I should’ve brought the gun after all.
Adrenaline ramped up Jackson’s heartbeat, had the tight muscle hammering in his chest. The new rush of raw energy catapulted him into fight-or-flight mode. That was the thing about fear: the right amount could help you. Made you think clearer, faster, got you ready to tackle anything that might come your way. But too much fear could cause you to make a mistake. At a time like now, that could be fatal.
“Don’t move,” Madeline ordered. Then she took off, darting to a new position.
Glancing around the tree to assess the situation, Jackson did his damnedest not to expose too much of his head and invite a bullet.
One of the guards noticed Madeline and aimed at her. She fired first, and the guard dropped to the grass, clutching his knee. Seconds later, she vanished behind a cluster of trees.
The unsuppressed report of her weapon was shockingly loud compared to the shots discharged from the guns with silencers. It would capture the attention of everyone at the party.
Four additional guards were already rushing down the lit path. They cut into the woods, charging toward the action.
He and Madeline were outnumbered. Outgunned. Outmaneuvered. Still, Jackson had to do something to help her. Even if it meant taking a bullet to keep her from getting hurt. He’d created this mess and had to make sure she got out of it unscathed.
Calculating his chances, he seized an opening and worked his way from tree to tree. Bullets snapped and pinged. One whizzed so close to his head, he was forced to duck back behind a large oak. But he refused to stop moving until he caught sight of Madeline.
She had put down a third guard, once more without killing him.
Jackson was in genuine awe of her skill and restraint.
A burly guard, tall and thick, circled around behind Madeline, trying to sneak up on her. Perhaps to shoot her in the back. Like a coward.
The hulking man was six-five and a solid 250 pounds of pure muscle.
Jackson couldn’t dodge a bullet. Nobody could. But one on one, in a tussle, Jackson could take him. Training, practice, size, all of it was a determining factor, but the key to a good fighter was natural ability. Quick reflexes and hand-eye coordination were two things Jackson had been born with. That didn’t even take into account the years of training his father had given him.
The huge guard maneuvered past two more trees, drawing closer. He lifted his weapon, sights trained on Madeline.
Jackson bolted forward and slid feetfirst into the shooter, his heels connecting with knee joints that bent sidewise in an unnatural way. Bullets rocketed up to the sky, and the guy fell on top of him. Jackson flipped them both over, putting the bruiser’s back to the ground. Without slowing for a second, Jackson slammed his forearm across the big man’s face, breaking his nose.
Scrambling to his feet, Jackson kicked the man’s weapon away.
Madeline had wounded a fourth man. Shot him in the shoulder. After disarming him, she grabbed him by the back of the collar and positioned him in front of herself, like a human shield. Her movements were quick and precise, but as smooth and practiced as a dance.
The remaining guards—Jackson counted three—closed in, focusing their aim on him.
“If you shoot him,” Madeline said, gesturing to Jackson, “I’ll make sure all of you are hospitalized.” Her eyes remained flat and cool. “Not merely stopped with a flesh wound. But hospitalized. As in requiring serious pain meds and physical therapy for a very long time.”
The guards exchanged glances and decided on taking defensive positions rather than pulling their triggers.
“Get your boss down here immediately,” Madeline said, flashing her badge. “Tell him Special Agent Madeline Striker would like to have a chat about his security protocol.”
One of the guards spoke into his mic, relaying the message.
Tension stretched between them during the nerve-racking standoff. Three guns against one. But it didn’t take long for Chuck to show his face. A couple of minutes tops, and he was strolling downhill with an entourage of security guards.
“I’m here, Agent Striker,” Chuck called from the illuminated path. “Would you and your cohort come out into the light for our little détente?”
“Move.” Madeline nudged the guard she still held in front of her forward.
The other guards backed up slowly, stopping once they reached the walkway.
“Boys, lower your weapons,” Chuck said, and they did as instructed.
Strolling closer, Chuck lifted his wrist to his mouth and whispered something. The lights along the path went from an amber glow to football-stadium wattage.
Madeline released the guard, stowed her gun in her purse and flashed her credentials in Chuck’s face.
With a glib smile, Chuck proffered his hand. “Special Agent Striker. Chuck Albrecht. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Madeline glared at his outstretched hand with barely contained fury. “I wish I could say likewise.”
Chuck’s gaze slid to Jackson and the weasel’s eyes narrowed. “Jackson Rhodes? Is that a wig and fake mustache you’re wearing?” He gestured to a guard, who promptly snatched the headpiece off Jackson. “Well, well, wonders never cease to amaze me. Did you put on this getup because you wanted to come tonight and see what my announcement was about, but were afraid to face me?”
This jerk was full of perpetual hot air. “My daughter is missing, you son of a bitch, and I needed to see if you were behind it. But I didn’t want the press to know that I was here. I don’t want to make the situation worse for Emma.”
Chuck held up the wig. Staring at it, he shivered as if disgusted. “This explains why I couldn’t find you after your invitation was scanned. Despite a thorough search.”
“What amazes me,” Madeline said, “is that your security personnel continued to fire their weapons at us after I identified myself clearly as a federal agent.”
A smug smile tugged at one corner of Chuck’s mouth. “How were my men supposed to know you were a legitimate FBI agent? Why would they believe you, considering the two of you were trespassing out here? I have every confidence that once they saw bona fide credentials they would have stopped shooting,” he said, holding that evil grin. “Do you have a warrant, Special Agent Striker? Probable cause? Because if you don’t, then your presence and search of this part of the premises is illegal. There’s a little thing called the Fourth Amendment.” He folded his arms. “My men are Russian mercenaries and have a strict ‘shoot first and ask questions later’ policy regarding trespassers. I don’t mess around when it comes to my intellectual property, and no one dares mess with what’s mine because of them. They had every right to open fire on intruders who broke into a restricted facility where I have tech worth billions. And I have every right to contact your supervisor and demand your badge. This stunt you two pulled is highly irregular, not to mention against the law.”
Everything Chuck had said was true. Madeline didn’t have a legal leg to stand on and what made it worse, Jackson had been the one to put her in that position.
“I believe your grievance is with me, Chuck,” Jackson said, wanting to draw the slick bastard’s line of fire away from Madeline. “I needed to know what you were working on.”
“Curiosity killed the cat,” Chuck said.
Clenching his jaw, Jackson gritted his teeth. “I had to see if what was inside that building was similar to my tech that was destroyed at my Duwamish site.”
“Oh!” Chuck threw his head back and barked a laugh. “As if I might have been the one who blew up your facility and kidnapped your daughter. You thought me that desperate.” He rolled his eyes. “Hopefully after tonight you’ve come to your senses and realized that I don’t have to snatch your kid, destroy your tech and strong-arm you into resigning to beat you. Because I’m smarter and better than you and have two things you never will.”
Jackson didn’t ask the obvious question. He waited for the answer instead.
“Prodigious talent and ruthless ambition,” Chuck said. “I was willing to put my own father out to pasture to get ahead since the old man was holding me back.”
As if that was something to be proud of.
“And I have two things you don’t,” Jackson said. “A light touch and a tight grip. Step a little closer—I’ll show you.”
Chuck quirked an eyebrow and backed up. “I’m signing a ten-billion-dollar contract with the DOD on Monday for my self-driving tanks. The only thing you have on me is about ten inches in height and those pretty-boy features. But I don’t need that with my genius, money and talent. I truly do hope you find your daughter and take your job back at ETC. Do you want to know why?” A nasty grin spread across his face. “So I can have the satisfying pleasure of outperforming you. Every. Single. Quarter.” Chuck had the nerve to wink at him. “Look, to show I’m sincere about hoping your daughter is returned safely to you, I’m going to have my guards show you the back way out, so you don’t have to face the paparazzi without your disguise. I will not be held responsible for making things worse for Emma.”
“Is this professional courtesy, one CEO to another?” Jackson asked.
More hearty laughter from Chuck grated on Jackson’s nerves. “You’re no longer a CEO. Remember? You resigned. Consider this a favor. Now you owe me, and the thought of you being in my debt puts a smile on my face.”
The guards escorted them to the eastside exit, which was clear of snooping photographers, where Jackson’s car met them.
On the drive back to his house, Madeline didn’t look at him. Didn’t say a single word. He could feel her justified anger, simmering below her calm exterior, but he decided it was best to wait to talk behind closed doors in the privacy of his home instead of giving the driver free entertainment.
Not that he was sure what to say.
The air in the car seethed with tension.
He was furious with himself. For not getting any closer to finding Emma’s kidnapper and bringing her home. For his unethical plan backfiring. For endangering Madeline.
For not being able to erase from his mind that kiss he’d shared with her.
Suddenly, he could think of nothing else but the press of her lips against his mouth, her arms wrapped around him, her body molded to his, the wild heat flashing between them as natural and dangerous as lightning in a storm.
Shifting in the seat, he wished he could wipe out those images, forget the vivid sensations that had taken hold of him. But every time he glanced at her mouth, let his gaze trail down her bare arm, took in her scent with each inhale, they came flooding back.
The driver turned into the driveway and stopped the car. He and Madeline got out. Slammed the doors. Marched inside the house.
“Good old Chuck had it right, you know,” she said before they’d made it out of the foyer. “What I did with you tonight was illegal. Do you have any idea what that could have meant to my career?”
He pressed on down the hall. “I know how much your job means to you. How important it is.” He stalked into his bedroom, ripped off the fake mustache and shed his jacket. “I didn’t want to make you complicit—that’s why I asked you to wait for me at the main building. To protect you.”
“It’s my job to protect you. Not the other way around. Danger is a part of my career description, not recklessness. How could I wait for you at the main building while you ran off into the night to do only God knows what? You should have trusted me with the details of your plan. Given me a chance to think it through. But instead of working with me, like you promised, you went rogue. Again. And compromised me in the process.”
“If had told you, you would’ve tried to stop me.”
Her beautiful brown eyes blazed. “From trespassing? From breaking the law? Hell, yes.”
Jackson stormed into the bathroom. Madeline followed.
Turning on the faucet, he gathered his thoughts and tried to squelch the emotion raging inside him.
“There are rules for a reason,” she said. “Limits and constraints serve a purpose. If we had found any evidence in that building, it would have been inadmissible.”
“But any evidence, inadmissible or not, might have led me to my daughter.” He splashed water on his face and scrubbed the adhesive off his skin. “Sometimes you have to do the wrong thing for the right reason. If we hadn’t, then we’d still be wasting time looking into Chuck. Spinning our wheels. Right?” He dragged a towel over his face and tossed it on the counter. Removing his tie, he brushed past her going back into his bedroom. “I had to get in there to see for myself. To be one hundred percent certain. Now we know he wasn’t involved.”
She was right on his heels. “If Albrecht decides to report me to the Bureau, I could be suspended.”
He faced her, regretting that he’d put her at risk in any manner, professionally or physically. That had never been his intention.
“Fear is a powerful thing,” he said. “Most people try to move away from fear, do what they can to alleviate it. Me? I lean into it, harness it so that I can make it work for me instead of against me. That’s how I thrived in my father’s house, with his expectations and high standards and efforts to tear me down so that he could rebuild me stronger. To this day, I still live my life leaning into the fear, heeding it, listening to it. Not running away from it.”
Madeline stepped closer. “How does that have anything to do with what happened tonight?”
“The day Emma was kidnapped, I didn’t listen to it. This is one of my worst nightmares come to life. Losing Emma in plain sight. It’s the reason I don’t take her to amusement parks, malls, parades. I should’ve listened and brought Liane instead of worrying about my image. Since Emma has been gone, there’s this knot in the pit of my stomach.” A cold fist squeezing his gut sometimes to the point where he couldn’t breathe. “Tonight, fear of missing an opportunity to discover the truth, to find Emma, drove me to do what I did. You’re living proof that not all children who are taken are rescued. I couldn’t choose not to take action when I had the power to do something. I’m sorry I dragged you into it.”
“You made me look unprofessional out there,” she said, soft and low, the furious wall she’d thrown up cracking and crumbling. “Worse, you made me feel like a fool. I trusted you, Jack.”
The hurt he’d caused her was unmistakable, making him even more furious with himself, but it wasn’t lost on him that the vulnerability she had dared show him was a precious gift.
He brushed his knuckles across her cheek, and she pulled her face away.
“Say that again,” he whispered.
Confusion clouded her expression. “What?”
“My name. Say my name like that again.” He touched her cheek once more, sliding his hand around, cupping the back of her neck.
This time, she didn’t pull away.
As his grip on her tightened, she softened against him. She lifted a hand between them and put her palm to his chest. Whether to shove him back or bring him closer, he wasn’t sure. He closed his fingers over her wrist, and she only stood there, staring at him, trembling.
“Jack,” she said softly.
He lowered his mouth close to hers until an inch separated them and he held her gaze. “You’re not a fool, Madeline, anything but.”
The dark promise of a kiss hovered there, had the breath backing up in his lungs and his pulse throbbing hard and heavy.
There were times when he negotiated to get something. And there were times when he simply took. This was entirely different.
If they started, there would be no stopping. So in this, she had the power, and he was at her mercy. Despite how much he ached to abandon control and release the stress of the past few days, and just ravage.
“I’m bound by rules,” she said, “and can’t indulge myself in every reckless whim.”
Were they still talking about AlbrechTech? “To hell with the rules, so long as you make it count when you break them.”
Her mouth captured his then, her arms going around his neck, her fingers sliding into his hair. His kiss was ruthless, his mouth never leaving hers, but she was equally wild and hungry.
With nothing more than a kiss, she held him captive. This craving he had for her went far beyond chemistry. Beyond lust. Beyond his control.
Raw desire unlike anything he’d ever experienced surged through him. Blood pounded in his loins. He backed her to the wall beside the bed. She ripped his shirt open, sending popped buttons to the floor, and held him tighter.
This amazing woman had so much passion buried deep inside her and he wanted to unearth all of it.
She ran her hands over his chest, her fingers caressing, exploring. The brutal ache that had started deep inside him now swelled. He swallowed the groan that rose in his throat, but when Madeline whimpered, rubbing herself against him, the dam broke.
He wrenched the front of her dress down with one forceful tug and took in her beauty, her skin gleaming in the moonlight. “You’re gorgeous. So gorgeous you take my breath away.”
Cupping her breast, he reveled in the heavenly weight in his palm. Suckled a pert nipple. Slipped a hand through the convenient slit of her dress and found that hot button of nerves just beneath lace. Moaning, she arched against him. He tore off her panties and placed his palm firmly on the smooth mound between her thighs.
Her breath hissed out. “Yes. I want you.”
He slid his fingers into her, his groan melding with hers at the feel of her—wet, hot, tight. Desire coiled deeper inside him, snaking through him, gathering with the force of a storm. He wanted far more. Needed to be inside her like he needed air to breathe.
As if reading his mind, feeling the same hot desperation, she unbuckled his pants and lowered his zipper. Her warm hand closed around him, stroking the length of him. He yanked the hem of her dress up. She spread her thighs, giving him access that he capitalized on without a second of delay. He thrust his hips deeper, and she guided him home.
Everything melted away in the exquisite point of connection.
Their eyes locked on each other as the pleasure spread from the place where they were joined. It was then it struck him that they were still clothed except for the most intimate parts of their bodies.
He lifted her and in one fluid motion, turned and brought them down onto the bed.
Wild for her, he pressed his mouth to hers as he rocked into her, all his finesse evaporating. Her hands raced over him as she pumped her hips, driving him faster.
The need for release was fierce. All-consuming. Somewhere along the way, he lost his mind. Primitive instinct had taken over. His body was completely in charge. Nothing existed but Madeline, her sweet scent, the uncontrollable urge to plunge deeper, the ferocious need to satisfy the clawing hunger.
Madeline dug her nails into his back and clenched around him, coming undone beneath him.
With a guttural sound tearing from his lips, he quickly followed and the tension burst, setting him free.
BREATHLESS, MADELINE TRIED to recover as her skin rippled with the aftershocks of pleasure. Everything was a blur of heat and passion.
“Madeline.” He rolled, bringing them onto their sides, and crushed her to him, pressing his damp face into the curve of her neck.
They stayed that way, chests heaving, clinging to each other until the haze cleared and reality dawned.
What on earth had she done?
Panic set in as she stilled.
All effort to maintain emotional distance had failed. Miserably. One minute they had been arguing. The next, he had touched her. Then they’d kissed, and desire had spread like a wildfire through tinder-dry brush.
That had been more than sex. A tangling of emotion with the physical. An assault of the senses that had stripped her bare. A release.
She hadn’t thought, not for an instant. If she had, she would have heard that little voice inside her head telling her that she was breaking all the rules. She had crossed a personal Rubicon and there was no going back.
With every second that passed, she sensed him withdrawing, the connection between them slipping further away as his arms fell from her body and he lay on his back.
All the warmth receded into a marked chill.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out, her voice so small she wasn’t sure if he’d heard her.
But she glanced at him. Saw the soul-deep sadness etched on his face.
Her throat tightened. “That was a mistake,” she muttered, needing to be the first one to say it. She tugged her dress up over her breasts and rearranged the rest of the fabric down over her hips, covering her legs. “I shouldn’t have—”
“It takes two. This was more my fault than yours.”
Fault. Corroboration this had been a mistake. Her heart pinched. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “This was wrong.”
“I don’t regret it, but...”
She waited on pins and needles for him to finish. He didn’t.
There really wasn’t anything to say. She had taken an inappropriate step, lost control without thinking about any of the repercussions.
Goodness, they hadn’t even used a condom.
“You don’t have to say anything,” she said, her face growing hot from a different sort of heat. “I understand.”
Jackson reached up, slipped his hand around the nape of her neck, bringing her closer, and kissed her softly. The stroke of his tongue into her mouth soothed the sting of his silence but didn’t lessen her embarrassment.
“I do need to say it because you don’t understand, Madeline. I barely understand it. You’re everything I could want in a partner. Beautiful. Brilliant. Sexy. Independent. Full of guts.”
But...that word and everything else he’d neglected to say echoed in her head. Loud and clear. He didn’t need to explain his feelings or justify his actions. He was hurting, a parent stuck in one of the worst situations imaginable. While she was supposed to be the professional, his anchor getting him through this.
He looked into her eyes. “What happened between us wasn’t wrong, but the timing was. I don’t have the bandwidth to think about exploring a relationship. Not while Emma is missing. I feel guilty enough that I enjoyed myself with you just now.”
Oh, God. That’s what he thought. Jackson was fantastic when he wasn’t infuriating her by going rogue. He was the kind of guy worth diving into a relationship with and taking a chance on to see if the fairy tale was possible, but she didn’t want him to think that she was foolish enough to have any hope for something more between them.
The idea that he did set every internal rhythm haywire, had her heart and lungs battling for room inside her chest. “You needed comfort.” Perhaps they both had. “That’s all this was,” she said, the words leaving her mouth in a rush. “A lovely distraction with no strings attached. No expectations. I promise.”
He lifted up on his forearm and stared down at her. “So you took pity on me.”
It would have been easier if the answer had been yes. “No. Adrenaline collided head-on with attraction.” Electrifying attraction that neither of them could resist. “We slipped up. Gave in to a moment of weakness.” One stupid, reckless moment. Nothing more.
“You’re right. I couldn’t stop myself from touching you.” He brushed the back of his hand across her cheek and swallowed so hard it was audible. “Didn’t want to because I needed you. I’ve never wanted anyone like that. I’m ashamed to admit that I still want you.”
That made two of them. The ache deep inside her for him hadn’t subsided either.
Madeline sat up. “I can call Nick or Dash and see if one of them is available to stay at the house with you tonight.”
“I’d prefer if you didn’t.” The expression on his face turned heartbreaking. “But I’d hate for things between us to become awkward.”
He was worried this would further cloud her judgment, that she might hold some grudge against him.
“It won’t become awkward,” she said, her voice confident despite the truth of how she felt. “We can be adults about this.”
He took her hand in his. “Stay. In here tonight. I don’t want you to leave. I know that must sound selfish.”
Madeline drew in a deep, heavy breath filled with the scent of him that made her throb with a yearning for more than she ever would admit.
“It sounds honest.” Honesty she respected, even when it hurt, but if she stayed, they’d have sex again, this time without their clothes on. Having this conversation all over again in the bitter light of day would be ten times worse. She needed to scrape together whatever dignity she had left and get out of his bed. “I’ll stay. In the guest room. Things need to go back exactly as they were. Good night.” She pulled her hand away and scrambled down the hall as quickly as possible.
She shut the door of the guest room, leaned against it and squeezed her eyes closed. She could smell him on her, that intoxicating fragrance printed on her skin.
Her heart was still fluttering in her chest, aching though it shouldn’t. She cursed her reaction to him. Her stupidity for getting too close.
A nice hot shower—or rather a cold one—and a good night’s sleep would clear her head. In the morning, she’d tackle the day fully focused and get back on track.
No more distractions.