Body Double (25 page)

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Authors: Vicki Hinze

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“Yeah, why?” He clearly wasn’t tracking her train of thought.

“It’s portable,” she said, giving him a wisp of a wink. “Multitasking is a valuable tool, Mark.”

His gaze heated, glazed with a sensual fog. “You want to take it to the dock?”

He was playing dumb to tease her, and after all the tension, being playful was a welcome respite. Switching gears from life-threatening danger to a normal life was a lot easier with him than it ever had been alone. Wanting him to realize that, too, she tossed the playful tone right back at him, answering with a mysterious Mona Lisa smile. “Not exactly.”

They walked out into the sun.

“Captains?” The lieutenant who had given up his golf cart on their arrival met them at the mouth of the shed. “Colonel Drake’s ordered you back to Providence ASAP.”

Amanda tried not to resent passion being postponed, and
nodded, hoping she could conjure up at least a little more energy to hold her over until they had resolved whatever new crisis had arisen. “Thanks, Lieutenant. Can you give us a lift to the airstrip?”

“Sure thing, ma’am.”

“I wonder what this is about?” Mark asked, sliding onto the back ledge of the golf cart.

“I don’t know.” Amanda sat down beside him and wedged her hip between his and the wall of the cart. “But the way our luck’s been running, I’d say it’s a sure thing that whatever it is isn’t good.”

Chapter 20

M
ac provided a pilot to fly Amanda and Mark back to Florida.

They sprawled out in the cabin and slept like the dead, not waking until the pilot awakened them after he’d landed the C-5. Bleary-eyed, Amanda glanced at her watch. It was just before 2:00 a.m.

When they had taxied in and parked, the pilot opened the hatch, and she and Mark moved to leave the aircraft. “Thanks for bailing us out, Captain,” she told the pilot.

“No problem, ma’am. You two look pretty beat.”

An understatement if ever one had been uttered. Amanda walked out onto the steps and looked down. Kate stood at the edge of the flight line, waiting for them. “I told you it wasn’t going to be good,” Amanda muttered to Mark.

He didn’t bother to answer, just took a drink of water out of a fresh bottle and sighed, which said all that needed say
ing about both of them and their physical condition. They walked side-by-side over to where Kate stood.

“Tell me there’s not another crisis,” Amanda said. “I’m dead on my feet and Mark really needs a substantial meal.” He’d been munching on emergency rations since they’d left the cemetery, but she remembered the feel, and his stomach had to resemble a hollow pit.

“No new crisis,” Kate said, pointing to the car they were to get in.

Amanda walked toward it with Mark striding at her side at a good clip.

“Unfortunately, we’re still working on the old ones.” Kate tugged at her uniform skirt, cueing Amanda that she had run out of slacks, which was the only time, when given a choice, Kate ever opted for a skirt and the heels that went with it. The heels had her struggling to keep pace with Amanda and Mark. “This whole thing is so damn complex. It has more legs than a damn millipede.”

Mark looked as puzzled as Amanda. “Then what prompted the ASAP summons to return here?” he asked.

“You can thank Colonel Gray for that.” Kate frowned. “God, but that man’s a real piece of work.”

“What did he do now?” Amanda slid into the sedan’s passenger seat, then shut the door behind her.

Mark usurped the driver’s seat, leaving the back seat open for Kate.

She crawled inside, slammed the door and reached for her safety belt. “He petitioned Secretary Reynolds to reassign Mark as a liaison to the FBI to clear out the clutter in Texas and Kunz’s other compounds.”

“Texas?” Amanda shuddered. The compound was a heap of rubble in a barren desert. The only things moving around there were rattlesnakes and tumbleweed.

“Damn. He wants a finger in the operation, and I’m the
knuckle.” Mark cranked the engine, knocked the stick into Drive and hit the gas. “I don’t want to move again already—especially not to that hellhole.”

“He wants to punish you for hooking up with Amanda and siding with Drake against him, the petty bastard.”

Kate leaned forward and gave Mark a consoling tap on the shoulder. “But you’re not going to have to move. At least, not if Colonel Drake has her way.”

Amanda looked back at her. “What are you saying, Kate?”

“When Colonel Drake heard what Gray had done, she went to Secretary Reynolds, too. She said since Gray was willing to cut Mark loose anyway, she could really use his expertise in the S.A.S.S., which is where he belonged—with his own, not with the FBI. They wouldn’t utilize Mark’s special skills anyway, because he’s not one of them. His being there will just make everything a turf war over jurisdiction.” Kate grabbed a breath then continued. “Anyway, Secretary Reynolds talked with SAIC Mac about it, and then called back Colonel Drake.”

“Reynolds agreed to bring me to the S.A.S.S.?” Mark checked Kate out in the rearview mirror. “Just like that?”

“He’s considering it for twenty-four hours,” Kate said. “Until then, at Colonel Drake’s recommendation, he’s restricted you both to quarters.”

Amanda and Mark exchanged a glance and had to bite smiles off their faces. “Why?” Amanda asked because she was supposed to and not because she objected. She couldn’t be more pleased.

“Colonel Drake convinced him it would be in the best interests of the United States—integrity of the mission—to not have you two interact with anyone until you’ve had time to rest and then do a full debriefing. After that, she says, you can be informed of new intelligence gathered from the compounds and/or prisoners. Keep the chain of evidence clear and clean and not contaminate your statements.”

Mark looked at Amanda. “She’s giving us time alone to celebrate?”

Amanda nodded.

“Celebrate what?” Kate asked, her blue eyes dancing with curiosity.

“Surviving,” Amanda said, her voice deadpan flat.

“Right.” Clearly disappointed at being shut out of the inside loop, Kate sniffed. “Swing by headquarters and drop me off, Mark.”

Mark again sought Kate’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Don’t we have to report to Drake?”

“No, that’s why she sent me. She doesn’t want either of you at headquarters, on base, or even checking your voice mail until 10:00 a.m., day after tomorrow. You’re on isolated restriction to your quarters.”

He pulled up in front of the building housing headquarters and stopped near a concrete barrier. “God, I think I love that woman.”

“She has her moments.” Kate let out a little laugh and got out of the car. “Ten a.m. day after tomorrow. No phones, no news, no interaction with the outside world,” Kate reminded them. “Isolated restriction to quarters.”

“No problem.” Amanda promised.

“None at all.” Mark glanced over. When Kate shut the door and turned for the building, he looked back at Amanda and added, “I think you’ll probably sleep straight through until then.”

She slid closer to him on the seat and nuzzled his neck. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

 

Amanda didn’t make it out of the car much less to the bedroom.

It had been days since she’d really slept, and more days since that sleep consisted of more than stolen naps. But on
the short ride from the base to Mark’s house, Amanda had given in to her body and relaxed.

It was flattering, Mark thought, lifting her out of the car and carrying her into the house. She grunted twice but didn’t bat an eyelash. He’d bet he was the first man in her life she’d trusted enough to sleep the sound sleep she was indulging in now. Just as he’d bet she was the first woman with whom he’d sleep that sound sleep. It was born in trust. And until now, and with each other, neither of them had had people, much less lovers, they felt they could trust enough to be totally vulnerable around.

He carried her into the room he’d given her upon her first arrival, fully intending to share the bed with her. Not because he intended to make love with her anytime in the next few hours, though the idea certainly held appeal, but because he wasn’t ready to let go of her just yet. He thought he’d lost her.

In the tomb, through dark and empty hours, he thought he would never again see her alive. It had rattled him then, and it rattled him now. He didn’t need sex any more than she did at the moment.

There wasn’t a bone in his weary body that didn’t ache, or a muscle that wasn’t dancing with cramps, or a gray cell in his brain that didn’t beg for sleep. Yet as much as he needed relief from all those things, he needed something else more. He needed to hold her. To just hold her and let it sink in that she was safe, and they were together.

The truth bolted through him with such force if he hadn’t been holding her in his arms, he’d have fallen on his ass. He was in love with her. Totally and completely, head over heels, have-you-lost-your-ever-loving-mind-you-Delta-Force-idiot in love with her.

He didn’t have to like loving her—he knew for damn sure she wouldn’t like it—but he did have to accept it. He had avoided entanglements his whole life, particularly since join
ing Delta Force. That’s when he’d first invoked the six-date-limit rule. But the first time he had seen Amanda he had known that there was no way he could keep himself from her. She was going to take him down.

She had, and she’d been damn quick about doing it, too. But he seriously doubted she would ever love him back.

Like him?
Yes.
Care about him?
Yes.
Make love with him?
Well, she already had…more or less—and he’d spent a fair share of time in the tomb imagining how they’d been together. In his mind, he had been there with her. His double hadn’t been involved.

That she’d had the courage to tell him about the double meant even more to Mark. Trust. Respect. Integrity. He admired her for that. But did she love him? Could she ever love him?

He scrunched the pillow, moving it out of the way, and watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. He wouldn’t bet a nickel on it. Her father had destroyed the odds of her ever loving any man long before she’d even hit puberty.

Mark understood that, and made a conscious decision to never ask her for more than she could give him. He pulled back the covers and put her down on the bed, stripped off her shoes and clothes, down to her underwear, then removed his own, showered, and finally climbed into bed beside her.

As soon as the mattress sank under his weight, she scooted over, seeking him. He wrapped her in his arms and dropped a kiss to the crown of her head. She inhaled, let out a breathy little sigh he took to mean he smelled like himself so she could relax, and slung her leg over his, her head and hand on his chest, over his heart.

His throat felt like sandpaper. He craved a glass of water, but not enough to leave her arms to get one. Sighing his contentment, he closed his eyes…

Sometime later, Amanda fought to awaken. It was daylight
outside. The blinds at the windows were closed, keeping the room in near darkness, but fingers of light edged in between the slats. She didn’t know where she was, but she felt a man’s weight in bed beside her.
Mark.

If they’d made love and she’d slept through it, she was really going to be ticked off. She smiled at her own absurdity. There was no way she could have slept through making love with Mark Cross—not with the fire between them.

He smelled good, fresh and clean. He’d showered—and obviously she hadn’t. Tilting her head, she looked into his face. Sleeping soundly.

She eased out of bed and into the bathroom, used the facilities and took a long, steamy hot shower. The soap and water stung her cuts and she had more than a few bruises, including a real winner along her jaw where Paul Reese had knocked her senseless. The water rippled over her body and pinged against the shower-stall floor. The moist heat felt fabulous on her sore muscles and between her stiff shoulders.

Seeing a bottle of shampoo on the ledge, she smiled. It was her brand. She soaked her hair and lathered it up, then rinsed and soaped it again. Arms up, she worked the shampoo through her hair when she heard Mark outside the shower stall. “Need anything?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“I missed you.”

Her heart warmed. “Really?”

He opened the glass door and stuck his head in the shower. “Yeah, really.”

She opened her arms. “Then come here.”

He joined her, then closed the door behind him and turned on the dual showerhead. They stood facing each other, the warm water massaging the muscles on their backs. Amanda smiled up at him, lifted a hand to his jaw, caressed him. “Did I miss anything while I was sleeping?”

The devil danced in Mark’s eyes and he teased her, “Only the best sex of your life.”

“Figures.” Teasing him back, she feigned a sigh. “Oh, well. It’s back to hot baths, good books and chocolate for me.”

He stepped closer. “There is an alternative.”

“Oh?” She moved toward him until their stomachs touched, her breasts rubbed against his chest. “What do you have in mind?”

“A second round.”

“Mmm.” She pretended to consider it, letting her hands drift down his chest to his sides, and couldn’t resist the urge to taunt him with an outright lie. “Hard to get enthusiastic when I have no recollection of the first round.”

“Right.” He gave her a killer smile that said he knew she wanted reminding of that imaginary first round, then bent to lay a row of butterfly kisses on her neck and throat. “Sometimes we only think we’ve forgotten,” he said, playing along with her. “The smallest thing can trigger total recall.”

“Smallest thing?” Her breath hitched and she sucked in deep.

“Mmm, a kiss.” He kissed her right below the clavicle, the nested valley between her breasts. “A nibble.” He straightened and caught her bottom lip, raked it suggestively with his teeth. “A look.” He lifted his head, his gaze on her brazenly hungry and smoldering.

“Enough playing,” she said on a hitched sigh. “Kiss me, Mark.”

“Gladly.” He closed his arms around her, pulled her to him and kissed her long and deep.

No tender exploration, this. This was a kiss steeped in passion, drenched in the desire to cut loose and satisfy or be consumed whole. His hands explored, his mouth plundered, and the combination sent her tumbling into a world of sensation that stacked layer upon layer of feelings and bared emotions
she never before had dared to let loose, never before been tempted to let loose.

Rioting on their own, these emotions rose up from hidden places inside her and expanded one upon another, and another, and yet upon another until logic and thought ceased and only raw emotion and acute awareness of everything about him remained.

They came together first in mind and then in body, seeking to pleasure, to be pleasured, holding nothing back, giving without thought to protections and shields and repercussions.

This was a time for celebration, for the sheer joy of living and loving and being loved, and together, they reveled in it until spent.

 

Twilight found them on the end of the dock, sitting in low-slung chairs, rocked back, downing huge quantities of water and dipping fishing lines into the bay. Amanda couldn’t remember ever in her life feeling this relaxed or satisfied.

It’d been a day of lovemaking, sleeping and eating—not necessarily in that order. And each time they had come together, it had been with the passion and urgency of the first time. That sense of total union. Amanda had never before felt it and brought it up to Mark. It was new to him, too, and they discussed and analyzed, put forth hypotheses and speculated, but neither was ready to admit out loud that what made their lovemaking so different from any other in their experience was love.

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