01 A Cold Dark Place (12 page)

“My question?”
Her voice was hesitant.

“My emergency
is more or less sorted out. And as for the second part of your message, the pleasure was all mine.”

She snorted but he could hear a frisson of tension in her voice as he maneuvered his Audi around traffic. “It wasn’t
all
yours.”

“Don’t argue with a hungry man. What’re you doing?” He needed to keep hearing her voice because he was worried that even though she was surrounded by
feds and Marines, she was vulnerable. It was crazy. It was obsessive. But two flat tires were unusual.

“I’m working late.” She didn’t want to tell him.

“You want to go out for supper?” He overtook a lumbering tractor and sped along the highway toward Quantico and DC. “Or does anything involving food violate the no-dating rule?”

“I think my no-dating rule needs a few tweaks.”

He could hear the grin in her voice, wished he could see it. His foot was pressed to the floor and he’d be lucky not to get pulled over by the highway patrol, but the urge to get to her was strong so he didn’t ease up. “Hell, no.”

“That’s because I jumped your bones—”

“Damn straight.”

She sighed. “But regardless, I’m stuck at work for at least another hour. My car has two flat
tires and I’m waiting for the recovery guy to come and fix them.”

“Two flat tires? Were they slashed? Where are you, are you safe?” He wanted as much information as possible.

“I’m at Quantico, heavily armed in my car, so I think I’m safe. The tires weren’t slashed, someone just let the air out.”

“What the hell?”

“Let’s just say it appears I haven’t made such a great first impression on some of my new colleagues.”

“I’m five minutes
away, leave the keys for the recovery guys and I’ll give you a ride home.” She went quiet. Too quiet. He could feel her slipping away. “I’m not expecting a repeat of last Friday night, Mallory, I’m just making sure you get home safe.” Although, really, why should she trust him?

“I want to say yes, Alex, you have no idea how much. But I have to say no. I’m just not in a place to start a relationship right now...” He thought he might hear tears in her voice but that had to be his imagination. “I want to say yes, but I can’t.”

He took a left into the FBI portion of the Quantico grounds and pulled up at a checkpoint. “If you don’t accept a ride from me, I’m going to look like a damn fool in front of all these jarheads.”

“You’re already here?” She hung up and he showed his ID to the guard. The fact they let him through suggested she’d taken pity on him
by calling ahead to vouch for him.

He turned into the parking lot and saw Mallory standing beside her car, pulling out a box
he recognized, followed by her laptop and purse. She opened his trunk and ditched her stuff and he used the time to silence his cell phone and tuck it into his pocket. She opened the door, her expression stern, eyes twinkling.

“Mr. Parker.”

“Special Agent Rooney.” He nodded solemnly back. The sight and scent of her drew him in. She smelled like mint.

“We need to stop meeting like this.”
She climbed in.

His gaze swept over her. Every time he saw her she affected him
more, and he didn’t know why. “Are there laws against meeting like this?” he asked carefully.

“Only if we start doing what we did last Friday night
right here in the FBI Training Academy parking lot.”

“
You had to say that out loud?” He pulled away as soon as she’d done up her seatbelt. “You couldn’t pretend I hadn’t seen you naked?”

“I’m not the pretending type.” Her expression darkened for a moment.
“At least not most of the time.”
What did that mean?
“But I’m not trying to lead you on. I really don’t have time for a relationship—”

“Who said I was looking for a relationship?”
Because he wasn’t. He really wasn’t.

She til
ted her head to one side and bit her lip. “Maybe I keep saying it in the hopes I’ll convince myself as much as I’m trying to convince you.”

“You like to get it all out there on the table, huh?”

“I like honesty,” she agreed.

His mouth parched. “How about we just relax and get to know each other?”
Christ, where did that come from? He just wanted her home safe. Nothing more. No “getting to know one another.”
Frickin’ idiot
.

“Tell me about your family,” she prompted.

“Not much to tell.”

She raised one arched brow at him as he turned back onto the main highway.

“My mother’s dead.” He never spoke of her. “She died of cancer when I was fourteen. I don’t have anyone else.”

“I’m sorry.” The pain in her voice was obvious.

“It was a long time ago.” His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. There had been times when he was sure his mother’s spirit had visited him in that rancid filthy jail—those were the good times. “She would have liked you.”

She let out a big sigh. “You’ve only seen the good parts and they were clouded by alcohol consumption.”

“They were naked which is always good in my book. But that’s not why she’d have liked you.” They passed a tow truck with flashing yellow lights which must have made record time. “I remember her telling me before she died to make sure I did something worthwhile with my life. I’m not sure I’ve done that, but you have. You should be very proud.”

She eyed him wryly.
“Maybe one day I’ll get there.” She looked away as if the conversation was too intimate. It probably was.

So he lightened it up.
“My dad was a professional gambler from Reno.”

She looked back. “No kidding. He made a living at it?”

“Fuck, no.”

She laughed.

“He used to travel between cities on the Greyhound bus, which is not the mark of a successful businessman. When he occasionally showed up for visits it was usually because he had nowhere else to go. Mom let him stay. I don’t think she loved him, she just felt sorry for him. He was an addict and gambling was his drug.”

“What happened to him?”

“He struck lucky one day in Carson City and won a hundred grand.”

“
From your tone this doesn’t have a happy ending.”

“He was knifed in a back alley. Probably trying to score enough speed to keep him
awake long enough to lose his winnings.” He shrugged. Talking about his father didn’t hurt the way talking about his mother did. They’d had no connection beyond DNA.

They passed another tow truck. “Wow, it looks like I’m not the only
one in trouble tonight.”

“You didn’t leave an apartment key or your address in your car did you?”

“No. The company has my address on file but agreed to tow it to the garage I use.” She shot him a look under her brow. “I’m not an idiot, Alex.”

He nodded but something about this whole thing teas
ed his senses. It didn’t feel right, but maybe it didn’t matter because Mallory was sitting safe beside him and he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.

“
Lucas said you were consulting on the Meacher investigation?” she said.

And just like that the atmosphere chilled
. “He sent me some cell tower data but there’s nothing in it of value.”

“Maybe whoever shot Meacher didn’t carry a cell phone
?”

“
Maybe. You have any idea who did it?” He tried to sound nonchalant.

“
I’m not on it anymore and Lucas didn’t say.” She shrugged but sat up a bit taller as if her brain had switched on and it reminded him she’d been the only agent to suspect a professional hit man. She had good instincts. He needed to be careful. “He sure as heck didn’t sound like he’d gotten anywhere when I spoke to him last night. With Danbridge breathing down his neck he’s getting desperate.”

“You guys
are close?”

She flashed him a look.
“Friends, nothing more. Don’t go thinking we’ve stepped out on a buddy because it isn’t true. Lucas’s like an overprotective older brother to me. The idea of kissing him—
ugh
.” She shivered with apparent revulsion which was fine with him. Hopefully Lucas Randall felt the same way.

The
y sat in silence for the rest of the journey. He could have peppered her with questions but he could tell by the tightness of her lips and set of her shoulders that she was exhausted, and he knew exactly how late she stayed up every night. She fell asleep near Dale City and he felt content just to share her space. Something about Mallory Rooney soothed him. Maybe her ongoing dedication to her sister. Maybe her lack of guile in a world full of dangerous secrets. Or maybe it was his masochistic streak. When he pulled up outside her building he waited for a moment, just watching how the light molded her profile.
Fool
. Very gently he stroked her cheek.

“We’re here, Special Agent Rooney.”

She blinked herself awake, then grimaced. “Sorry. I hope I didn’t snore or drool.” She unclipped her belt and leaned toward him and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips. Mint laced her breath, and she smelled so sweet he wanted to eat her up. Every cell in his body begged him to take it deeper but he hung onto his good intentions by the thinnest of margins.

Pale fingers curled over his much larger, dark
er hand. “Thanks for the ride.”

The sight of her skin against his snapped something inside him. H
e took her face in his hands and kissed her hard, tasting the passion she kept hidden beneath the hardworking persona. He dragged her towards him, and she was kissing him back, inhaling him as her tongue curled around his in a fiery dance. He jerked her blouse out of her pants and her lace-clad breast was filling his palm as she pressed closer and closer. It wasn’t close enough. He found her nipple and rolled it until she almost climbed on top of him. The damn car wasn’t meant for necking—he needed a new car, with a bench seat. He was burning up with arousal, as if he’d been doused in gasoline and someone had struck a match.

A rap on the glass had them jerking apart. Shit, a traffic cop was giving them the stink-eye through the glass. Mallory seemed to realize what was going on before his brain
reengaged. Of course she only had one head to deal with.

She rolled down the window.

“Sorry Officer, we weren’t thinking.”

He snorted, “No kidding. Move it.”

“I’m an FBI agent. I live here and I’m getting out now.”

“This to
wn is full of feds, politicians and diplomats. You’ve got thirty seconds before I pull you both in for public indecency.”

“Thank you, Officer.”

The guy turned away to go back to his motorcycle.

Mallory’s lips murmured urgently against his, “I have to go. You don’t know how desperately I want to invite you inside.”

F
rom the straining erection in his pants he had a damn good idea. “Go. Before this guy gets pissed.” He should be thanking the cop for stopping them because he sure as hell hadn’t been going to. She opened the car door, blouse half-in, half-out of her pants, short hair sticking wildly in all directions.

He grabbed her hand
at the last moment. “If you ever need me”—her amber eyes widened—“you know where to find me.”

She swallowed and
gave him a slight smile. “Don’t wait for me, Alex.”

He felt like he’d already waited a lifetime. It didn’t make any sense. She grabbed her
stuff out of the trunk and waved to the traffic cop who just shook his head and cracked some smart ass remark that made her laugh.

Once she was safely inside
her building, he drove home. And dreamed of two little girls being chased by bad guys. He was the bad guy.

***

Fury made his vision tunnel. How’d she escape him again? All that planning? An entire day wasted setting up an ambush? The risk involved in letting the air out of her tires? He debated taking her car and dumping it in the bush out of sheer spite but didn’t want to raise suspicion. Instead he turned around and told the guard he’d made a mistake with his pick up location and left. No harm, no foul.

S
he was like a cat with nine lives.

He
had no fucking clue who the other guy had been when he’d broken into her home in Charlotte. Damn near gave him a stroke when the man had held that knife to his throat.

He trundled home
through the darkness, not wanting to get pulled over or catch anyone’s attention. A lone figure at the side of the road stuck her thumb out, tempting him until a cold rage flashed over his flesh. He blasted the horn at her and she gave him the finger. Bitch. What the fuck did she think would happen out on the streets like this? Christ, some women were so fucking stupid.

Payton had been
smart, right up until his uncle had smacked her head against the floor. He’d damaged her brain. He knew that. His uncle had been a sick, vicious bastard who shouldn’t have been allowed within a mile of a kid. A lump clogged in his throat. If he could go back and change the night they took her he would, but Payton was dead and wasn’t ever coming back.