Operation: Midnight Rendezvous (16 page)

She looked into the black abyss of the bay below. It was so dark she couldn’t even tell how far the fall would be. All she could do now was pray it didn’t kill her.

“Stop!”

Closing her eyes, Jess said a silent prayer and flung herself into the darkness.

Chapter Twelve

The water slapped her like a giant icy hand, then swallowed her whole. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs; the cold stole what little she had left.

It was like being sucked into a bottomless, icy abyss. Every sense in her body screamed with shock. She didn’t know how deep she’d gone. Didn’t know what horrors lay above—or below. The only thing she knew for certain at the moment was that she wanted to live.

Jess kicked with all her might, but her clothes and shoes felt like lead weights. She didn’t know if she was making any progress, but the alternative to drowning was too horrendous to contemplate.

She broke the surface a moment later, choking and coughing. Rain and wind buffeted her. A wave swamped her and she swallowed a mouthful of the sea. She tasted saltwater and panic and the hard edge of her own fear. In the back of her mind she wondered if Madrid had gotten off the ship. If he had survived. If she would ever see him again. The thought of him gave her the strength she needed.

Treading water, she looked around and tried to get her bearings. Above her the ship rose out of the water like a steel iceberg. A single spotlight shone down, but it was a good fifty feet away from where she’d fallen. They were looking for her. That meant she didn’t have much time.

Turning, she spotted the concrete pier twenty yards away. Jutting ten feet out of the water, it would be a tough climb. But Jess thought there would probably be places she could get a grip or maybe a dangling rope she could grab.

The swim to the pier seemed to take forever. The cold was quickly zapping her strength. Once the searchlight from the ship came within ten feet of her and she had to duck beneath the surface. She knew sharks were the least of her worries, taking into consideration the men with semiautomatic weapons, but the entire time she couldn’t stop thinking about all the unsavory creatures lurking in the deep.

By the time her hands made contact with the concrete, she wasn’t sure she had the strength to pull herself out of the water. For several seconds she clung to the pier, shaking with cold and exhaustion, gasping for breath. Her teeth chattered as she looked around.

There were still lights visible aboard the
Dorian Rae,
but the spotlights had been doused. Did that mean they’d stopped looking for her? Where was Madrid?

Knowing the water was stealing her body heat and strength at an alarming rate, Jess maneuvered along the barnacle-covered pier until she came to a rope hanging down from an old bumper float. Now, if she could find the strength to pull herself up and out of the water.

A scream tore from her throat when something large brushed against her.
Shark
was the only thought her mind processed. She lunged at the rope, but before she could reach it a hand slapped over her mouth.

“Easy, Jess, it’s me.”

Several terror-filled seconds passed before the words registered. Before the familiar voice soothed the jagged ends of her nerves. When he removed his hand from her mouth, Jess choked out a sound of pure relief. “Madrid…”

“Are you hurt?”

“N-no. J-just c-cold.”

He looked around. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

She reached for the rope. “We can climb out.”

He eased her back into the icy water. The urge to fight him was strong; more than anything, she wanted out of the water. But his words stopped her. “We’re less than ten yards from the port police. You climb out here and you’ll get a bullet for your trouble.”

That convinced her.

“Hold on to me,” he said quietly.

She glanced over at him to find his eyes already on hers. Without hesitating, she hooked a finger around his belt loop.

“Like this,” he said, taking both her hands in his and wrapping them around his waist. He motioned to his right. “I’m taking you over to that old boat ramp.”

She hadn’t noticed the ramp until she followed his gesture. The concrete was crumbling and fraught with weeds as high as a man’s waist. But it was the easiest way out of the water. The weeds would provide some cover.

He shoved away from the pier, and she felt the muscles beneath her palms tighten as he began to swim. Jess kicked her feet in an effort to help, but her legs felt as if they were weighted down. Her feet were numb. The icy water felt like razors against her skin. At some point she had stopped shaking. It was as if she had floated out of her body and was looking down, watching two strangers struggle through the cold, black water.

It took only a few minutes for him to reach the boat ramp, but it felt like hours. He stepped onto the concrete. “Easy.”

Jess hadn’t realized she was still clinging to him. But when she let go, she sank back into the water. Exhaustion tugged at her and the darkness beckoned, offered a place that was warm and safe.

“Bloody hell.”

Madrid’s voice reached her as if from a great distance. “Whas wrong?” Surprise rippled through her when her words slurred.

“Cold got you. You’re hypothermic.”

“I’m ’kay.” But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get her legs under her.

Strong arms wrapped around her. The next thing she knew she was being swept into his arms. She wanted to ask him what he was doing and where he was taking her, but her mouth had suddenly forgotten how to speak. Her mind felt fuzzy and confused; she couldn’t seem to pull her thoughts together.

Vaguely she was aware of him carrying her across the weed-riddled asphalt. She worried about the men
from the ship spotting them as he shoved her into the car. But she figured neither of them was in any shape to do anything about it. She heard the engine start and saw Madrid looking into the rearview mirror.

And then like the water that had nearly stolen her life, she slipped into the darkness and floated away.

M
ADRID TOOK HER
to the only place he could think of. As an agent, he had several refuges. Secret places nobody knew about except him. The RV wasn’t his favorite, but it was secluded, mobile and safe. For now it would have to do.

He was all too aware how dangerous hypothermia was. He’d lost a fellow agent to it while on assignment some five years ago. Cold and water were silent killers that could steal a life like thieves in the night. There was no way he was going to let it take Jess.

She seemed weightless as he carried her to the RV and took her up the steps. Unlocking the door, he shoved it open. The place smelled stale, but it was dry and warm. For now that would have to be enough.

He set her on the small settee. She spilled from his arms in a wet heap. “Hang on, babe,” he whispered. “I’ll be right back.”

Quickly he went outside to the generator at the rear of the RV. It started on the first try. Madrid kept all his equipment in working order. In his line of business, he never knew when he would need it, and he was intimately acquainted with Murphy’s Law.

Back inside the RV, he switched on the lights and felt alarm shoot through him when he saw the pale cast
to Jess’s complexion. She had no color whatsoever, except for her lips, which were tinged blue. “Damn.”

Not giving himself time to debate, he began to work the wet clothing from her body. His hands shook as he tugged the soggy sweatshirt over her head. She thrashed and tried to push him away, but Madrid gently set her back down. “Easy,” he said. “I need to get you dry and warm.”

“G’way.”

“Not a chance.”

But his hands hesitated. Jess was stripped down to her jeans and bra. As vulnerable as a woman could be. This was no time for him to notice the silky white flesh of her abdomen or that her limbs were long and lean, just the way he liked. They were in the midst of a life-threatening emergency. But as he reached for the snap of her jeans, he noticed all of those things and more.

She shoved at him as he worked her zipper down. “Don’t.”

“I’ve got to get you warm,” he said, brushing her hands away.

Wide hips and a flat belly came into view. He gritted his teeth against the hard tug of attraction that coiled low in his gut. The hot rise of lust made him feel like a lecher. But while Madrid had always considered himself a professional, he’d never denied he was a man with weaknesses.

“Don’t go there, partner,” he muttered.

But he already had. He’d stripped her down to her bra and panties and for the span of a full minute he could do nothing but stand there and drink in her beauty.

Shaken by his reaction to her, he gave himself a hard mental shake. She needed warmth and rest, not some burned-out federal agent ogling her while she was only semiconscious.

“That’s bottom-of-the-barrel low, Madrid,” he growled, and started for the overhead locker off the tiny head. He pulled two blankets and a pillow from the shelf and went back to the settee. She stirred when he slid the pillow beneath her cheek, but she didn’t open her eyes. Probably a good thing, since he’d end up getting lost in them.

Only when he’d finished covering her with both blankets did he realize his own condition wasn’t much better. He’d been running on autopilot since leaving the shipyard, but the cold had sapped his strength. He felt as if he were moving through a fog. If some goon with a gun came calling, he wasn’t in any shape to do much about it.

Leaving Jess on the settee, Madrid stripped, let his clothes drop to the floor and stepped into the shower. The water wasn’t yet hot, but it was warm enough to get his body temperature back to normal. For now that was the best he could hope for.

He raised his face to the spray and felt his muscles begin to melt. He knew he should be thinking about solving the mystery surrounding Angela’s death. About how he was going to handle the end of his career.

But he couldn’t get Jess out of his mind. He couldn’t get the picture of her out of his head. The image of his hands roaming milky flesh. The sounds of her sighs when he touched her. The way it might feel running his fingers through her silky hair…

He had it bad for her. As far as the MIDNIGHT Agency was concerned, she was a fugitive from justice. He wondered if Sean Cutter had figured it out yet. If his relationship with Jess would expedite his fall from grace.

“First you gotta make it through the night,” he muttered, and turned his face toward the spray.

E
VERYTHING HE’D EVER WORKED
for was falling apart. A business endeavor he’d been working on for nearly a decade. A business that had afforded him a lifestyle he otherwise would never even have dreamed of.

All because of some two-bit federal agent and Jess Atwood. A freaking waitress, of all things.

They had been on board the
Dorian Rae
. In custody, in fact. But his men had screwed up, and now they were free. He could only assume they knew everything. That they were dangerously close to blowing sky-high everything he’d worked for.

A knock at the door drew his attention. “It’s open,” he snapped.

The man in the uniform entered the elegantly appointed office overlooking San Francisco Bay. “We’ve got problems.”

“Judging from the way things went down last night, we’ve got a damn train wreck on our hands.” Leaning back in his high-back leather chair, he glared at the cop. “How in the name of God could you let things get this far?”

“I’ve got my best men on it.”

“Some of my clientele are getting impatient. They’re getting nervous. Nervous customers don’t pay.”

“I just need some time—”

“We don’t have any more time!” Pulling himself back, he set his hands on the desk and laced his fingers. “She’s a waitress, for God’s sake.”

The other man flushed. “It’s the agent who’s causing the problems.”

“I don’t need to have problems pointed out to me. I need them solved, and I need them solved yesterday. Do you understand?”

“We’re doing everything we can.”

“And once again you’ve proven yourself incompetent.”

When he saw the other man’s eyes go hard, he reminded himself that this man could be dangerous if pushed too hard, so he decided to ease up. Once the crisis was over, he’d deal with him. For now, all he cared about was salvaging the project and his reputation.

“Let me make some calls,” he said. “Call in some markers.”

The cop shot him a questioning look. “What kind of markers?”

“A marker that might help me get Madrid out of the picture once and for all.”

The uniformed man nodded. “In the interim, what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to find them.” He picked up the phone. “When you do, I want you to kill them both.”

Chapter Thirteen

Jess woke with a start. For an instant she lay nestled in the warmth of the blankets. But while her body cried out for more sleep, her mind began to churn. The memory of everything that had happened the night before rushed back. Entering the
Dorian Rae
. Finding the prisonlike cells. Hearing the scream echo through the corridors. Running through dark and narrow passageways. The icy slap of the water when she’d jumped overboard to avoid capture.

Everything else was a blur. She didn’t remember taking a bump on the head, but her memory was foggy. She had a vague recollection of Madrid speaking to her, gazing at her with concern in his eyes. Then nothing…

She looked around. Her surroundings were not familiar, but she was pretty sure she was in some kind of RV. There was a small galley. A bench seat and fold-down tabletop. Faux paneling. A narrow door she assumed led outside. Someone had covered her with blankets…. Then she remembered. But Madrid was nowhere in sight.

A quick physical inventory told her she was unhurt, except for some sore muscles and a lingering fatigue. She snuggled more deeply into the blankets, comfort turning to shock when she realized she was wearing only her panties and bra.

But she knew. Madrid had undressed her. Again. Her clothes had been wet, after all. It wasn’t as if he could leave her in them all night. Still, the thought of him seeing her without her clothes made her cheeks heat.