Living on the Edge (13 page)

As she watched, Angel opened the safe and pulled out the laptop.

Tanner had already pulled off his backpack and unzipped it.

“Got it,” he said as he slid the machine inside.

Madison raised on tiptoes to see over Angel. “Any of my jewelry in there? I'm missing a pair of diamond earrings that belonged to my grandmother.”

Angel glanced at Tanner, who nodded. Angel reached into the safe and pushed aside papers until he found a small velvet box. He handed it to her.

She flipped open the lid and saw the earrings in question. “Cool. He told me he didn't have them and that I must have misplaced them. What a jerk.”

“You do realize this means he'll know you were part of the break-in,” Tanner said. “We're leaving behind cash and securities.”

“We could take them, too. Just to throw him off our scent.”

“He's not going to have any doubts. But if you want the money, feel free.”

She shook her head. She wasn't interested in anything from Christopher except what belonged to her.

“These are fine,” she said as she tucked the box into the pocket without the cell phone.

Tanner shrugged on the backpack. “Let's go.” He led the way out.

Madison stepped back to let him go first. As she did so, she nudged the painting, which began to move back in place. Her breath caught. Angel and Tanner both moved toward the frame, but it was too late. It bumped the open safe so that the door swung closed.

There was a second of silence, followed by an earsplitting siren as the lack of locking mechanism engaged the system.

Tanner yelled something, but she couldn't hear what over the noise. He grabbed her arm and hauled her out of the study. Lights went on upstairs.

Horror swept through her. She didn't want to be caught and she didn't want anything to happen to Tanner or Angel. How could she have been so stupid?

There weren't any answers, just a mad dash to the front door. Angel got there first and jerked it open. Instead of running toward the van, he took off around the corner. Tanner continued to drag her along.

The noise of the alarm echoed up and down the street. Lights came on in nearly every house. As they approached the van, Tanner pulled out a remote and hit it. Doors flew open and the engine started.

“Get in back,” he yelled over the noise.

She nodded and dived for the safety of the van. Once she was inside, she stared out the window. The guard
came from the rear of the house. He ran across the lawn, then suddenly collapsed. Angel appeared from behind a bush and ran parallel to the van.

Tanner shifted into gear and raced around the corner. As they turned, she looked back and saw Christopher bolt out of the house. She could see him yelling but couldn't hear the words over the alarm.

As they rounded the corner, Tanner leaned over and opened the door. Angel jumped inside and they sped off.

T
hey drove back in silence. When they reached the safe house, Angel disappeared without saying anything. Madison followed Tanner inside and waited for him to yell at her.

She felt horrible. Okay, yes, bumping the painting had been an accident, but it could have gotten them all killed, or caught. In her case, they were one and the same.

Once in the control room, he took the equipment from her without saying a word. She slipped out of her vest and handed him the phone. Tension radiated from him and she wondered how mad he was.

He put the vest away, then grabbed the security bracelet from the desk and held it out to her.

“Your call,” he said.

She put it on, snapped it closed and waited.

But there wasn't anything else. No accusations, no screaming, nothing. Just the awful silence that made her feel small and stupid. Finally she couldn't take it anymore.

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Okay, so I screwed up. Just yell at me and get it over with, will you?”

He sat in front of his computer and booted the system. “I'm not going to yell. You didn't do anything wrong.”

“I bumped the painting.”

“Not your fault. It could have happened to anyone.”

But it hadn't. It had happened to her.

“I know you're mad,” she said.

“I'm fine.”

“You're lying.”

“Madison, I promise you I'm not angry with you. We have what we needed and we all got out safely. That's what matters.”

He returned his attention to the computer, which just made her want to throw something.

What was going on? He was obviously in a temper.

“Dammit, Tanner, don't do this. Don't shut me out like I'm some kid and don't treat me like I'm an idiot. You're not fine, you're furious.”

He stared at the computer for several seconds before springing to his feet and glaring at her. “You do
not
want to have this conversation with me.”

“Of course I do. I can handle it.” At least, she was pretty sure she could.

“No, you can't.” He turned and walked to the window. “Go to bed.”

He couldn't have hurt her more if he'd slapped her. Just like that, she thought. One screwup and she didn't matter anymore.

“You have some pretty strict rules,” she said bitterly. “You should have spelled them out before so I would have been prepared. One mistake and you're cut off. Who knew? It's amazing you have any friends at all.”

She saw the tension in his body and waited for him to deny her words. When he didn't, she felt as if she had just lost something important.

“It's not that,” he said quietly just as she'd turned to leave.

“Then what is it?”

“It's me.”

She'd expected a lot of possible responses, but that wasn't one of them.

“How is it you?” she asked.

“I made a fundamental error in judgment and I know better. I could have gotten us all killed tonight just because I wanted to impress you.”

“W-what?”

He shrugged. “Taking you was stupid. Worse. But you wanted to go and I thought…” He swore. “I thought you'd get a kick out of seeing what I did. I thought you'd be impressed by my moves. I wanted to impress you.”

He turned and faced her. “I'm sorry.”

She didn't know what to say, what to think. Why on earth would he care what she thought of him? Why would it matter?

“You don't even like me,” she told him.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “That's not true.”

She took a step toward him. “You can't like me. Maybe you don't hate me or think I'm useless, but like? Not possible.”

He sighed. “Do we have to talk about this?”

“Oh, yeah.” Him liking her was cause for a serious shift in the space-time continuum. Her worry faded and something very close to happiness took its place. “We're going to talk until I understand when you hit your head.”

“Why are you surprised?” he asked.

“Because I am.” She moved a little closer. “How much do you like me?”

“Enough.”

“How much is enough? A lot? More than ice cream?”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “Yeah. More than ice cream.”

“More than a ray gun?”

“I don't have a ray gun.”

“But if you could get one. If you could get the only ray gun in the universe, would you like me more than that?”

He considered the question, then shook his head. “No. Not more than that.”

Maybe she was supposed to be serious, but she couldn't help laughing. “So I fall between ice cream and a ray gun?”

“Pretty much.”

She could live with that.

She stood close enough that she could see the rise and fall of his chest. It was late, but she wasn't sleepy. At that moment she would swear that she might never sleep again. Awareness crackled between them. Awareness and a need that startled her with both its presence and its intensity.

She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to kiss her and hold her and touch her everywhere.

He stiffened. “Don't do that.”

“What?”

“Don't think that way about me.”

“Because you set the rules?”

“Because of what I did. Before.”

Of course. He'd acted out of anger. He'd done something wrong and now he felt he didn't deserve a second chance.

As always, his expression was tough to read. There was a sharpness that was new, a tension. If she had to guess, she would swear he was more than a little interested in her—that
like
didn't begin to describe what he felt. That maybe, just maybe, he wanted her as much as she wanted him. But he wouldn't act on it. He wouldn't let himself.

She'd never pursued a man before. In her world, they came to her. There hadn't been anyone since Christopher. She simply hadn't been interested. But she was interested now.

“Tanner?”

“Not a good idea,” he said flatly, although he didn't move away.

“Why not?”

“You're reacting to the situation, not to me.”

Possibly. “Is that a bad thing?”

“It could be.”

But for which of them? she wondered.

His eyes captivated her. The darkness seemed to pull her in. His body called to her—all hard planes and thick
muscles. Did any part of him yield? Did he ever relax? And what did he look like when he slept? Suddenly she had to know.

“Tanner,” she said again, this time on a breath, just as she placed her hands on his shoulders, raised herself on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his.

His mouth was firm and unresponsive. He didn't move, didn't speak, didn't blink. She lowered herself to the floor and stared at him.

“You're not going to make this easy, are you?” she asked.

“I'm not going to do this at all.”

“Because I'm a client or because you don't want me?”

“Because it's not a good idea.”

She had to gather her courage to say, “But you do want me.”

His expression turned wry. “I'm breathing, aren't I?”

Whew. Okay, then. Now they were making progress. “Then react a little.” She grabbed him by his upper arms and tried to shake him. Of course he didn't move.

“I don't want to hurt you,” he said. “I don't want you to regret any—”

She reached up and covered his mouth with her fingers. “I don't have any regrets. I want this. I want you. Just for a few minutes, I want to forget everything that's happening. Please.”

She felt the battle of wills within him. Would the man win or the warrior?

She waited until the tension in the room made it difficult to breathe. Finally, when she decided it was going
to be a long, lonely night, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“I can't resist you,” he said simply. Then he bent down and kissed her.

What a difference cooperation makes, she thought in delight as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. This time his mouth was all giving, still firm but pressing against hers in a way designed to make her go weak at the knees. He hauled her against him so that she felt the hardness of his chest, his belly and his arousal. With one hand he pulled the elastic from the bottom of her braid and began to finger-comb her hair.

“Madison,” he breathed against her mouth. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

True enough, she thought hazily, enjoying the light kisses he brushed on her cheeks, her nose, her forehead before he returned to her mouth. He moved back and forth, exploring her. He sucked on her lower lip, which created fire deep inside. Her breasts ached, her thighs felt hot, her body burned for him.

When he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, she parted for him. He swept inside with a hunger that made her toes curl. He tasted of mint and coffee and of the man himself. Dark and sensual images invaded her brain. She clung to him, her fingers digging into the hard muscles of his back.

More, she thought with a desperation she'd never felt before. She needed more. More touching, more closeness, more everything. She wanted him naked, claiming her, watching her as he thrust deeply inside of her. She wanted him trembling with need and weak in the aftermath of his pleasure. She wanted to rock his world.

He finished with her braid and moved his hands to her back. He stroked her spine, then moved lower to her rear, where he cupped the curves and squeezed. Instinctively she arched forward, which brought her belly up against his erection again. She liked what he offered and continued to rub, wanting more contact and less clothes.

He broke the kiss and nibbled along her jaw. When he reached her ear, he whispered, “My room.”

“I thought you'd never ask.”

Still kissing and licking the sensitive skin under her ear, he nudged her backward until they were out of the control room and moving down the hall. Anticipation tightened her belly.

When they reached his room, he released her long enough to turn on the bedside lamp. Then he cupped her face in his hands and stared into her eyes.

“I want you to be sure,” he said. “I'll stop if you want me to.”

As if, she thought, feeling the wetness and swelling between her legs. “No means no?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Then how about letting yes mean yes?” She pressed her hands against his chest. “Yes. I want this. I want you.”

“You're sure?”

She groaned. “Jeez, Tanner, shut up and get naked. Okay?”

He chuckled. “Yes, ma'am.”

He was true to his word and very speedy. In the time it took her to kick off her shoes and pull off her socks, he'd removed his boots, socks and shirt and was al
ready working on his trousers. She decided to leave the rest of her clothes in place and instead enjoy the show.

He looked as good bare chested as he had with clothes. Powerful muscles moved and stretched in the most intriguing way. There were scars on his arms, one on his side. Later, she thought as she watched him push down his trousers and briefs in one easy movement. Later she would ask about the scars and how he'd gotten them. For now, there was the man and his very impressive arousal.

“All that for me?” she asked.

“Did you bring a friend?”

“No.”

“Then it's all for you.”

“Good to know.”

He reached for the hem of her T-shirt. She raised her arms so he could pull it over her head, then at the last minute, dropped them to her side.

He released her and waited. She cleared her throat.

“You said I was too skinny and I am. Bony, actually. And I have no breasts. Technically the parts are there, but they're not especially large.” Christopher had always wanted her to get implants, but she'd resisted. Mostly because it was what he wanted.

He stared at her for a long time, then took her right hand and brought it to his erection. He held her fingers around his thickness.

“Does this feel like I think you're anything but beautiful?” he asked.

“Well, no, but—”

He cut her off with a quick shake of his head. “Do you think I'm faking it?”

That made her smile. “Hardly.”

“Then maybe you should shut up and get naked.”

She laughed. “You think?”

“Absolutely.”

It seemed like a good idea. She pulled off her long-sleeved T-shirt, then unfastened her jeans. Her bra went next, then her panties. When she was naked, she started to ask him what he thought, but before she could form the words, he drew her into his arms, then tumbled them both onto the bed.