after the man she was certain had killed Joe.
“I was going to go on my own, anyway. We can go together or separately. That is your choice.”
That had been the substance of her response to Tobias, Beatrice recalled. He’d threatened her with a court-martial but she’d stood her ground. In the end, he’d succumbed to her wishes. But he’d assigned Eagle, a more seasoned operative, as her partner and demanded that she respect Eagle’s position as senior on their team and follow his orders. Elena would have to make the same concession. “If I agree to our pursuing this together, I want your word that you will behave with caution and follow my lead.”
“I will behave with caution,” Elena replied.
That was as much of a promise as she’d given Tobias, Beatrice admitted. And she hadn’t kept it. She’d nearly gotten herself killed. But she’d managed to capture the man in a compromising situation that even his money could not buy him out of. For a long moment she regarded Elena in silence. The woman clearly meant to pursue her quest for vengeance. Better to have her where she could keep an eye on her, Beatrice decided. “All right. We go together.”
Elena smiled triumphantly. “Come. You look as if you could use some dinner and then sleep. I will call my family and tell them I have decided to visit a cousin in Honduras. They will understand. They know my grief is strong. The cousin will cover for me. That way, no one will wonder where I’ve gone. We’ll get an early start tomorrow.”
Beatrice nodded and followed the woman out of the cemetery.
Later, after she’d eaten, bathed and dressed for bed, she was too restless to sleep. She pulled on her robe and stepped out onto the back veranda.
A moment later Elena joined her. “I have made the arrangements and packed the food and water we will need.”
Beatrice merely nodded. In spite of the orders she’d given herself, she was again recalling the first time Joe had kissed her. It had been on this very veranda, on a night much like this one.
“Joe’s death must have been very hard on you. I prayed for you when I heard about it,” Elena said with gentle sympathy.
“It is always difficult to lose a partner.”
Elena gave her a “Don’t try to fool me” look. “He was more than a mere partner to you.”
Beatrice raised an eyebrow questioningly as if puzzled by Elena’s claim. She’d been certain no one in their line of work, other than Tobias, had known about her and Joe’s romantic involvement and their marriage.
“I know you were only pretending to be man and wife as part of your cover when you were last here, but I saw him kiss you. It was so quick, and you both seemed so surprised,” Elena elaborated. “I, however, was not surprised. It was the way the two of you fought so hard to keep a distance between you that had me convinced you were struggling not to give in to deeper feelings. I suppose in your line of work, to care too deeply can be a disadvantage. But sometimes, the heart cannot be ruled by logic.” She breathed a tired sigh. “I never wanted to fall in love with a federale.”
“The heart does, sometimes, seem to have a mind of its own,” Beatrice replied.
Elena smiled in sad agreement. “You should get some rest.”
“I’ll be in in a moment,” Beatrice promised.
Alone again on the veranda, she looked skyward. Even now, if she closed her eyes and allowed her senses to take control, she could feel the heat of Joe’s lips on hers.
They had been working together for a little over a year. When she’d first joined The Unit and Tobias had partnered them, Joe had accepted her with stoic resignation. But during their first mission, she’d realized they had a serious problem. He was treating her with deference, trying to keep her out of the line of fire. She had very forcefully pointed out to him that he could not take on the bad guys alone. She’d even gone so far as to threaten to ask Tobias to assign her a new partner.
“You’d walk over any of the others like a trooper in hobnailed boots,” he’d grumbled. He hadn’t looked happy but he’d added, “All right. You win. From now on you’re one of the guys.”
And that was how he’d treated her after that—as a comrade in arms. As senior member of their team, when she did a good job, he told her so. When she slipped, he reamed her out. But always there was a coolness between them, a barrier he never allowed her to cross and become his friend.
She’d been forced to admit to herself that she found him physically attractive. However, his lack of interest in her as a person had caused her pride to refuse to admit to anything deeper. But that night at Manuel’s house, watching Joe relaxed and laughing with an old friend, she’d envied Manuel. She’d even envied Elena. Joe had treated Manuel’s wife with the polite deference of a man in the presence of a beautiful woman. He’d smiled at her with masculine appreciation and complimented her on her house and her cooking. While she and Elena had been doing the dishes, she’d even heard him tell Manuel what a lucky man Manuel was.
As soon as it was politely possible, Beatrice had escaped to the veranda. There she’d been reminding herself that she was the one who had insisted Joe forget she was a woman.
But the fact that he’d been able to do that so easily was causing a strong sting of insult.
“Are you feeling all right? I know Mexican cooking is a little strong for some stomachs,” a familiar male voice had interrupted her silent fuming.
She’d turned to find Joe standing a short distance away. He looked concerned but she was certain his worry was because of the mission. They were supposed to leave the next morning. “I’m fine. As you pointed out several times, Elena is a wonderful cook.”
Joe raised an eyebrow and his concern turned cool.
Mentally she kicked herself. She’d sounded jealous. She turned her attention back to the star-studded sky. “Look, I came out here to be alone for a while. I’m not in the best mood for company tonight.”
“I just thought I’d let you know that Manuel and Elena are retiring for the night. We should be getting some rest, too. I want to get an early start tomorrow.”
“I’ll be in soon.” Her voice carried dismissal.
“Whatever is bothering you, I want to know about it now.”
She turned to see him standing, his feet apart and his arms folded across his chest. It was his “I’m not taking no for an answer” stance. Well, this time he would just have to settle for no! “Nothing is bothering me. I simply want to be alone for a while.”
The scowl on his face deepened. “We’ve got a tough job ahead of us. It could take days, and I’m not spending them enduring a stony silence that suggests I’ve done something wrong that I don’t even know I’ve done.”
“We travel in silence most of the time anyway,” she retorted. “I’ve always been under the impression you prefer it that way.”
“Silence, yes. Brooding, no. Until now we’ve gotten along just fine because you haven’t pulled any of those ‘pouty woman’ moods on me.”
“Well, I am a woman,” she reminded him curtly.
“At the moment, I’m very aware of that,” he growled back.
She’d expected icy cynicism; instead she detected an unexpected gruffness in his voice. When she met his gaze she saw heat in his eyes. “I thought you’d forgotten.” Her own voice was shaky as she felt herself drawn into those dark depths.
“It’s a little hard when you’re dressed like that.” His gaze raked over her and the heat in his eyes intensified.
She admitted to herself that she had chosen the lightweight summer dress, with a low-cut scoop neck and made of a cotton that flowed with her movements, to see if she could attract his attention. That it hadn’t had only increased her irritation toward him. Now that irritation was gone. In its place excitement bubbled to life. She turned fully toward him and the breeze gently molded the fabric to the curves of her body.
His jaw twitched the way it did when he was angry or frustrated. Then, in one long stride, he breached the distance between them. His hands closed around her upper arms and he lifted her onto her toes as his mouth sought hers.
It was a hungry, demanding kiss. For a mere instant she was stunned, then her senses took over. Every fiber of her being reveled with triumph. It was as if they had been waiting for this moment all their lives.
Suddenly, as abruptly as it had begun, it ended. He released her and stepped away. “I’m sorry. That should never have happened,” he said gruffly.
“I didn’t think it was all that bad,” she’d managed to reply, surprised that she could put a sentence together. She’d been standing near one of the round posts holding up the roof that partially shaded the veranda. She leaned back against it to steady her shaky legs.
His face had become shuttered and the cool, distant look she was so used to seeing in his eyes had returned. “It’s not safe for me to be thinking about you as a woman. It diverts my concentration from more important things like keeping us both alive. I’m going to forget that kiss ever happened. I’ll expect you to do the same.” It was an order. He waited for no response. Clearly he expected it to be obeyed without question.
“Consider it forgotten,” she muttered to his departing back as he entered the house. She was still leaning against the pillar and realized her legs continued to feel wobbly. Angrily she scowled at herself. That he could so easily put the kiss out of his mind was evidence that he’d merely given in to a moment of lust. She could have been any woman. And most likely, if she had been someone other than his partner, he would even have taken her to bed. But it would have meant nothing more to him than an enjoyable night. “Do as your commanding officer ordered,” she growled at herself under her breath. “Forget it.” And promising herself that she would, she went inside and to bed.
She and Joe had been tracking a cache of military weapons heisted from a base in Alabama. Their guess was that Pedro Palma was the middleman acting on behalf of the buyer, and the exchange would be taking place in the mountainous region of Mexico near the Guatemalan border.
In spite of several stern self-reprimands, the memory of the kiss continued to taunt her as they’d made their way south. She found herself covertly studying Joe for any sign he might be hiding deeper feelings for her. She saw none. He was once again the commander of their mission and she was merely his subordinate. Angry with the twinge of regret this knowledge brought, she turned her full attention to their mission.
They were to destroy the munitions and, if possible, capture Palma. But the munitions were their primary goal. There would always be other Palmas. She and Joe were on their own. He’d promised Manuel they would call in the federales when they located the exchange site but she knew he wouldn’t do that until the charges were set to ensure that the weapons would be destroyed.
Using photos from surveillance satellites, Tobias had supplied them with a possible location. Not wanting to give up the element of surprise, when Joe thought they were still several miles from their destination, they’d hidden their vehicle and made their way through the dense forest on foot.
The going had been slow and night had fallen when they heard the sounds of voices beyond. Proceeding cautiously, they determined they’d found what they were seeking. From conversations they could hear, it was clear the men did not expect their buyers for another full day, maybe more. Most were not happy about the wait.
She and Joe were. It gave them time to work out a more effective plan of action instead of having to act immediately. It also gave them an opportunity to rest.
Both were exhausted. Even if they did find the stash and blow it up that night, they were too tired to ensure their escape. Joe led her back into the security of the forest to wait out the night. They’d traveled light on survival equipment, heavy on explosives. Between them there was only one tent. Joe found a protected spot in which to pitch it. Then he set up his own early warning system, should human or forest predator come too close. On their first assignment, she’d been amazed to learn that he’d conditioned himself to wake at the mere snapping of a twig.
“It’s a trait I inherited from my Indian ancestors,” he’d told her.
Experience had taught her they could rely on this ability.
After a cold meal, they climbed inside the tent, away from the multitude of insects and snakes that prowled the forest floor.
“I should have insisted Tobias send a man with me on this mission,” Joe fumed as they stretched out on their sleeping bags. Because they’d stashed their explosives inside with them, there was very little room left. Their shoulders brushed and he turned away from her onto his side to place more distance between them.
She scowled at his back. Clearly he hadn’t quite forgotten she was a woman. But it was equally clear he wasn’t happy about this lack of discipline on his part. Well, if he thought she was lying there thinking about that kiss…She wanted to tell herself that wasn’t so and toss a mental barb his way. But the truth was she had been thinking about it. However, she wasn’t going to let him know that! “I thought we’d agreed that you were going to consider me one of the guys,” she said frostily, her tone implying she had no interest in him other than as a fellow operative.
He shifted onto his back, being careful to avoid any contact. “That,” he growled, “is getting harder and harder to do.”
A curl of womanly excitement wove through her. It was quickly replaced by self-directed anger. Lust was all he was feeling. Just like the night on the veranda…he was in the mood for a woman’s body and she was what was available. She attempted to build a shield of indignation. It didn’t work. He wasn’t trying to take advantage of her.
It was her own body that was causing the problem. She was acutely aware of him and that awareness was stirring the fires of passion to life within her. You’re going to get burned, she warned herself. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from easing onto her side for a more complete view of him. “Maybe you shouldn’t fight so hard.”
He frowned darkly at the nylon roof above. “I haven’t got any plans for settling down or even having a long-term arrangement. In this business it’s butter not to look beyond the immediate present.”
He was warning her that they had no future. Her conservative nature told her to lie back and go to sleep, but the feelings stirring within her were too strong to be ignored. Grudgingly, she admitted they were not new. From the first, she’d been attracted to the stoic man beside her. She’d told herself she was taking the job with The Unit because she was bored with her current assignment and found Joe an interesting study. Now, she confessed she’d become his partner because being with him felt right. It was as if she’d been looking for him all her life. “Following that line of logic, a person should live for the present and forget about tomorrow’s consequences. Considering our line of work, that sounds like a reasonable attitude to take.”
“Go to sleep, Tess,” he ordered.
She heard the huskiness in his voice and the desire within her grew stronger. When her conservative side again tried to reason with her, tried to get her to obey his command, she argued that she could be dead this time tomorrow. “I don’t feel like sleeping.”
He shifted onto his side, to face her. “I don’t want anything to happen between us that you’ll regret.”
“My grandmother used to say that life is a process of collecting memories to look back on, to learn from or to savor or both. Lately, I’ve been feeling a little shortchanged in the ones I can look back on and savor.”
“Tomorrow could get rough.” Hesitantly, he traced the line of her jaw with his fingertip. “We should get some sleep.”
“To sleep, a person has to be able to relax and I’m going to need a little help for that,” she replied, moving closer to him.
“Are you certain?” he demanded gruffly.
“Very.” She’d never been this forward in her life. As their legs brushed and her hand came to rest on his chest, a surge of panic swept through her. Maybe this wasn’t so smart, her inner voice warned. Then his lips found hers and all doubt vanished.
This time the kiss was not hungry. That element was there. She sensed it. But it was controlled. He tasted her with coaxing little nibbles, trailing them over her lips, down her neck to her shoulder, then back to her lips.
With only this mild beginning, her breathing was already ragged and her senses completely awakened. She began to ease the T-shirt he was wearing upward, nearly desperate for the full feel of him. He paused and, sitting up, discarded the shirt. When he lay back down, he lifted her toward him until her upper torso was over his. The feel of his hard firm chest beneath hers ignited a fire so intense she could barely get her breath.
“You do feel good,” he said gruffly. His hands had traveled beneath her T-shirt and were working it upward. The temptation to sit up as he had and strip it off was strong but she was enjoying his touch too much. Lifting her arms, she allowed him to finish removing the garment. The effect was electric. She had removed her bra before trying to go to sleep. As the shirt came off, her soft curves molded to his hard ones.
“You feel good, too,” she said, her voice a husky whisper.
She had been slowly trailing her mouth upward from his chest to his face. As she met his lips she could feel a light curl upward in one corner and knew he was pleased. She smiled, too, and deepened the kiss.
“Time to get rid of a few more barriers,” he murmured.
Her breath sucked in with a tremor of delight as his hands caressed her abdomen in his search for the button on her camouflage pants. Straightening away from him, she knelt and unzipped the zipper. His gaze sultry with desire, he sat up and slid the pants down, his hands trailing along her hips. Lying back, she allowed him to complete the job. He worked slowly, kissing her newly exposed skin. When he nipped the inside of her thigh, she gasped with ecstasy and the fire within her grew so intense she was afraid of being consumed. Not yet, she ordered her body, but it seemed to have a mind of its own. As if he sensed he might be moving too fast, he nibbled on her knee and brought a giggle.
Her fire cooled just enough to allow her to remain in a state of heated anticipation.
“My turn,” she said as he reached her toes.
“I relinquish command to you,” he replied, lying back.
She had expected to feel mildly embarrassed. After all, she’d never undressed a man before. Instead, she found herself fascinated by the strength of his body and completely enjoying her work.
“I can’t hold off much longer,” he warned, as she discarded his pants.
She grinned at him. “I guessed that.”
He laughed lightly, then, turning her onto her back, he slowly mounted her.
She braced herself as he claimed her. She’d expected some pain. It came in one sharp jab.
He cursed under his breath. “You were a virgin,” he growled.
“And I would have hated to have died that way tomorrow and missed all this fun,” she replied. Her body, already forgetting the pain and allowing its primitive instincts to take control, had begun to move in a massaging rhythm against his.
A guttural groan of enjoyment issued from deep within him. “I suppose what is done is done,” he muttered. His hands fastened on her buttocks, adjusting the rhythm, then increasing it until she wanted to scream from pure pleasure.
“I never believed it could feel this way,” she admitted. Then her breath was taken away as an explosion of ecstasy shook her to the core.
With a growl of satisfaction, he joined her. Their bodies pulsed together as one, and she hoped this would never end. Even when he did leave her to lie beside her, she held on to the lingering sensations until finally, completely exhausted, her body insisted on relaxing.
Realizing he hadn’t spoken, she recalled his shock at discovering her virginity. He was probably trying to think of the words to apologize, and she didn’t want that. She kissed him lightly on the shoulder. “Thanks for a learning experience I will genuinely savor for a long time. Now I can get some sleep.” Shifting onto her stomach, she added a final, “Good night and thanks again.” Then she closed her eyes, signaling an end to any conversation.
For a long moment, she could feel him studying her. Then he issued a gruff, “Good night,” and too lay back and closed his eyes.
Beatrice jerked her mind back to the present. What had happened between her and Joe that night in the forest was ancient history. If he was alive, she would find him, tell him what a heel she thought he was for not facing her with the truth, and be on her way back to a life that did not include him.
Joe sat on the side of his cot, staring at the blank wall barely four feet in front of him. His expression was grim, his jaw set in a hard line.
For the past couple of days he’d been fed well and, although shackled hand and foot, had been allowed to go above for a couple of hours each morning and afternoon. He’d used these excursions to learn all he could about the fortress in which he was being held. He’d also learned that there was another captive in the dungeon. The guards never took both of their prisoners above at the same time, nor did they allow them to talk. But Joe had recognized his fellow inmate and knew he was a man he could depend on when the chance came for an escape. And there would be a chance, he assured himself for the umpteenth time. He never believed in giving up hope. That was what had kept him alive many times before.
But this time he had more than hope; he had anger born from a sense of betrayal that went to his very core. Since his treatment had improved, his guards had been more animated. They’d whispered among themselves and cast knowing looks his way. Last night he’d caught a name. Today, he’d heard it spoken again, along with other fragments of conversation that opened his eyes to a reality he didn’t want to face.
“I forgot my own rule,” he growled at himself. “Never trust anyone.” The words caused a bitter taste in his mouth.
Tess’s image filled his mind and his anger grew more intense. He had trusted her not only with his life but with his heart. No other woman had ever had such a hold on him. Giving her up had been like ripping a part of himself out. But when the opportunity had arisen to return her to a life where she was not risking death on a daily basis, for her sake and for his, he’d taken it. He’d felt guilt for having brought her into The Unit and even more guilty for having given in to his feelings for her. In hindsight, he’d admitted that even as they’d exchanged their vows, he’d known he was doing the wrong thing.
If she hadn’t left The Unit following his faked death, he would have resurfaced to protect her. But she had and he’d told hiniself he’d done the right thing.
Afterward there had been so many nights when he’d lain alone in his bed, remembering the feel of her, the scent of her perfume, her soft giggle with its curious quality of seductiveness. So many times, he’d wanted to hold her once more. Cynically he recalled that it was her image that had kept him sane during those first days of his captivity and torture.
Ironic, he thought, then tried not to think of her for a while.