Acceptable Risks (20 page)

“So my massage in your weight room…”

“Lit me up.” His hands settled on her hips, and she leaned her hands on his chest to hold herself upright. “I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.”

“You!” She sat back. “I came, fully clothed,
without
RT-24. You were just, um, extra passionate.”

He stared, wishing he could see her expression in the darkness. Didn’t she realize what had happened? She ground her hips against his erection, and he didn’t have the strength to hold her still. Desire burned through him, intense but not yet overwhelming. He arched a little and grunted against his will.

“I was a little more than extra passionate.” His voice came out deeper, rougher. He was losing it, all his normal controls falling apart. “I needed you. Badly enough to take it if you’d tried to resist.” The images flashed through his head, taking it but not against her will. His erection grew, need pounding in his chest, his ears, his groin. He savored it even while he tried to fight, only vaguely aware that he should. But it had been so damned long, and Lark—

She shook her head and leaned forward again, further now, her weight bearing down on her hands, nearly blinding him with the pleasure of it.

“No. You wouldn’t have. I trust you,” she murmured, her mouth an inch away from his. She whispered something else, but he couldn’t hear it and then her mouth was on his again, and he lost all ability to think.

Her hair fell forward against his face. It didn’t hurt, but wasn’t pleasant, either. He brushed it back with his palms and bunched it, holding it to the back of her head.

“Sorry,” she said between kisses.

“It’s okay.” He pulled her down tighter and opened her mouth with his, tasting the inside of her mouth, stroking her tongue. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, making him groan again, and he swallowed it, conscious of Nils in the other room. The walls were thick, the acoustics muffling, but he didn’t want to risk the jerk hearing anything going on in here. When his free hand slid up under Lark’s tank to cup her breast, he caught her own moan with his mouth and then pulled back enough to say, “Shhh.”

She quieted, but still made noises in the back of her throat that inflamed him from the inside. She pushed his shirt up and he levered his upper body to yank it over his head. Then he was lost, as her roaming hands spread pleasure over every inch of his torso. God, she’d learned quickly, the pressure perfect. For his part he kept his mouth on her, his hands on her breasts, tasting and feeling everything he could reach. He was hard enough to burst again, and this time there wasn’t a shower handy.

“Lark, sweetheart,” he breathed, trying to slow her down. But she bit the side of his neck, and he came up off the bed in blind ecstasy. In seconds he’d flipped her, stripped off his jeans and hers, and positioned himself over her. She opened to him, wet and hot and ready, and it took everything he had, dredged from way down deep, not to plunge into her. “I don’t have anything,” he grit out, his eyes, jaw, and every muscle clenched tight, trying to hold on to control.

“I don’t care.” Lark lifted her hips and pulled at his with both hands. “I need you, Jason, now.” She said something under her breath again, something he couldn’t and probably didn’t want to hear, but he realized he shouldn’t have started this. Not when it was too dangerous to finish it.

Sanity poked a few holes in the waves of need. “Do you know what your father will do to me if I get you pregnant?”

She laughed softly. “He’ll give you a cigar. He’s dying for grandchildren, you know.”

Jason didn’t believe her. Even if she was right, he knew it wouldn’t be that easy, for any of them. An image of Lark, pregnant and laughing with her hand on her belly, flashed through his head. Instead of panic it inspired longing of a completely different sort, and he pumped his hips once before jerking back. “I can’t, Lark. I can’t do that to you. To make that decision now, when we’re not thinking clearly.”

Lark smoothed her hands down his arms just right, not painfully light, not ecstatically hard. “I know you’re right, for so many reasons, but we can’t stop. We can make it work. Sex,” she hastened to add. “It doesn’t have to hurt.”

God, right now, it did anything but. A burst of inspiration flared in his brain. “Wait.” He jumped off the bed and stood for a second, trying to remember exactly where it had been left. He refused to think about who’d left it and why.

“What are you doing?” Lark asked from the bed.

“Looking for…” He knelt and felt under the bed, all along the side, then around the bottom, careful to avoid the soft brush of the dangling sheet. Nothing. Dammit. He moved around to the other side and encountered a dusty pair of boots and a broken halter. He was nearly to the top of the bed and about to despair when his hand hit the wood box. “Yes!” He pulled it out and flipped up the top, reaching inside and encountering, as he’d hoped, at least a dozen flat, square packets. “We’re in business.” He grabbed a couple and climbed back onto the bed.

“Where did—”

“Don’t ask.” He made sure she wouldn’t by kissing her again, pressing her back on the bed. She held him more and more tightly, her hands igniting a raging fire. The pressure grew and he rolled on top of her. They touched from chest to toes.

“Please, Jason, now.” She arched, her mouth open in a silent cry. “God, I need you.”

“Me, too. Hold on, sweetheart.” He tore a packet open with his teeth and rolled the condom on one-handed, keeping his body close to hers, letting the knuckles of his hand rub her. She gasped and pressed up against him. For a moment he thought about using his mouth to make her come first, but then she grabbed his cock in her fist, hard, and pleasure shot through him, an orgasm without being a real orgasm. He pressed toward her, letting her use him to spread her moisture and ease his entry. As soon as she let go he pressed deep, hard, as far as he could. She took all of him, then shifted and lifted her knees so she could take even more. Her thighs brushed his hips, the flare of pain making him gasp, and she instantly tightened her legs.

“God, Lark, you feel incredible.”

“So do you.” She wrapped her arms around his back and lifted her hips.
“Jason
.
”

“I know.” He slid both arms under her and cradled her body to his, then began to thrust. Lark turned her head to let his shoulder muffle her cries. Her entire body tensed as she clutched him tighter. Her heels came around and dug into the backs of his legs, and he was lost.

The explosion went on forever. Colored lights swirled behind his eyes. His brain had disintegrated, and every nerve ending in his body vibrated. He couldn’t breathe, but his lungs and sinuses were full of the taste and smell of Lark, and he knew, however physical the stimulation was, he’d never feel this way with any other woman.

Chapter Seventeen

Gabby’s new situation wasn’t any better than her old one. After John had forced Matthew back down into the cellar, he’d carried her through a doorway into another room. Another existence, really. The cellar itself was under a single room of a larger cabin. The space had been dimmer and warmer, furnished in heavy chairs and tables and sharing the space with what appeared, as John sped through, to be a well-built kitchen. But the room John took her to ended up being nearly as cold and damp as the cellar.

The twin-sized bed had a very thin mattress. Each rope that supported it was torture to her aching body. She didn’t know if she’d actually become sick or only convinced her body she had, but she hurt all over. Her eyes burned, her head felt fuzzy, and every time she moved, the space around her swirled.

John tried. He covered her with another of the scratchy wool blankets and fed her water and lukewarm soup. He also made her take a couple of tablets he said were ibuprofen, but they weren’t helping yet.

“I think you’d better call Isaac,” she told John.

“No.”

“He’s going to—”

“Be here soon. He’ll deal with you then.”

That was the plan. Despite her trust in Matthew, though, Gabby shivered in dread. In books and movies, plans never worked out. And if this one didn’t, failure could be deadly.

* * *

Matthew stood motionless outside the cabin, hidden by a couple of riotous azaleas and listening through the window he’d managed to crack open from the outside. Gabby sounded weak and scared. He wanted to bust in, overpower John and get her out of there.

Immediately after he’d dropped down into the pit, while John was thumping out of the room above, he’d gotten to work. His quick scan of the room above had showed all exterior walls except the side that led into the main building. He’d picked the side opposite the main entry and started digging with the largest shards of the smashed basin. The dirt had been well packed but not hard, and soon he’d dug a sloping hole to the outside, just at the edge of the bottom of the wall. After that, it had been a small matter to reconnoiter the building. Main living room/kitchen in the center, two tiny bedrooms on the other side with a bathroom in between. He’d been positioned outside Gabby’s room since, listening.

And thinking, in the long periods when there was nothing to hear. His ability to focus on the job seemed to have departed in the years he’d been mostly out of the field, and his mind kept wandering. Thinking about Kelly, and Gabby, and his relationship with Lark. About how the loneliness after Kelly’s death had faded, or seemed to, as he filled his life with his daughter and his business and his friendship. He’d tried dating exactly twice. The company had been engaging but nothing special, and the sex boring. He’d decided he just didn’t need it.

Now, though, since Jason’s “death” and the crumbling of Hummingbird, at least around the edges, things were different. The loneliness was more acute, his needs more apparent every minute he spent with Gabby.

The sound of wheels on gravel reached him from the other side of the cabin. The sky had lightened enough for Matthew to be able to see the bushes and trees and open ground more clearly, but as the sun began to rise, birdcalls and squirrel chirps also grew in volume. Matthew cursed under his breath. He wouldn’t be able to hear as well.

There was a car door slam. Just one. Then a voice calling to John. He couldn’t tell for sure if it was Isaac. After that, silence. He turned and lifted himself enough to peer into the bedroom. Gabby was alone on the bed, her eyes on the window. As soon as she saw him, she shook her head. Matthew dropped back to the ground with a smile. She’d read his mind and was telling him not to rescue her yet. He hated leaving her there when he had the perfect opportunity to get her out, but the plan could work. He had to give her a chance.

He slid along the wall to the living room section of the cabin. The early morning cacophony in the woods masked the sound of the voices inside. The ground rose a little higher here. He could stand next to the window and peek inside with less risk of being seen. Two men stood in the center of the room, but the glare of the outside light reflected wrong, and Matthew couldn’t see faces. He had to get a better position.

By the time he’d climbed silently to the roof and determined that the chimney perfectly funneled conversation to him, the men had moved Gabby to the living room and were badgering her. The other voice was definitely Isaac’s.

“I don’t believe for a second that you’re sick,” he was saying. Measured footsteps paced the wooden floor. “What’s Madrassa up to?”

Gabby somehow made her voice sound weak, yet strong enough to carry to Matthew. “I don’t know. I was pretty out of it down there.”

“Bullshit.”

Silence for a minute, then John said, “She’s awfully clammy. And pale.”

“She’s always pale,” Isaac snapped, but he didn’t sound certain.

“How would you know?” Gabby asked reasonably. “We don’t know each other.”

Isaac snorted. “I’m sure you know all about me. Or at least as much as Madrassa was willing to reveal. He wouldn’t have admitted his role in the fiasco that cost me my job.”

Matthew shook his head. Talk about revisionist history.

“What do you want with me?” Gabby asked piteously. “I’m really not feeling well.”

“I wasn’t amused by your trick with the flash drive.”

“So you said. I told you, I must have grabbed the wrong one. But instead of letting me go back to the lab to get it—”

“Shut up.” More pacing, then silence. “Where’s your ID card?”

There was a moment’s hesitation Matthew hoped they didn’t notice. “In my purse,” Gabby reluctantly said.

“It wasn’t there.”

“That’s where I keep it.”

“I said, it wasn’t there.”

Now Gabby sounded annoyed when she said, “Then I guess you lost it, didn’t you?”

Again with the pacing, then, “How much of the RT-24 formula can you remember?”

Gabby laughed. “None. I didn’t develop it. I just applied it.”

“But you’re a research scientist.”

“I’m a doctor who tended a patient. Whatever you want to do with that formula, I won’t be able to help you.”

No, don’t say that
. Matthew wasn’t sure how far Kemmerling would go if he decided Gabby was unnecessary, especially now that she was a witness to a whole series of crimes.

But she wasn’t done. “On the other hand, Nils said you wanted information on Jason’s condition.”

“Why would I want that?” Isaac’s voice was tight, as if he wasn’t happy with Nils. Matthew held his breath. This might lead Kemmerling to reveal the information they needed—such as what the hell he was trying to do.

“I don’t know.” Gabby sounded weary. “I’m not supposed to understand your motives.”

“Do you have information on Jason’s condition? Or are you just trying to buy time?”

“I have a feeling it would be dangerous to lie to you.”

“Damned right, it would be.”

“I was his doctor. Of course I have information.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

Matthew had to stifle a chuckle. He’d never seen this side of Gabby. She was reacting to Isaac with strength and confidence she’d never displayed around him.

Then he heard a slap and a muffled cry. Dammit. They’d gambled that Kemmerling wouldn’t resort to violence, but they’d gambled wrong. He had to get her out now.

From his vantage point on top of the building, he could see down the drive to the main road, which wasn’t that far. But they were still surrounded by woods and probably little civilization, wherever they were. There was only one car parked in the clearing. Isaac must have left John here with no transportation. The car was a newer model, fancy. Hotwiring it probably would take more time than Matthew would have. He’d have to incapacitate Isaac and get his keys, and he didn’t think John would stand idly by while he did. This was going to take very tricky timing.

His urgency increased a hundredfold at the next words out of Isaac’s mouth.

“Go get Madrassa.”

* * *

Gabby was trying, she really was, but she had to admit it. She was a total wuss.

Tears streamed down her stinging cheek, and she tasted blood. The slap hadn’t been that hard, she supposed, but it didn’t take much to hurt a pansy like her. What tears didn’t exit her eyes burned the back of her throat, and nausea climbed up to meet them.

Isaac hadn’t bothered to tie her. She should make a run for it, before John discovered that Matthew wasn’t in the cellar. There was the door, not even shut tightly. But where would she go? She was so weak, holding her head up took all her energy.

She’d failed.

“I don’t understand,” she forced out, her words sounding slurred. “You want revenge against Hummingbird, and Matthew, I get that. How will this do it?”

“You want me to reveal my evil plan, huh?” Isaac shrugged. “Let me see…” He tapped his finger against his chin. “No!” He glared out into the empty room. “What’s taking so long?”

John didn’t answer. Isaac stalked to the doorway. Gabby frantically tried to think of a way to rile Isaac, to make him spit out something he had no intention of saying.

“It must be difficult, being the weaker man. Being outsmarted by those two, and even the daughter. She’s got no training, and she bested you.”

Isaac narrowed his eyes. “Lark didn’t best me. Templeton got the drop on me. I had no idea at the time that he was well enough to travel, never mind fight.”

Encouraged, she continued. “But they’ve all been one step ahead of you this whole time. Matthew knew that woman was up to something. He let you take him.”

Isaac froze as he was about to step through into the other room. “What?”

She wasn’t sure how happy Matthew would be about her revealing this, but if it kept him from discovering too soon that he was out of the cellar, she didn’t care.

“Yeah, he let her stick him. And then he put hints in the message she made him record.” He’d finally told her, during their planning, what had happened when he was captured. It had made her feel better that he actually
had
allowed it rather than gotten taken by surprise, though she supposed it would be better to let her hero worship die and just see him as a regular man.

“What hints?” Isaac’s voice had tightened again.

“That he’d been taken, that there was a traitor inside Hummingbird, stuff like that.”

Isaac cursed and paced in front of the doorway.
Hurry, Matthew
. John had already been gone long enough to discover he was missing. If he didn’t make his move soon…

“I don’t get why me,” she said. “And why Jason?”

Isaac whirled on her, his face mottled. “Jason was the one who put the censure in my permanent file. Who demoted me from lead agent and made sure I got non-essential assignments. He damaged the whole trajectory of my career.”

“And now he must pay?”

Isaac’s face relaxed and he laughed. “Yeah. He must—”

He never saw it coming. Gabby barely registered the figure flying out of the bedroom and tackling the shorter man to the floor. Matthew grabbed the back of Isaac’s head by the hair, knocked his forehead on the floor, and dropped his limp body to the wood planks. Gabby struggled to her feet before Matthew turned to her, his hand held out, his body moving toward the door.

“We didn’t get enough,” she protested, letting him pull her behind him since her feet weren’t cooperating on their own.