Seduced by the Enemy (Blaze, 41) (11 page)

“Basically it'd be the same case with a new argument,” she replied. “It would have to bring into question the constitutionality of a prior decision. That's not unusual. Think about how many times
Roe v. Wade
has been challenged since the decision was handed down thirty years ago.”

“Exactly. But what if someone wanted to
guarantee
the new case was never heard?”

“You couldn't.”

“Are you sure?”

“Jared, what are you saying? That someone is trying to set the balance of the Supreme Court? That's ridiculous.”

“That's exactly what he
is
saying,” Harry said. “But it still doesn't explain why you two are involved.”

Jared walked back to the table. He picked up another set of documents and handed them to Harry. “The why is the easy part,” he said. “I know their dirty little secret. What they aren't sure of is how much information I have, or what I'm going to do with
it. As for Peyton, you said it yourself. She's just a pawn.

“It's no secret that Senator Phipps is a strong supporter of HMOs. He rallies against anything that will even remotely limit their power. We also know the Court ruled in favor of HMOs. Still, there's a case…” Jared riffled through more papers until he came to the face sheet of an appeal. “Here. This matter is before the appellate court now. It's not expected to be heard for another couple of months. If the appellate court upholds the lower court's decision, this is the case that will challenge the earlier Supreme Court decision. If the ‘new' bench agrees to hear the case, it could cause a reversal. To ensure that it doesn't make it that far, someone has to
guarantee
that the conservative balance of power in the Court isn't altered.”

“You've said that already,” Peyton argued. “It looks like it won't be an issue if the rumors of Galloway and Boswell, both conservatives, are true. All it does is bring us back to square one.”

“I don't think so.” Harry stood and leaned over the table. He gathered all the documents and divvied them up into three stacks. Two of them he placed side by side, the other he placed directly beneath the first stack, forming a large white rectangle with one section missing.

He looked up at them and grinned. “You pull all the pieces together, and your square is missing only one vital piece of information.”

Leave it to Harry to simplify even the most complex issue.

He tapped his fingers on the first stack. “We already know what this one means,” he said. “This is
what tells us they're stepping up their search and have dragged Peyton into this mess to get to you. Why?”

He indicated the second stack to the right. “Because you know about the president's short list. Now why is that so important?”

He flicked his finger against the bottom stack. “Because of this case with substantial money to be lost, to the physician owners who receive the bonuses.”

Harry leaned back in the overstuffed chair. “And what's the one thing all three of those sections have in common?”

“Senator Martin Phipps,” Jared stated.

“No,” Peyton said to them. “Not if the only connection is the list that Jared found in Dysert's apartment.”

Jared shook his head. “No, sweetheart. He's right. That's pretty good, Harry. You should've been a fed.”

Harry smiled. “Who heads the Senate Judiciary Committee?” he asked Peyton.

She thought for a moment. “Phipps,” she said. “But we're still missing something. How could Phipps assure the appointments of Galloway and Boswell? And how did he get his hands on the short list? Why is the Court's decision, or the possible reversal, important to him?”

“The Court's decision affects Phipps personally,” Jared explained. “He's been receiving kickbacks from HMOs for a long time now. That's the reason Dysert and I were investigating him. Someone tipped off Phipps, and he had Dysert killed. My guess is Santiago actually pulled the trigger.”

She digested his theory and had a hard time ignor
ing the logic behind his argument. “Okay,” she said, “but who killed Santiago?”

“The same person or persons who provided Phipps with the short list and helped him assure Galloway and Boswell could be appointed to the Court.”

Jared reached for the pad of scratch paper on the end table beside the telephone. “The answer to that goes right here.” He wrote on the pad and tore off the sheet, placing it in the remaining square.

Peyton's blood ran cold as she read the large block letters printed on the sheet of paper.

FBI.

J
ARED TOSSED THE BUTT
of his cigarette into the sand. He considered lighting another just to give him an excuse to remain beneath the twilight sky with his demons for a while longer.

Harry had returned to his home in Biddeford, Maine, a little over two hours ago, promising to keep his eyes and ears open for a sign of anything unusual in the area. Biddeford was a small enough town where an unrecognizable black SUV encroaching upon the area would raise more than a few eyebrows and wag some tongues.

Which left Jared alone with Peyton…again.

Now that he had her in a place where she'd be safe for the time being, he planned to return to D.C. and confront the bastards trying to silence them. His plan, while bold, was far from strategic, but he was out of good ol' American ingenuity at the moment. Keeping them alive remained his number one priority. As long as he continued to run, they'd continue to track him, and now Peyton. One woman had already died because of him. He refused to let them make Peyton their next victim.

The time had come to turn and fight. While the information he had was based primarily on supposition and circumstantial evidence, he sure as hell had
a lot more to go on than he'd had in recent months. With a little luck, it'd be enough to buy back his life…and Peyton's.

And then what?

Whenever he'd dared to consider what he'd do once he'd regained his freedom, he'd envisioned returning to his former life, picking up where he'd left off. That'd been pretty naive for the simple reason that life hadn't stood still. Not only had he changed, but so had Peyton. Had he really been stupid enough to think she'd wait for him?

Considering the jealousy he couldn't seem to let go of, the answer was a resounding yes, dammit. He
had
expected her to wait for him to come back. He sure as hell
hadn't
expected her to let another man into her life, or her bed, no matter how many years Jared had been gone.

The fact that he was operating under a double standard didn't lessen his hypocritical feelings. Neither did the fact that she wore another man's ring. As far as he was concerned, Atwood was nothing more than a minor obstacle.

From the day Jared had met Peyton, he'd fallen hard for her. He supposed, in his own twisted reasoning, even he could make sense out of something completely senseless. But that still didn't explain the clenching in his gut whenever he thought of a future with Peyton married to another man.

Tired of his own company and questions he didn't care to answer, he walked back into the cottage. When he'd stepped outside for a smoke, Peyton had been washing up the few dishes from their light supper of canned clam chowder and fresh salad. Now the cot
tage was dark, with the exception of the living room, illuminated by the flickering glow of the logs burning in the fireplace.

Peyton was curled up in the overstuffed chair facing the fireplace, staring at the burning logs, deep in thought. Dressed in a pair of blue-and-pink plaid pajama bottoms and a matching pink crop top, she looked as sexy as any siren with seduction on her mind.

He wasn't surprised at his desire. Just watching her walk across a room, wearing anything from the perfect little black dress to a pair of faded, baggy jeans, would have had him springing a raging hard-on in the past. Why should now be any different?

A lot of reasons, he thought. Time, betrayal, the danger of their situation. Still, none of them had the power to lessen the sudden snug fit of his jeans.

He walked toward her and sat on the arm of the chair, slinging his arm over the back. “What are you thinking about?”

She shrugged. “The past. The future.”

As he leaned closer, he almost felt as if he were locked in some sort of bizarre time warp. With everything going on, strangely enough, there was no awkwardness between them, as if their being together was as natural as breathing.

Well, almost. There was some unease, but it was the kind sparked by sexual awareness. Sitting beside her, he didn't have a doubt in his mind that the awareness was anything but mutual, based on the nervous glance she cast his way. The same type she'd been shooting in his direction since they'd left Roanoke the day before.

She moistened her lips. The sight of her pink tongue darting out from between her lips sent his testosterone levels sky high.

Worry filled her periwinkle eyes. “Do you think their search for us is going to turn into one of those nationwide manhunts?”

“I wish I had an answer for you.” He itched to have the power to set aside her worries, but even he understood and respected his limitations. “It'll depend on how desperate they're feeling. With that formal Supreme Court appointment being announced soon, I have a feeling they're going to try to move heaven and earth to find us.”

“But they won't find us here, will they? I mean, how can they?”

He let out a sigh. “It's hard to say, sweetheart. Anything is possible. No one knows about you coming to Harry's, right?”

“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “Not even Kellie knows this is where I come when I want to get away for a weekend.”

He reached down and lifted her hand, settling it on his thigh while he smoothed his fingers over her silky skin. He came in contact with the sharp edge of Atwood's ring. Irritation slammed into Jared. Irritation? Or jealousy? He knew the answer, and didn't like it one bit. “What about Atwood? Surely you've brought him here.”

White-hot jealousy surged through his body at the thought of Peyton with Atwood. Here, in this very cottage where he and Peyton had made love, had once shared an intimacy only lovers so in tune with each
other could have. The thought of those images being repeated with another man had his gut twisting, hard.

Ironically, the reminder that she was engaged to another man did zilch to reduce the pain in his jeans. He'd never been into encroaching on another guy's territory, but when it came to Peyton, he had a bad feeling the rules didn't apply. Laying the blame at the feet of unresolved issues wouldn't fly, and he knew it.

She pulled her hand from beneath his. “I've never brought Leland here.”

Jared found that as hard to believe as the hope he felt that she was telling him the truth. “How long have you been engaged?”

She cleared her throat and focused her attention on the fireplace. “Three days.”

“Three days?”
Impossible.
She couldn't have just gotten engaged. Not with the way she'd been looking at him all day. There was also the issue of that kiss when she'd plastered herself all over him, making it damned hard for him to keep his hands to himself. “You mean to tell me you're
newly
engaged?”

“Sort of.” She pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. “It took me a while to accept his proposal.”

“How long?” He knew from experience that Peyton was not the type to leap first without knowing what was on the other side.

“About two months.”

Two months?
A couple of weeks, maybe. But two months to figure out if she wanted to marry the guy? Jared's own ego climbed a notch and he grinned. “Tough decision, huh?”

She let out another sigh. “You know I don't make snap decisions.”

“God, Peyton, you always could worry a situation to death.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Waiting for you to decide on something is like being nibbled to death by a duck. Slow and agonizing.”

She glanced up at him and gave him a scathing look. “Not always,” she said as she stood abruptly.

“True.” His grin widened when she turned her head to look at him. “When I asked you to marry me it took you less than two seconds to accept.”

A barely perceptible shrug lifted her shoulders. “I was a different person then. And there's nothing wrong with needing to be sure I was making the right decision.”

She spun around abruptly. “Good night, Jared.”

He wasn't about to let her out of his sight, especially not now when he'd been handed such a startling revelation. He followed her into the bedroom.

“Either you love the guy or you don't,” he said, flipping on the switch to light the bedside lamp. All bets that she wasn't in love with Atwood were a sure thing, at least in his mind. A thought that had his grin widening. It certainly would explain her reaction when he'd kissed her. In fact, he should have realized it sooner. A woman did not kiss another man the way she'd done if she was in love with someone else. Especially not Peyton.

Her frown deepened as she moved to the side of the bed and tugged down the covers. “I suggest we change the subject before one of us gets angry.”

He considered her suggestion, for about two seconds. “So do you?” Maybe he should follow her ad
vice and let the subject drop, but there was no way he was letting go of something he considered important. Why he felt that way was a subject he didn't care to discuss, because doing so would bring up matters they'd never resolve. In particular, her reasons for turning him in to the bureau. She had already explained why she'd done it, and while logically he understood her reasoning, emotionally he couldn't get past playing the part of the injured party.

She pulled off her socks, then scooted beneath the covers, bringing them up to her waist. “You're not going to let this rest, are you?” She gave him a level stare filled with frustration. “I might overanalyze things, but did anyone ever tell you how relentless you can be? Or how irritating?”

He circled the bed. “It's all part of my charm.”

She issued a very ladylike snort of disgust. “I don't find you the least bit charming right now, Jared.”

“You used to.”

“That was…different.”

He didn't think so. Especially since she was doing her best to avoid answering his question. “Are you in love with Atwood?” The mattress dipped as he sat beside her. His hip nudged hers, but she shifted to the side until they were no longer touching.

She pulled the covers, but under his weight, they refused to budge. “You're being ridiculous.” She sounded miffed. And adorable as hell.

He rolled on top of her and braced his arms on either side of her hips, trapping her between his body and the pine headboard. “Am I?” He made the mistake of looking at her mouth just as her tongue moistened her lips again. His erection started to pulse.
“Then why won't you give me a straight answer? I've never known you to hide from the truth.”

“I'm not hiding from anything. The past couple of days have been miserable and I'm exhausted. Would you please leave? And turn off the light on your way out.”

He wasn't buying it, and he sure as hell wasn't leaving her alone until he had the answer he longed to hear. Besides, the slight note of panic in her voice gave her away.

“My feelings for Leland are irrelevant,” she added.

Jared leaned forward and breathed in her scent. She smelled of soap and arousal. “You're not in love with him.” Arrogant or not, he knew in his gut he spoke the truth.

When she didn't deny it, he cupped her cheek in his palm and smoothed his thumb along the satiny softness. Her breath caught. A heartbeat later, she turned her face to press against his hand.

“Don't do this, Jared.” Her whispered words were more invitation than rejection. Her hand landed on his chest, but she didn't push him away. Instead, her fingers curled into his shirt.

“Why?” He leaned in and brushed his mouth gently over hers. He slid his hand along her jaw to cup her neck, his fingers gently stroking her skin. “What are you afraid of? That I'm right?”

She shook her head, the silky strands of her damp, honey-blond hair tickling his knuckles. “No,” she whispered. “It's just…”

“Just what?” He nibbled her earlobe and she trembled before turning her head to the side. He accepted the invitation, tasting his way down her throat, to the
ruffled edge of her pajama top. With agonizing slowness, he nipped and kissed her collarbone, teased her jaw with the tip of his tongue. He stopped just below her lips. “Just that you won't stop me if I do this?”

Her soft moan of pleasure when his mouth caught hers in a hot openmouthed kiss was all the answer he needed. When she wrapped her arms around his neck and arched her body into his, his breathing faltered. The past, along with the dangers of the present, slipped away faster than his control, which he held on to by a tenuous thread.

Logic and reason be damned. He had to have her.

He pulled her to him. Her pajama top joined her socks on the floor before he captured her lips again. He made love to her mouth with his tongue, dipping and swirling, teasing and coaxing her to open to him without reservation.

She showed him none as she clung to him. The heat of her body seared him through his shirt. He needed to feel her breasts against his chest, to cup the full mounds in his hand, to taste and lave her nipples until she was writhing beneath him as the passion burned through her body.

He started to remove his shirt, but she pushed his hands away and did the honors herself. With each delicious brush of her fingers on his skin, his cock pulsed and throbbed against the restrictive denim of his jeans. The need to make her his again, to reclaim what rightfully belonged to him, was too strong to deny or ignore. The truth failed to shock him. He knew the driving need to make love to her made little sense, but he was beyond caring. Peyton was his. She'd always be his.

She kissed his chest, her breath warm across his skin. Her fingers explored, her mouth caressed until he thought he'd go insane with wanting her.

Unable to bear her sweet brand of torture another second, he eased her back against the pillows, then held himself above her as he moved his mouth and tongue over the slope of her breasts, taking first one, then the other nipple in his mouth, gently tugging and suckling until she moaned with pleasure deep in her throat. Her hips rocked forward as her body sought the ultimate culmination, but he was nowhere near finished with his sexual exploration of her body. A body he'd craved for too many long and lonely nights.