Jordan Summers (10 page)

“I’m good. You?”

Jack kissed Delaney’s forehead. “Couldn’t be better. Just waiting for my body to give me the go-ahead for round two.”

Delaney elbowed him playfully in his side. Jack made an
oomph
sound, catching her arm at the same time.

“What was that for?”

“You were supposed to say something flattering or tender.”

“I thought I had.” He chuckled.

“Don’t you know the rules?” She cocked her head to look at him, unable to keep the smile from her face.

“Apparently not. Why don’t you fill me in…or better yet, why don’t I fill you in,” he said, rolling her beneath him.

T
HEY MADE LOVE
throughout the night, sometimes tenderly and sometimes with such a fierce need that it actually frightened Delaney. Neither noticed the van parked down the hill or heard the buzz of the tiny camera at the window as it recorded their every move.

J
ACK FELL ASLEEP
shortly before dawn. He lay under the covers, his chest bare and an arm thrown across his face. Earlier, he’d given her one of his shirts to wear, the material soft and warm against her skin.

Delaney pressed a sleeve into her nose and inhaled. She could smell Jack in the fabric. For a second, she considered taking the shirt for a keepsake, but then decided against it. How immature would that be?

She watched the steady rise and fall of Jack’s gorgeous abdomen. The muscles rippled beneath his taut skin. Delaney had the overwhelming urge to reach out and stroke his tousled hair. It had felt like silk last night against her fingertips and she longed to feel it again.

She glanced around the huge master suite, recalling their evening together. Jack Gordon was without a doubt the most considerate lover she’d ever had. He was also intelligent, witty and wickedly delightful to be around. Guilt sank its talons in and ripped at Delaney’s gut. Did she care nothing for her duty, her family? What had she been thinking?

Even as she asked herself the last question, Delaney already knew the answer. She hadn’t been thinking at all. Instead she’d turned into an insatiable tactile creature, who couldn’t get enough of this man.

There had been times during the night when her heart had rejoiced at finding Jack, only to weep under the circumstances. It would be so easy to fall for him. A tiny part of her already had. Yet there was no way this could end happily.

Delaney swallowed the resentment rising in her throat. “Why did you have to be an arms dealer, Jack? Of all things,” she murmured under her breath. And just like that, something that felt suspiciously like hope crumbled inside Delaney.

She slipped from the bed silently, keeping one eye on Jack as she inched toward her purse. It had ended up on the floor next to her clothes. Jack snuffled and she froze. What felt like an eternity later, he seemed to settle into a deeper sleep.

Delaney released the breath she’d been holding and grabbed her purse. She rummaged through the bottom until she found the USB drive she’d brought with her. She grabbed the tiny key drive, then put her purse back on the rug. Delaney crept across the floor to the bedroom door and turned the handle, thanking the heavens that it opened on a whisper.

She took a deep breath and gave one last look at Jack. Even with bed-ruffled hair and sheet marks imprinted in his cheek, he was still the most gorgeous guy she’d ever laid eyes on. The chances of her meeting someone like him in the future were slim to never going to happen. What a pity.

Delaney shut the door behind her, ignoring the sadness welling inside of her. She made her way to the one room Jack hadn’t shown her on his tour last night. Delaney turned the knob and the door creaked.

She cursed under her breath, glancing at the double doors at the end of the hall that led to the master bedroom. Thank goodness they remained closed. She pushed aside a sudden bout of guilt, then stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her.

A mahogany desk stood in the center of the room with paper strewn atop it. Dim light filtered through the closed plantation shutters on the window. Overflowing bookcases lined the walls. On top of them, she noted a couple of spent mortar casings. A silent reminder of why she was here.

A laptop sat in the middle of the desk, the screen saver morphing clouds into various shapes. A filing cabinet flanked the desk. Delaney walked across the lush carpet to the window. She tilted the shutters to allow more light to spill into the room, then moved to the desk.

The antique desk only had two drawers, which contained basic office supplies and nothing more. Delaney frowned. She woke his computer. It didn’t appear to have password-protected files. If Jack had information about the sale or movement of arms, this would be where he’d keep it.

So why wasn’t she finding anything?

She scanned his files, then slipped the USB drive into the unit and downloaded as many files as she could from his hard drive. It took a couple of minutes.

Delaney placed the USB drive into her shirt pocket, then moved to a filing cabinet. There were no locks. She opened the top drawer. It held typical office paperwork such as taxes, insurance information and deeds. The second cabinet drawer seemed to be dedicated to his art purchases.

Had he really retired? If so, what was he transporting on the plane in the briefcase that he didn’t want anyone else to touch?

Delaney shut the filing cabinet drawer and flipped the shades down, plunging the room back into shadows. Myriad emotions filled her as she walked the short distance to the door. She should be relieved that she hadn’t been able to find proof of his criminal activity related to the case at hand, but Delaney wasn’t. It still didn’t change what she had to do. Somehow, she had to get Jack’s cooperation or there was a good possibility innocent people would die.

She opened the door and stepped out into the hall. Jack stood against the opposite wall with his arms crossed over his bare chest and one leg propped behind him. He’d slipped on a pair of dove-gray sweatpants, but hadn’t bothered to tie them. Worry weathered his features, pulling his lips into a thin line.

“What were you doing?”

“I—I was looking for the bathroom,” she sputtered, knowing he’d never believe the lie. Hell, she wouldn’t in his place.

His expression remained cold, but something flared behind his eyes.
Was that hurt?

“There’s one attached to the bedroom, if you hadn’t noticed.” He stalked down the hall toward the kitchen without another word, his back ramrod-straight.

Delaney’s heart trampled her ribs. She closed her eyes a second, berating herself for being talked in to taking this assignment. Her nose caught the aroma of brewing coffee, and she opened her eyes. Moments later, she’d calmed down enough to enter the kitchen. Jack held a mug in his hands, while staring out the window at the valley below.

Another mug waited for her on the counter, steam rising from the contents. Cream and sugar sat nearby. Delaney cringed inwardly as she padded forward over the cool tiles. This situation would be so much easier if he just screamed at her. Instead, he was back to acting like the perfect gentleman, which made her feel even worse.

This was the first time Delaney had really hated her job.

“You know, for some reason,” he said, turning toward her, “I thought it was the male attendant who’d planted this on me.” He pushed the GPS chip across the counter with one finger, stopping when it was right in front of her.

Delaney glanced down at the device and winced. She picked up her coffee and took a sip, trying hard to swallow the acrid substance around the lump in her throat. She was only doing her job.

He continued. “I thought there was no way the government would assign someone so obviously out of their depth as you are on a plane, to follow me.” He paused, his hurt gaze jumping to her face. “Unless that was an act, too…like last night. Is Delaney Carson even your real name?”

“Delaney is real.”

“But not Carson.”

“No.” She shook her head.

His jaw clenched. “I really have to hand it to you, Delaney, you had me fooled. I never met anyone who could orgasm on cue, or were you faking it? Either way, you deserve an award for that performance.”

She flinched. “Jack.”

“Don’t,” he growled under his breath, before running a hand through his hair, sending dark strands in all directions. “This is low, even for the feds.”

“Let me explain.”

He laughed, but the noise sounded pained. “How can you possibly explain all this?” He waved his hand in the air to encompass the room.

“We need your help.”

He snorted. “
We?
Which branch of the government do you work for anyway?”

Delaney’s hands shook so bad that she needed to put her cup down. “I work for the Department of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives.”

“Of course you do,” Jack said, sarcasm lacing his voice as he refilled his cup. He held the pot in the air and shook it, nodding to her.

“No, thank you.”

He sat the pot down and moved back to the window. “I hope you got a good laugh. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to think you might be special.”

Delaney paused, the emotional blow more painful than she’d anticipated. “Jack, please, hear me out.”

“Why should I? You’ve been playing me this whole time.”

She moved toward him. “Because if you don’t, a lot of innocent people are going to die.”

He glanced at her. “That’s not my problem.”

“You know, if you’d have said that yesterday, I might have believed you actually meant it. But not now. I know you…at least a little.”

Jack glared at her. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Yes, I do,” Delaney whispered.

“No, you don’t….” His voice trailed off.

She blanched, his words scoring her conscience. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me, too,” he murmured as he stared down into his coffee.

“We still need your help.”

Jack spun to face her. “I’m retired, out of the business. Don’t you people get that?”

She knew he had every right to be angry. If their roles were reversed, Delaney would be livid. “According to our sources, someone is bringing in a large shipment of weapons this week into Los Angeles. Our intelligence tells us there’s enough firepower to take out a small U.S. city or start a private war. We have to stop them,” she said.

He curled his hands into fists, then straightened his fingers, before running his palms over his stubbled face. “I was never involved with that side. Everything I sold was legal.”

Delaney wanted to believe him, but it didn’t change the fact that the guns he sold ended lives. “You sold to enemies of the United States.” The words pained her to say, even if it was the truth.

He shook his head. “You don’t understand. They weren’t always our enemies. Check your dates and facts. I think you’ll find that to be the case.”

In her mind, there had never been a difference, since all she saw on the job was the destruction these weapons wreaked. She realized that to Jack there was a difference, a big difference. “We’ve checked you out thoroughly. Apparently, you are incredibly gifted at covering your tracks and hiding your assets. So much so, that we can’t tell if you’ve been doing anything illegal. That was one of the things I was sent in to find out.”

“You really don’t know anything about the sale of weapons, do you?”

Slightly embarrassed from her lack of knowledge, Delaney shook her head.

“It’s a lucrative business when you’re legal, even more so if you deal illegally. The business is dangerous either route you take, but I was damn good at it. I took the money I earned and invested it in art, property and technology. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Okay.” Delaney leaned against the kitchen sink. “Say I believe you. That doesn’t mean that you don’t know who would bring in a shipment.”

“I might, but I’m not about to get involved in this again. I got out and I’m staying out. The business is tricky. After the Berlin Wall came down it got even trickier. I was lucky to walk away with my fortune and health intact. I go back and there’s a good possibility I’ll end up dead. The men and women who work in the business aren’t exactly the most stable individuals.”

Delaney’s stomach dropped. The thought of Jack coming to harm made her ill. How could she have thought he was expendable?

She knew that McMillan specifically stated that Jack was their best hope in helping them and that the Bureau would provide protection if necessary. McMillan wouldn’t send an agent in unless a threat to Jack’s welfare had been verified. At the time, Delaney had agreed given his line of work, but now…

Without Jack’s insight and given the circumstances, she’d have to find another way to stop this shipment.

“So everything you told me last night about being a flight attendant was a lie?” he asked, surprising her.

Delaney couldn’t look at him. “Not exactly.”

Jack stepped forward and lifted his hand as if to touch her, then seemed to think better of it. “You really don’t like to fly, do you?”

“No.” She shook her head.

“So you alluded to one truth. I wonder how many more you told during your fancy deception.” Jack took a sip of coffee and stared at her, his expression unreadable. “What do you get out of this deal?”

Delaney shrugged. “The satisfaction of knowing that I’ve saved lives.”

“That’s very noble, but what do you personally get out of this deal?”

“A promotion.”

He cocked his head. “Seems to me that if you’ve gone to all this trouble it’s for more than an elevation of status or a sense of duty. I’d say you have something to prove. The question is to who?”

“Are you going to help us or not?” she asked, trying to divert Jack’s questions, which were getting far too close to home.

“I can’t,” he said, pouring more coffee. “I’m sorry.”

“I understand. I’ll get my things and leave.” She paused, admitting she really didn’t want to go.

Jack turned his back to her. “You know, Delaney, you didn’t have to fuck me to find out what I was up to. All you had to do was ask.”