Operation: Midnight Tango (14 page)

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he said sharply.

She blinked, stunned as much by the unreason
able question as by his angry tone. “I could ask you the same thing,” she replied, equally sharply.

Releasing her abruptly, he stumbled back, staring at her as if he’d just realized she was a danger to him. “I’m going to take a shower,” he said.

“Devlin—”

“Get some sleep.” Turning away from her, he crossed to the bathroom, stepped inside and slammed the door behind him.

Chapter Eleven

Zack didn’t bother with the hot water. Not that the cold water was helping much. He’d been standing beneath the spray for going on ten minutes and his erection was showing no signs of abating anytime soon.

So much for keeping a professional distance.

“You’re a bloody idiot,” he muttered as he rinsed the soap from his face.

Cursing, he switched off the water and yanked a towel off the rack. When was he going to learn that women and undercover work were a deadly mix? Hadn’t he learned his lesson with Alisa?

The thought of the female agent who’d lost her life because of him twisted his gut into an all too familiar knot. Two years ago he and Alisa Hayes had partnered to work on breaking up a terrorist camp in the west Texas desert. It had been a tough assignment. Zack and Alisa had approached the group passing as illegal-weapons brokers and had infiltrated the group. But instead of concentrating solely
on the mission, Alisa had ended up in his tent one night and Zack hadn’t sent her away.

After that encounter, Zack had lost all objectivity. He’d lost his concentration. His focus. By the time he realized he’d screwed up, it was too late. Alisa was dead and Avery Shaw had a bullet in his spine. Was Zack going to make the same mistake all over again with Emily?

Zack flung open the door. He couldn’t believe he was getting himself into the same mess. Two people he’d cared deeply for had paid a very steep price because he hadn’t had the discipline to keep his hands off—

The sight of Emily curled on the bed, fast asleep, stopped him cold. She was lying on her side with her arms crossed, her face relaxed. Her lashes were like black velvet against her pale complexion. Her full lips were partially open and looked incredibly inviting, reminding him of what it had been like to kiss her. The robe she was wearing had ridden up slightly, and he could see the velvet flesh of her thighs. For a full minute he stood there captivated, watching her sleep.

Zack knew better than to take those few treacherous steps to the bed. If he got any closer, he would touch her. And this time he wouldn’t stop with just touching her. Considering the way she’d responded just a few minutes earlier, he wasn’t certain she would either. A disaster waiting to happen.

So how are you going to keep her safe when you’ve got your hands all over her? The same way you kept Alisa safe?

Ignoring the hot rush of blood to his groin, Zack crossed to her. Standing at the edge of the bed, he gazed down at her. She was long legs and lush flesh rolled into a tempting-as-hell package. He could smell the shampoo and soap she’d used in her recent shower. He’d seen her panties and bra hanging neatly in the bathroom and knew she wasn’t wearing a thing beneath that robe….

“Don’t even go there,” he muttered, bending to her.

She groaned and shifted restlessly when he pulled the down comforter up and over her. “Zack?”

“Go to sleep,” he whispered.

But Zack knew that was the one thing that would not come to him right now.

EMILY WOKE WITH A START and she sat up. Bright sunlight spilled in through a single draped window. The air smelled slightly of wood smoke. Briefly she was disoriented, not remembering where she was. Then she remembered Zack Devlin. The situation at Lockdown, Inc. Going into Signal Research and Development. The chase through the night. And that hot, hot kiss they’d shared.

She knew without even glancing around that Zack was gone. He was the kind of man whose presence she could feel. Even with her eyes closed she would know if he was in the room. She tried to deny the stab of disappointment, to deny that she’d been looking forward to seeing him.

Tossing off the comforter, she padded to the bath
room, then she switched on the television. The four-cup coffeemaker was on and half-full, so she poured herself a cup. A news story on the TV grabbed her attention as she took her first sip.

“There was an escape last night from the Bitterroot maximum-security prison near Salmon.” The pretty blond reporter’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she read the news report. “Irish terrorist Zack McKinnon, who is serving a life sentence on multiple counts of murder, escaped last night with the help of a female corrections officer. The jailbreak left two inmates dead and launched the largest manhunt this peaceful, rural area has ever seen. The manhunt is continuing this morning.”

“What?”
Emily nearly choked on her coffee. Her gut tightened when both her and Zack’s photos flashed on the screen.

The reporter continued. “Channel 53 was on the scene first thing this morning and got the following statement from prison administrator Marcus Underwood.”

Underwood stepped up to the mike. “At approximately three o’clock this morning, convicted Irish terrorist Zack McKinnon murdered two fellow inmates and, with the help of a female corrections officer, escaped. Lockdown, Inc. is using every resource available, including local law enforcement and our own SORT team, to apprehend this convicted killer and his accomplice.”

A second stark black-and-white photo flashed on the screen. Emily’s stomach began to churn. It was
the security-camera photo taken in the prison locker room the moment Zack had kissed her. Her arms were around his neck, their bodies locked in a tight embrace.

“Oh, no,” Emily whispered.

The reporter continued. “Mr. Underwood, how do you explain this photo from the prison security cameras?”

Underwood frowned. “We feel that this female officer is confused and has inadvertently placed herself in grave danger. We appeal to her to turn herself over to authorities.”

“What can you tell us about McKinnon?” the reporter asked.

“He is responsible for the deaths of many people in Belfast, Ireland, as well as a triple homicide in Chicago three years ago. He is a violent sociopath, a con and a highly persuasive liar capable of elaborate schemes.”

“Is it true that this female corrections officer helped him escape?”

“We believe he convinced her that he is innocent. We believe she may be trying to help him when in reality she has put herself and our community at great risk. We appeal to both Ms. Monroe and McKinnon to turn themselves in.”

“What should someone do if they see them?” the reporter asked.

“Above all else, do not approach them. Both individuals are armed and should be considered extremely dangerous. Call Lockdown, Inc. or local law enforcement immediately.”

Two phone numbers flashed on the screen, but Emily barely heard the reporter recite them. Underwood’s words about Zack rang in her ears as loudly as the report of a gun.
He is a violent sociopath, a con and a highly persuasive liar capable of elaborate schemes.

Doubt once again rose inside her. Had Zack manipulated her? Had he lied to her to gain her trust? Was she making the same mistakes her father had made all those years ago?

Like father, like daughter….

She’d heard those words a thousand times as a teenager. Even though her father’s mistakes had been too complex for her to fully comprehend then, she’d hated him for humiliating her and her mother.

As an adult, Emily understood all too well what he’d done. Adam Monroe had sold his soul for a moment of physical pleasure with a female inmate. He’d traded his uniform, his self-respect and his dignity for sex.

And now she was making the same mistake.

“What have I done?” she whispered.

Rising, she darted to the bathroom, ripped off the robe and stepped into her clean underclothes. Yanking her uniform off the hook behind the door, she quickly dressed. Back in the room, she began to lace her boots. She wasn’t going to throw her life away because she was attracted to a smooth-talking con. She sure as hell wasn’t going to make the same mistake her father had made. She was going to go back to the prison and straighten things out.

She was striding to the door, yanking on her coat as she went, when it swung open. Zack stepped into the room. She froze as he took her measure. The boots. Her coat.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

“I’m going back to the prison to get things straightened out.”

His gaze bore into her. “Why the change of heart?”

“Because I know what you are.”

“And what is that?”

“You’re a con, a liar and a murderer.”

His gaze flicked to the television and then back to her. “Don’t believe what you hear on television.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Logic told her he was right; she’d seen the evidence they’d unearthed back at the laboratory. But it was confusion and emotion driving her, a fire driven by fear because her feelings for Zack had grown to dangerous proportions.

“They’ll kill you if you go back,” he said evenly.

“I’ll take my chances. At least with Lockdown I know where I stand.” She tried to brush past him, but he caught her arm.

Emily was ready for him. Swinging around, she shoved hard against his shoulder, hoping to propel herself back and through the door. But Zack was faster and countered her move by tightening his grip and pulling her toward him. Momentarily off balance, Emily stumbled. The next thing she knew, her body was flush against his. His eyes were dark with anger as they searched her face.

“I can’t let you walk out that door,” he said.

“Did you lie to me, Zack? Use me?”

“If I was interested in using you, I would have had you in my bed by now.”

She drew back to slap him, but he caught her wrist before her palm made contact with his face.

“I don’t know what you think you know, but I’ve never lied to you,” he said.

“I saw a news report, Zack. I know about your past. I know you’re a murderer. A terrorist.”

His lips pulled back in a sneer. “That’s a lie.”

“The local police are involved. I’m in serious trouble. They think I helped you escape.” Emily tried to twist away, but he tightened his grip and shook her gently.

“Listen to me,” he said. “I set up a meeting with my contact from MIDNIGHT. I have to be at the rendezvous point in half an hour.”

“MIDNIGHT doesn’t exist! It’s all a big lie.”

“Where is this coming from?” he asked.

“Lying is what you do, isn’t it, Zack? You lie to win someone’s trust? How do you do it? Do you lie to yourself, too? Is that how you live with yourself?”

“You don’t believe that.”

There was a part of her that desperately wanted to believe Zack. She needed to know she wasn’t like her father. But what about the news report?

“Give me a chance to prove to you I’m not lying,” he said.

Staring into his dark eyes, she could feel her
emotions spiralling. How could she feel this way about a man who may have murdered innocent people?

“Let go of me,” she said.

“Not a chance,” he said and lowered his mouth to hers.

ZACK KNEW BETTER THAN TO fight fire with fire. He knew he was only going to get burned. But he couldn’t stand the way she was looking at him. As if he were the lowest form of life on the planet. As if he were a killer and a liar and she didn’t believe a word he said.

He wasn’t quite sure when he’d started to care what she thought of him. But he did. Too much, if he wanted to be honest about it. Not because he needed her help. But because he couldn’t bear the thought of her believing he was a killer.

For the span of several seconds she fought him. She set her hands against his chest and pushed. But then her body went soft and slack against his. A sigh whispered across his cheek. The protest she was in the process of uttering came out as a moan. Then she was kissing him back and he forgot all about the mission, about crossing lines, about being a professional and doing the right thing.

Touching her had unleashed something inside him. Made him just a little bit insane. Insane to kiss her. To touch her. To be inside her.

Suddenly he realized they were standing at the front door, with cold air pouring in. Never taking his
mouth from hers, he pushed her into the room, closed the door and locked it. Then they were on the bed and he was unbuttoning her shirt. Need like he’d never known before churned inside him.

Her shirt fell open. Zack’s gaze swept over her breasts, and he was awed by the sheer perfection of her. That she would share this with him moved him. He could feel his emotions intensifying, making him feel things he did not want to feel. This was not the time for him to go off the deep end.

But then, he’d never had the best of timing when it came to women.

She quivered when he touched her breast.

Uncharacteristically uncertain, he ran his hands over her thin cotton bra with a feather touch. “Let me touch you.”

He didn’t wait for her permission and with the flick of his wrist unsnapped the front closure of her bra. The scrap of material fell open. Her nipples were large and erect, her belly taut and flat. When he looked into her eyes, he didn’t see a corrections officer but a woman he very much wanted to make love to.

“Emily…”

He kissed her hard on the mouth, then pulled back, shaken and awed. Her eyes shimmered. He saw uncertainty in their depths and put his hands on either side of her face, forcing her gaze to his. “I need for you to trust me,” he whispered.

“I’m afraid.”

“Of me?”

“Of what I feel for you. It’s messing with my head.”

His need for her was making it increasingly difficult for him to concentrate. He wanted her trust, but he’d reached a point where he could no longer keep himself from touching her.

“Me, too,” he said softly. “Trust your heart.”

The kiss was electric and he felt it all the way to his toes. He could feel his control slipping away, leaving him raw and aching with desire for this beautiful woman in front of him. He heard his name on her lips. Felt her arms going around him—