Around-the-Clock Protector (10 page)

“Dammit, Ava,” he whispered as he leaned in and brushed her lips with his.

Like a dam breaking, liquid fire washed through him in a torrent. He deepened the kiss, listening to the uneven sound of her breathing.

He ended the kiss and rocked back, staring at her for a moment before running his hand over his head as he tried to corral his outlaw thoughts.

He stood up, reluctantly putting distance between them.

Ava braced herself, mesmerized by the depth of desire she’d felt move through her body. If there had been any doubt they’d been together before, it vanished in that instant.

She stared at him from across the room. If only her memory would substantiate what her body already seemed to know.

“Where do I sleep?” She tried to slow her pounding heart rate, to sound casual, but her voice quivered.

“You take the bedroom. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

She turned away from him, afraid to give voice to the feelings and sensations stirring in her blood. It was safer to retreat. Safer to squash the emotions that would only lead to trouble with a man like Carson Nash. A man with a secret life and no room for a woman and child.

“Good night,” she whispered as she went into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

C
ARSON TRIED TO FOCUS
as he dialed the number for the Lazy-B, his lifeline to information.

The feel of Ava in his arms was still fresh, even though she’d gone to bed over an hour ago.

“Clandestine Pizza.”

“I’d like a large sausage and mushroom to go.”

“That’ll be twenty minutes.”

“Can you make it ten?” Carson waited for the call to be routed and relaxed when he heard Agent Nick Shelby on the other end of the line.

“Marathon. Where the hell are you? The director has been in overdrive trying to locate you and the package.”

“There’s been a development with the mission.”

“Do you want me to pass that along?”

“Negative. I’ll take care of it myself. I need info tonight.” He felt wary as he considered the trouble he might bring down on his team, but he had to know what was going on.

“Go ahead, Marathon.”

“What can you find on the name Hinshaw? Limit your search to the eastern seaboard, D.C. and the surrounding areas. Archives, too, at least six months back.”

“Copy that.” The click of computer keys rattled over the phone line.

Carson pulled in a breath, hoping the name meant something and they’d get a hit.

“There was a story March tenth in the
Boston
Globe
. MIT student Jerome Hinshaw disappeared outside of his Pacific Street dorm. No one has seen or heard from him since March first. The local police are investigating.”

“Does it say what his field of expertise is?”

“He was a top-notch student working on research involving satellite technology. That’s it.”

Carson considered the implications of the information. “Fax me a picture of him ASAP.”

“I’ll see what I can find. What’s the number?”

Carson rattled off the number to his secure landline.

“FYI. I’ll probably be declared rogue in the a.m. Don’t buy a word of it.”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a second. “Hate to tell you, but it’s a done deal.”

Carson sucked in a breath and let it out. The wheels of the spy world turned quickly. “Who gave the order?”

“The director. You’re to be taken alive along with your package.”

Regret burned into him. He’d been declared by his own director, he only hoped he could patch up his reputation when this whole thing was over.

“Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll be in touch.” He hung up the telephone. He needed to be prepared for the worst.

Rogue could spell death. He’d become a marked man, a target for any CIA personnel who wanted to take a crack at him. But it was Ava he worried about the most, and the child inside her.

His child.

Carson maneuvered the car through light traffic and braked at a stoplight. The fourth of July holiday had come on a weekday and things were at a standstill.

“You look good this morning.” He glanced over at Ava, noting the pink in her cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes.

“I slept like a baby. Something I haven’t done for a while.”

The light changed.

He accelerated. “How did you survive in Seattle for four months?”

“I know I spent some time in motels for a couple of weeks after I got off the airplane. I had receipts in my pockets. Then my cash ran out. I suppose it took the Agency a couple of weeks to discover I wasn’t killed in the crash and less time for the Russians, considering the plane went down in the
Bering Strait in their airspace. Not long after that they started to hunt me. I survived in the streets until the Russians found me.”

“I’m betting the GPS wasn’t activated until after you arrived in Seattle and the plane went down. When your body wasn’t recovered from the wreckage, that’s when the GPS was activated and you were discovered. What made you get off the plane in the first place?”

“I knew something had happened. I remembered getting into the limo. The next thing I remembered I was leaving my seat for the lavatory on board the jet. I also knew I’d recently been with someone.” She stared over at him. “A woman knows these things.”

Carson’s heart slammed into his ribs as he recalled the night in question with too much clarity. “You looked up at me just before you got into the car. Do you remember?”

“Looking up, yes. At you. No.” Her cheeks flamed hot and pink.

He reached over and touched her hand. “It was consensual, Ava. I’d never force a woman to do anything she didn’t want to do.”

A chill quaked inside her as she considered the information. Making love with Carson that night had saved her life. If it had never happened, she would have stayed on the plane that crashed. She’d be dead now.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I thought
I’d been slipped a roofie because I couldn’t remember that night. I planned to go to the authorities in Seattle.” She looked over at him. “I’m glad I was wrong.”

“Me, too,” he said.

She fought the urge to touch him and turned back, staring at the road ahead. “None of that explains the microchip I’ve got under my skin.”

“We’ll get answers once we get to the doctor’s office and he removes it. I’ll have it analyzed, find out what’s on it. The information could lead us in the right direction.”

“I hope so. Carrying a foreign body around with me isn’t my idea of fun, especially when agents with knives want to remove it so badly they’re willing to do anything.”

“I contacted a member of my team last night. The name Hinshaw belongs to an MIT student, Jerome Hinshaw. He disappeared around the same time you got on the plane.”

She worked the timeline in her head. “He could have been in the car that morning. Maybe that’s where I heard the name.” Her heart rate sped up, her throat tightened. “Have they found him?”

“Still missing.”

Was that the stressor that had put her over the edge? Had she witnessed Jerome Hinshaw’s demise in the back of the limo?

Fear stirred her thoughts and she prayed it wasn’t
true. Even though she knew it would explain some things, it didn’t explain her loss of memory or the reason behind it.

Ava stared out the car window, trying to alleviate her fear. Carson was next to her. He’d protect her—she knew that now.

Carson turned into the clinic parking lot and pulled around back. Doc’s red BMW was sitting in its parking space behind the building.

“He’s here. Let’s get this done.” He climbed out of the car and walked around to Ava’s side. He opened the car door and helped her out.

Her once-pink cheeks blanched.

“You’re not afraid of a little incision, are you?”

“No.”

“So why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“It’s called morning sickness.”

A hedge of embarrassment skimmed his nerves. “Are you going to be all right?”

“Yeah. I just need a minute.” She leaned against the car, sucking in several deep breaths. “Better.”

Carson put his arm around her waist and moved forward, glad her coloring had returned by the time they reached the rear entrance to the clinic.

He paused at the back door and peeked through the glass. Reaching down, he tried the knob. The door was locked.

He knocked several times. Scott’s office was just
down the hall—certainly he could hear if someone was at the door.

Looking down, Carson spotted a doorbell and pressed it.

The sound of the chimes echoed inside the clinic, but Scott didn’t answer.

“Something’s wrong.” He stared through the glass. Then he took Ava’s hand and led her along the back of the building, stopping at the window in the middle.

The shades were open.

At the edge of the window frame he leaned in for a look.

Scott Jacobs was slumped over his desk. His office had been trashed.

“He’s inside. He’s not moving. We’ve got to get in there.”

They hurried back to the door.

Carson pulled his shirtsleeve down over his hand and broke a panel in the door glass with a punch.

Reaching inside, he turned the lock on the doorknob and pushed the door open before pulling his 9 mm from his ankle holster.

“Stay behind me. There could still be someone inside the building.”

Ava stood close behind him. Reaching back, he touched her as he moved into the door frame and shot a glance in both directions.

It was clear.

Moving out into the hallway, he took a left and worked his way to the waiting room. Scanning the empty space, he nodded to her and turned back toward the hallway lined with exam rooms and Scott’s office. He cleared the first room on the left.

Exam rooms two and three were also clear. Lastly he cleared Scott’s office. “Wait out here.”

Ava nodded.

Carson didn’t have to take Scott’s pulse to know he was dead, but he did it anyway. Reaching around from behind, he felt for a carotid pulse. Nothing.

There was no apparent sign of trauma…until he took a closer look at Scott’s neck.

Cold understanding sobered him as he examined the telltale bruising. It was an Agency-style kill. Dr. Scott Jacobs’s neck had been snapped, and he was still warm.

Cautiously Carson moved toward the hallway where he’d left Ava.

He stepped into the hall, but it was empty.

In the direction of the back door he heard the crush of shoes on broken glass.

The hair at his nape bristled.

He raised his gun and moved toward the sound. Maybe she’d decided to step out. Was she feeling sick again?

He stopped next to the door frame, listening for
movement, then stepped into the doorway, only to find the entrance empty and the back door standing open.

Carson bolted through the door just in time to see a flash near the edge of the parking lot. Rushing forward, he dived into the bushes for cover, catching sight of Ava being manhandled by a man dressed in black.

Rage exploded inside him. He lunged forward, catching the thug in the back.

The man fell forward, losing his grip on Ava.

She stumbled, fell to the ground and crawled away from the fight.

“You SOB,” Carson yelled as he worked to restrain the thug from behind before he turned on him.

Only the flash of a knife blade gave him pause, and only for a moment. He slammed his booted foot into the man’s chest.

The knife hit the dirt.

One more kick and the man slumped to the ground, his eyes narrowed and piercing as he stared up at Carson, then at the gun in his hand.

“Who are you?” Carson demanded.

For an instant fear flashed in the man’s dark eyes. He was most likely CIA, a part of the squad ordered to bring them in. But how had he gotten the information about Scott?

There were only a couple of people who knew Scott was ex-CIA and a friendly.

Caution and mistrust worked his muscles into
knots as he stared down at the agent, deciding what to do with him. His friend was dead, and all because he’d chosen to help them.

Angrily Carson pulled the man to his feet and searched him for weapons, finding a pistol in his shoulder holster and another one strapped to his ankle.

Someone had to pay for killing Scott Jacobs, and he planned to find out who the SOB was.

C
ARSON GRIPPED
the steering wheel so hard his hands throbbed. He’d have given anything to have spared Ava the trauma of witnessing, or at least hearing, his interrogation of the agent who’d killed Scott Jacobs, but it couldn’t be helped.

In the end the man had given him nothing. He was no closer to finding out what was going on than he’d been days ago.

“He’ll make it, Ava. Once the cops get there and call EMS, he’ll do fine.” He glanced over at her placid features, profiled against the car window, and took a deep breath. He wasn’t always happy with the terms of his job, especially when he couldn’t produce results.

“I know,” she whispered. “He did kill your friend and try to take me. If you hadn’t stopped him, I’d probably be dead, too.”

Carson drove into the parking garage of the apartment complex, pulled into a space and killed the engine.

“He was there looking for the chip, assuming Scott
had already removed it. When he didn’t find it or the answers he wanted, he killed him. We walked into it.”

“You have to take this thing out of me.” She looked over at him, her expression hopeful, the corners of her mouth turned up in a tight smile. “That’s the only way we’re going to know what’s on it and what value it has.”

Worry ground through him. “Can’t do it. It’s too close to your spine. The only person who’s going to retrieve it is a doctor.”

“I understand.” She pulled the door handle and climbed out of the car.

Carson met her and they walked to the elevator for the ride up to the third floor. “I’ve got a fax of Jerome Hinshaw coming in. Have a look, see if it jogs anything in your memory.”

She stepped into the elevator with him. “Of course. But I don’t know what good it’ll do.”

“We’ve got nothing, Ava, and the odds are good that things are going to get a lot hotter. I’ve been declared a rogue.”

Her head jerked up, and a moment of terror blazed in her eyes. “They really do that?”

“When an agent skips out on a mission with his package in tow. Yeah. The good news is that I’m to be taken alive.”

He heard her sharp intake of breath.

“That beats the alternative.”

Carson was alert for any sign of trouble as the elevator doors slid open and they exited, making their way to the end of the hall. He pulled the key from his pocket, unlocked the apartment door and followed Ava inside.

“We’re going to be fine.” He met her where she stood next to the sofa and grasped her shoulders in his hands. “As long as we keep a low profile, they’re not going to find us. This apartment is secure—I made sure of it.”

Worry drew her eyebrows together. “It’s hard to dig for answers while you’re lying low.”

He considered her summation. It was true. If they couldn’t maneuver, they couldn’t discover the truth.

The sound of the phone, followed by the fax machine engaging, pulled him out of his thoughts. “Our snapshot of Jerome Hinshaw.” He walked over to the desk.

Ava moved up next to Carson, watching the fax roll out of the machine.

A rush of excitement filled her, but it was quickly followed by a wave of horror as the face materialized before her eyes, bringing a flood of memories with it.

She stepped back. Nausea whirled in her stomach and threatened to overwhelm her, but she fought it.

“It’s him. I saw him in the limo when I climbed in.”

Carson was next to her in an instant. He helped her into a chair at the table.

“What do you remember?” He squatted next to her, watching her with intense blue eyes.

“Stabbed. He was stabbed in the back of the car. We were moving. I can hear him pleading for his life, but they wouldn’t stop.”

She looked at him, wishing the horrific images were gone again. “There were two other men in the car with us. I can see the knife plunging into Hinshaw. One, two…three times. There’s blood everywhere. That’s all I remember. Then everything goes dark until I wake up on the airplane.”

Fear twisted inside her as she leaned toward Carson, feeling his arms come around her.

She buried her face against his shoulder, letting his strength and proximity soothe her, even while his scent invaded her senses, awakening need deep inside her body.

He stroked her back, sending ripples of pleasure through her as she pushed back from him and gazed into his face.

There was determination in the hard set of his jaw. She refocused on his lips, wanting to feel them against her own with a desire that laced through her entire body taking every nerve ending captive.

Heat flamed in her cheeks as she leaned closer, satisfied when he did the same. Was he caught in the torrent with her? Drawn to the fire she could feel igniting every hollow in her body?

Ava anticipated the kiss as they came together. Her breath caught in her throat. He parted her lips, pushing his tongue into her mouth. She opened for him, tasting him as the kiss deepened. Her mind went blank, all thought erased by a passion that consumed her. She clung to him, hungry for more. Hungry to feel him against her bare skin. Hungry for the memories of the night they’d spent together four months ago.

He shuddered and ended the kiss, pulling back from her before cupping her face in both his hands. His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. A muscle worked along his jawline. His breathing was uneven, so close she could feel it against her skin.

She closed her eyes, fighting the overwhelming desire aroused by his touch.

They were on a mission, but she couldn’t help wishing things were different. That their lives weren’t in danger. That her memory was intact.

Carson stared at Ava’s beautiful face and watched her eyelids flutter open.

His heart hammered against his ribs as he tried to deny the insatiable craving anchored deep in his soul.