Aces High (10 page)

Skye sent him a brief smile. “Modeling clay, but it looks like the real thing. If Hagen doesn't take it into his head to get an analysis, it'll pass muster. You didn't answer me.”

“Ummm. You were a bit on edge this morning.”

Skye swore softly. “I thought so.”

“They have a vested interest in this caper,” Dane pointed out dryly. “More than either of us, as a matter of fact. Our acquaintance with Hagen is fairly recent, but he's been meddling in their lives for a couple of years now. Raven just asked if I'd find out what was bothering you.”

Skye set the clay aside and reached into his pocket for a Swiss Army knife. He drew out the screwdriver blade and began loosening a metal panel under the seat of a car.

“No answer?” Dane asked quietly.

“You know the answer.” Skye's voice was curt. “And talking about it won't change anything.”

“Cut it out,” Dane ordered in a tone that matched his brother's. “I let you get away with silence six years ago because I hadn't been in love myself and didn't understand. In retrospect, it was a stupid decision on my part. You can tell me to go to hell if you want, but I'll be damned if I'll stand by
this
time and watch you tear yourself apart.”

“That won't happen again.” Skye sat back on his heels suddenly, his hands going still, and the ragged edge of strain showed in his voice. “At least I hope—dammit, I don't know. I just don't know.” He laughed shortly. “I moved into her suite this afternoon.”

“Is that as promising as it sounds?”

“No. I more or less forced her into it.”

Remembering the temper he had seen in her flashing amber eyes, Dane said slowly, “I wouldn't have thought that lady could be pushed very far against her will.”

“You've met her?” Skye said, not much surprised.

“By accident, the other day. She said that you and I were very different, and it wasn't a question.”

Skye laughed again, and again the sound held no humor.

Dane hesitated, then said, “If you've been doing your talented impersonation of a bundle of dynamite, it's no wonder the lady's a bit wary.” When his brother said nothing, Dane shook his head. “Are you giving her room to breathe, Skye?”

Skye began working on the Ferris wheel car again, his head bent. “I'm trying.”

The mumbled answer made Dane's mouth twist in wry understanding. Skye was of course being his usual impatient, overpowering self, and Dane knew his brother's nature too well to try to change it at this late date. “Scars from the past getting in the way?” he asked instead.

“She says she doesn't blame me for what happened in Germany.” Skye removed the last screw from the metal panel, then carefully removed the panel and uncovered a small empty compartment beneath the car's seat.

“Do you believe that?”

“I don't know. I didn't trust her then, not when it counted, and she doesn't trust me now.”

Dane was silent for a few moments, watching as his brother continued setting the stage for an attempted assassination. The darkness was no more a hindrance to Skye's quick, economical movements than it was to Dane's observation of his brother's closed face; they both possessed catlike night vision.

“Doesn't trust you how?” Dane asked finally, reflecting silently that this was like pulling teeth. “She's afraid you'll believe the worst of her again?”

“No. She's afraid I'll hurt her. I can see it in her eyes.” Skye reached into the open compartment beneath the car's seat and began molding the clay into one corner.

Dane, who had been forced to cope with something similar in his own courtship, knew there was no simple answer for that one. “So what're you going to do about it?”

“Convince her she's wrong, if I can.” Abruptly Skye added, “If it comes to that, maybe she isn't wrong. I've already hurt her, and I will again. God knows I don't mean to, but when has that ever stopped me.”

“If you'd only
think
first,” Dane said, and it held the sound of an old refrain.

“Teach me that, will you?” Skye requested with a thread of humor in his voice.

“Maybe Katrina can; I gave up a long time ago.”

Skye laughed, and determinedly changed the subject. “Given the setup, it should be a remote-controlled detonation rather than a timer, don't you think?”

“I'd say so. Where will our assassin be lurking?”

His hands were once more busy preparing the lump of “explosive” for a remote detonation, but Skye nodded toward the nearest building, which was an elaborate fun house. “I'm going to suggest the roof of the fun house. There's a partially concealed ladder for a quick exit, and a clear field of vision.”

Dane was frowning. “Makes sense. Now, how do you propose to handle the factor of random chance?”

“You mean making certain the governor is seated in this particular car?” Skye chuckled. “I'm going to let Hagen worry about that one. It'll occupy his mind.”

“Is there a solution?” Dane asked politely.

“God knows.”

Dane couldn't help but laugh. “An accomplice?” he suggested.

“After he lost his terrorist group, Adrian became a loner,” Skye reminded his brother. “We'll let random chance be a puzzle for Hagen. It won't go as far as getting the governor on the ride anyway. If our choreography is by the numbers, our assassin will be standing handcuffed in front of Hagen long before the crucial moment.” He was busy replacing the metal cover.

A few minutes later Dane got to his feet as Skye closed the briefcase and rose. He respected his brother's privacy, and was perfectly aware that Skye's edginess earlier in the day had been largely a physical strain due to his enforced patience. Still, Skye was hardly relaxed now, and Dane knew he was tied into emotional knots because of Katrina.

So, as they walked back toward the hotel, he brought the subject up one last time. “Give her time, Skye,” he advised softly. “You came back into her life less than a week ago; let her get used to the idea.” He sent his brother a sudden grin. “I know you're convinced you could move the earth with a lever and someplace to stand, but it takes two to build a bond.”

Skye thought about that later as he slipped into Katrina's suite and made his way to the bedroom. In the dark silence of the room he could hear her soft breathing, deep and even in sleep. As always, he could feel his body respond to her nearness and the thought of her with instant heat and need. These explosive emotions caught at his breath and his heart, clouding his mind until he was aware of nothing but his own driven urgency.

He stripped away his clothing rapidly and slid beneath the covers beside her. She was unaware of him in sleep, and he couldn't stand that; he wanted her aware of him all the time, just as he was always aware of her. It took two to build a bond, Dane had said, and the only certainty Skye had was that the desire between him and Katrina was a bond. She had told him with a steady voice and wary eyes that what was between them would soon burn itself out; he meant to prove to her how wrong she was about that.

He drew her slender, naked body into his arms and kissed her slightly parted lips, the sweet taste of her going to his head like raw brandy. She was warm and pliant, her flesh satin beneath the searching touch of his hands. She purred sleepily and cuddled closer, and that unconscious trust yanked a low groan from his very depths.

Dear Lord, he wanted her! He wanted to make himself a part of her until she could never escape him even in her most deeply buried thoughts, until she could never hide from him again. “Trina,” he muttered, only half conscious of the jagged need in his own voice.

Her eyes fluttered open and her arms lifted lazily to his neck as he rose above her. “Again?” Her voice was throaty and wondering, and quick, passionate excitement flickered in her beautiful amber eyes.

“Again,” he whispered, watching her face as he eased into her slowly. Her body accepted him instantly, completely, and he shuddered in stark pleasure as her tight heat surrounded him. Burying his face in the wild silk of her hair, he uttered thickly, “Again…and again…”

He couldn't move slowly now, his body responding to her sensuous grasp with lightning intensity and out of his control. The hunger he felt was ravenous, consuming, as if his very survival depended on this compulsive joining.

Katrina held on to him helplessly, no longer surprised by her body's instantaneous desire for him. Even just barely awake she was on fire for him, tension building in her with the force of a storm trapped under glass. He was moving inside her with compelling power, his big body above her like the vast shadow of some bird of prey, holding her trapped in a suspension greater than terror.

I love you.
Her lips moved to shape the words she thought he wouldn't want to hear, her hands gripping his shoulders as her body wildly returned the slamming force of his. It was insanity, what he made her feel, a sweet madness she had no hope of controlling. All she could do was give way to the domination of it. From her throat came winging sounds like the sharp cries of some primitive creature, and she was unaware of the hot tears escaping from her closed eyes.

She was blind and deaf to everything except the sudden explosion of ecstasy that shattered her senses, and she could only hold him with what strength was left to her as his powerful body shuddered in a violent release.

Katrina returned to earth gradually, aware first of the weight of his body. She didn't want him to move, and some dim instinct told her it was because, in these lingering, peaceful moments after lovemaking, he was as vulnerable as she was, as trapped as she was.

Skye raised himself slowly on his elbows, the muscles of his arms quivering slightly. Even in the darkness she could see the luminous force of his eyes and the rough charm of his crooked smile. Then the smile died as his thumb brushed the wet skin near her temple.

“Tears?” His voice was low. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she said.

“I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart.” He hesitated, then said huskily, “I lose control when I'm with you. But if I've hurt you, tell me.”

She lifted her head from the pillow and kissed his hard shoulder. “You haven't.” And before he could probe to discover the source of her tears, she sacrificed a bit of pride to observe wryly, “I haven't exactly been passive myself.”

“No, you haven't.” He kissed her with unusual gentleness, as if he realized the cost of that admission. “I thought you had fire years ago, but I could never find it. It drove me half crazy. I should have realized you were too young then.”

Katrina wasn't about to tell him that it wasn't a woman's body but a woman's love that had sparked that fire. She resisted the urge to protest when his weight left her, and cuddled close when he drew her firmly into his arms. It had given her a tinge of hope at first, this habit he had of holding her even after sleep claimed him. But then she had reminded herself that he was an extremely sensual man, and that it was no doubt his practice with all his bedmates.

It hurt.

He lost control with her, yes, but she had no way of knowing if that was unusual for him. The stoic voice in her head reminded her that he was by nature impatient and impetuous; given the enormous life force his big body held, she'd be a fool not to believe that sex had always been a release of sheer energy for him.

His arms tightened around her suddenly. “What is it?”

She wondered if he was beginning to read her mind, or if she had made some sound of pain. “Nothing. I was just wondering—” She broke off, fighting the urge to ask him.

“Wondering what?”

“It doesn't matter.”

“Tell me.”

Katrina cast the answer around in her mind. “Oh, just about you and Dane. You said years ago that he was your partner, and he's here now. So I was wondering about that.”

Skye was silent for a moment, and then he shifted position, removing one arm from around her and propping his head on his hand so that he could look down at her. She realized vaguely that he always did that, watched her while he talked to her as if he were looking for something. And she had no doubt he could see her more clearly than she could see him; she couldn't hide from his vivid eyes in the darkness.

“We've been partners for ten years,” he told her.

Katrina, a trained agent, could see the possibilities. “Did you use your…your uniqueness?”

He nodded slightly. “It was always our edge. We worked all over the world at first, but after Germany…”

“I ruined it for you,” she said in a low voice.

The arm across her waist tightened. “Not really,” he told her in a considering tone. “I'd been using my real name, but they didn't have a photograph of me. The chances were good that I could have remained effective in Europe. But Dane and I were approached by a man who headed a domestic intelligence operation, and the offer was a good one. We were ready for a change.”

“And no one knew you were twins?”

“Just Daniel. Dane had already developed an international reputation as a gambler, so we made his the public persona.”

She saw his mouth twist suddenly, and felt a pang as she began to understand. “You were the one in the shadows?”

“Yes.” His voice roughened. “It's where I wanted to be, hiding in the dark.”

Like a wounded animal, she thought, and the pang was sharper this time. She made herself lie quietly even though she wanted to throw her arms around his neck, to comfort him somehow even though she found it hard to believe that anything could have done that to him. “Because…of Germany?”

“Does that surprise you?” He was very still, his gaze fixed intently on her face.

Katrina couldn't begin to read his expression in the darkness, and his steady voice gave her no clue to his thoughts or feelings. “Yes,” she said finally, honestly.