Deep Rising (An Outside the Lines Novel) (Entangled Select) (18 page)

“Who stands to gain if the coasts are ravaged?” Gordon wondered aloud. Ideas rushed through his head like water from a spigot. “Don’t tell anyone about this message. Do you understand? No one.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You did exemplary work.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Confer with our analysts. Get a fix on The Wolf. Use the location of this last correspondence as your starting point.”

Gordon patted Christopher on the back, and the younger man practically floated from the office. Sitting back at his desk, Gordon replayed the conversation.

He placed a call to his Navy counterpart.

“Pull the teams from the hot spots,” he instructed.

“The threat is neutralized?” General Greene asked.

“No. We may have an upper-level security breach. Keep your men in place, but make sure they’re invisible. We’ll be on full alert for the next ten days.” Or more if the bastards weren’t apprehended. “Correspond with no one save me.”

“Affirmative. Be careful, Gordon.”

“I will.”

He logged in to his personal files, the encrypted computer files containing the personnel information no one could access save him. The contact information displayed on the screen. Next, he activated the locating device surgically implanted in every top- level operative. Few people knew that kind of technology existed—micro-transmitters capable of passing radio
and
x-ray detection—and fewer agents were aware of harboring the locators. When it came to guard dogs of the ol’ US of A, tight leashes were in order.

The computer screen dimmed and pulsed, then a detailed map with a moving yellow dot appeared on the screen.

“Gotcha,” Gordon murmured. He picked up the phone and placed another call.

An older woman answered the line. “Hello?” she rasped.

“Mrs. Caldwell, I’m sorry to intrude upon you at this hour. This is Gordon Quaid. I’m the deputy director of the CIA…”

Chapter Twenty-Two

October 16 - 3:56 am

Roane County, Tennessee

An eerie silence prevailed as Jared and Lana hiked along the mountain. They’d taken time to feed the horses, who did not appreciate the rumbling nighttime wake-up that resulted from stashing the Suburban in the stables.

“How many acres does your family own?” Lana asked.

“A thousand, but only half is good for grazing. The quarter horses are bred, broken, and pastured. Twice a year, the colts and fillies are taken to auction. Mama has a good eye for stock. She barters for stud services and occasionally purchases extra mares.”

“Aren’t they in danger? Left alone in the fields?”

“Paddocks, honey. And the biggest threat would likely be theft. Not that that’s so easy to do, in this day and age. The fences are maintained. The roads and paddocks are equipped with lighting and motion sensors. We’ve got some black bear out here and the occasional coyote, but those predators aren’t fool enough to attack a two-thousand-pound horse.”

The stars overhead shimmered. Here, like at her home in Washington, they experienced less scattered light. The nights seemed darker, but the stars overhead compensated.

“I like it here,” she admitted.

“Enough to stay, if we get this mess sorted out?”

Her answer was swift and honest, “Yes.” If she stopped for a moment to think about the insanity of her situation or how she’d fallen for a man who for all intents and purposes could’ve been her executioner—well, she might go a little crazy. Or
crazier
, as it were. “I don’t want to give up my cabin. Although…”

“A cleaning crew will have swept through. It’s protocol. If you can forget about those men I killed, I’d like you to hang on to the place. It’s peaceful. I’ll be needed here for a while, but if you decide Tennessee isn’t for you, we can go back.”

“The place doesn’t matter so much, I’m discovering. It’s the people. I need to be with you. You need to be here. It simplifies everything.”

“I’ve rushed you into a lot of things, Lana. I don’t want where we live to be one of them. We can take it slow. One day at a time.”

“That’s all we can do at this point.”

Unfortunately, this was true. Sure, she would’ve loved to stomp her feet and scream at the injustice and unfairness of the world, but it wouldn’t change a damn thing. Did they deserve a reprieve—heck, after what they’d endured on Hawaii, they deserved the whole happily-ever-after enchilada. But life had served up another course of problems, and they’d just have to choke it down and pray that eventually they’d be free of strife and danger. Until then, it was just like Jared said, one day at a time.

He didn’t make promises or pledges about love and commitment, and she didn’t ask for them. For people who lived on the edge, enjoying each day sufficed, and for Lana, running from assassins was about as edgy as she could envision. Uncertainty clouded their future. Too many variables existed to plan ahead or to consider the kind of longevity most people—erroneously—took for granted.

Lord, but there was something simple and instinctual in that. Something that stripped away all the stresses of tomorrow and what-ifs and whens. For so long she’d been wrapped up in “tomorrows” she’d forgotten what it meant to really live each day. Sadly, it had taken nearly dying and several terrorist-induced excursions to bring her to her “happy place.” Better late than never.

She stumbled over the terrain, her foot catching on a branch. Jared righted her before she took a header into the hillside.

“I have a flashlight,” he said. “But I’d rather not use it. We’re almost there.”

She could distinguish his smile in the dark. “Liar. How’s your leg holding up?”

“About as well as your arm.”

She squeezed his hand. Jared’s handsome face and physique so enthralled her that Lana questioned her own good fortune. His chin, shadowed now, appeared stubbly. But the scruffiness suited him. He flourished as a mountain man. Rugged, reliable, straightforward. She’d witnessed his temper, understood he could cut to the bone with words or berate with a stare.

But so much more lay beneath.

The hunting shed came into view.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Lana whispered. “Another hour of this and you would’ve been forced to carry me.”

“I like carrying you,” Jared said. Last time he’d carried her it had been into her bedroom. “Let me inspect the inside before you get your hopes up. If the roof is compromised we might be stuck outside or forced to hike back down the mountain.”

An unpleasant thought.

Jared pulled a set of keys from his pocket and opened the padlock on the door.

“Where did those keys come from?”

Jared undid the lock. “I palmed them from the hook in my sister’s kitchen. You were too busy fretting about hidden assassins to notice.”

“Hmm.”

“Stand back a few feet,” Jared suggested. “Wait by the pile of firewood.”

Lana obliged while Jared slipped into the rustic cabin.

He reappeared seconds later. “Aside from a lot of cobwebs the room is clear.” He grabbed an armful of wood. “No,” he told her when she reached to assist him. “I’ll get ’em. Don’t strain your arm.”

Lana complied, waiting patiently for Jared to stack a load of logs across his forearm and precede her into the darkened lodging.

“Once I get a fire going we’ll be able to see what we’re working with.”

“May I use the flashlight now?” Lana asked.

“Yes. No one followed us here.”

He said it with such certainty, she believed him. She flicked on the flashlight and scanned the single open room. A wooden table with four chairs was in a corner. A kerosene lantern rested in the center of it. Tucked against the opposite wall, she noticed a large wooden trunk. Aside from those scant pieces of furniture, the small cabin remained bare.

She discerned a broom beside the mantel. She held the flashlight in one hand, keeping the stream of light in front of her as she swept the cabin floor. Years of dust piled beneath each sweep. Angling at the ceiling, she thought about tackling the spiderwebs, but ultimately decided to leave the spiders in place. If they were happy in their webs why send them scurrying around?

The trunk creaked as Jared opened it, and it drew Lana’s attention. She observed him poking around for a minute before locating a box of matchsticks. He glanced at her. “I need the light.”

She handed him the flashlight, and he crouched in front of the fireplace. He poked his head up the chimney, flicking on the light.

“How’s it look?” she asked.

“I can’t see much.” He reached up and adjusted the flue. “I hope it’s clear.”

He retrieved the stack of logs that he had dropped before the hearth and piled them on the grate. “There’s some old newspaper in the trunk.”

She quickly procured the paper and twisted the newsprint into candle-like tinder. She shoved the rolled paper beneath the grate and between the stacked logs. Same as she would with the wood-burning stove on the porch of her cabin.

Jared struck a match. “Here we go.” He pressed the match to the paper. “If birds have decided to nest in the chimney it’s going to get real smoky in here real fast.”

“Great.”

Lana waited with bated breath. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her, and she couldn’t bear to think about hiking down the mountainside.

The logs ignited. Jared stoked the flames with a poker, kindling the fire to life. The cabin filled with heat and light and—thankfully—no smoke.

Lana took a moment to bask in the warmth.

She unrolled the blanket Jared had thought to bring along. She positioned it close enough to the fireplace to keep them warm but not so close for cinders to reach. She rolled their jackets into makeshift pillows, tying the sleeves around the bundles to hold them in place.

Jared handed her a bottle of water.

Lana drank sparingly and handed it back to him.

“What now?” she asked him.

He smiled.

Jared kissed her, his tongue slipping past her lips to probe the recesses of her mouth. Lana’s arms wound around his neck, and she rose on her toes to press her body against his. Had she been tired? She wasn’t now. He lifted her, banding his arms around her back and aligning her softest areas with his hardened flesh. She wrapped her legs around his waist. He held her suspended like this, until her hips writhed against him on their own accord. Only then did he set her down. Standing so close to him, she was reminded of his strength. He topped her by several inches and muscles rippled in his forearms. He removed her sweater and carefully folded it. His calloused fingers traced along her arms, across her collarbone and to her breasts. He lowered his head and nuzzled her neck, his lips and stubbled chin searing a path along her skin. Unsnapping her bra, the scrap of fabric dropped atop her sweater and his hands molded to her completely.

“You taste so sweet.”

After hiking uphill for the better part of the night, she doubted it. But his reverent touch and the way he breathed deeply against her neck, absorbing her scent, made her believe him.

Lana reached for him, drawing off his shirt and jacket. Taking his gun and holster, she placed them within reach on the floor. He shifted and she felt his growing desire pushing against her stomach. Knowing she aroused him, feeling him pulse and thicken beneath her hands, was heady. She stopped touching him only long enough to unzip her jeans and shimmy out of her denim and panties. She reached for his belt.

“Not yet, darlin’.”

He knelt before her. A tug on her hands and Lana dropped to her knees.

Pressing a hand to her chest, Jared encouraged her to lie down completely.

He kissed a path from her breasts to her navel. He bit at her hips. Without warning, his lips descended. His mouth found the heart of her, lingering within inches of the prize. She could feel his warm breath fanning over her already-heated flesh.

“Jared?”

“Hmm?” His lips hummed against her most sensitive flesh, catalyzing a chain reaction of chills and burning heat. His mouth molded, his tongue teased. When she tried to draw back, he caught her hips and held her in place.

She could not escape his sensual onslaught. And as that first glorious release crested over her, she wondered why she would want to.

She shattered once, twice, again. The orgasm went on and on and then he was inside her, thrusting hard and deep. She didn’t know when or how he had shed his pants. Didn’t know how her body could even accommodate something so large and hard. But the fullness, that glorious glowing pulse…

She wrapped her arms around him, fingers gliding along every curve of his strong back. He braced above her, muscles straining, body slicked with sweat. Firelight rippled over his skin. And like fire, they burned.

…

The sun had already crested when Lana awakened. Jared slept on, and she didn’t move so as to not wake him. The hike, the drive, all of the added pressure on his leg inexorably took a toll on his health. And she remembered Washington, where he’d been in as bad a shape as she. Yet he had made love to her as though impervious to pain or exhaustion. Thinking about the time and effort he devoted to her pleasure, Lana’s heart swelled in her chest.

The fire had extinguished at some point during the night and brisk air permeated the old cabin floor. Lana wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and twisted to press against Jared’s back.

Her eyes rounded when she noticed a woman standing before the window.

“’Bout time you woke up,” the woman said.

“Jared, do something,” Lana hissed.

He cracked an eye, closed it again. “Morning, Mama.”

The older woman laughed, a surprisingly husky sound. “I’ll be outside. Get dressed.”

Lana sprang to her feet and started jerking on her clothes.

“Easy, darlin’.”

Her face flamed. She wasn’t a prude. But she wasn’t one to prance about undressed, and certainly not post-sex. “I’ve never been so embarrassed in all my life!”

Jared chuckled.

“It isn’t funny. We are… She saw us…”

“Naked? She’s my mother, Lana. At one point she used to wash my hide.” He shrugged. “You’re both women.”

There were times she appreciated his practical side and level head. This wasn’t one of them.

He waited only until she dressed to holler, “Come in, Mama.”

The woman opened the door and stepped into the cabin, revealing that she had not gone far.

“Hello, Mrs.…” Lana halted. Should she call him Hawthorne as he’d originally introduced himself?

“Oh, Jared,” the woman laughed. “This is priceless. She doesn’t know your last name!”

Lana’s face heated. Great, now she was sounding like some silly country song. She punched Jared in the stomach. This set his mother into another chortle.

“It’s Caldwell, Lana,” he replied patiently. “It isn’t her fault, Mama. I used an alias earlier. Mama, this is Svetlana.”

The woman stopped chuckling. She walked straight up to Lana and captured her face. “Don’t mind my teasing, honey.” She sported a smile identical to her son’s. His mother continued to turn Lana’s face from side to side, studying her much as one might scrutinize a horse.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Lana straightened her shoulders. The woman responded by kissing Lana’s brow. “Welcome. I’m Annabelle.” Glancing at her son, she said in a tremulous voice, “You’ve been away too long.”

Jared swept his mother off her feet. He spun her around and noisily kissed her cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

The woman started crying. Jared whispered something to his mother too softly for Lana to overhear. The woman cried in earnest then. It took a few seconds, but when she finally garnered control of her emotions, it was as if the tears had not fallen.

“You’re in trouble, baby,” his mother said. “Your boss called.”

“Who?”

“Quaid.”

Jared kept hold of his mother’s hand. “I’m sorry about Julia,” he whispered. “I wanted to be here, but I couldn’t. I was on a mission…”

Jared had told Lana that he’d been in the hospital at the time. Guess he didn’t want his mother to know she could’ve lost
both
of her children.

“You’re here now, son. That’s what matters.”