Pandora's Box (2 page)

Their bodies, side by side, they faced each other, too intimate.
 
She felt every hot breath he expelled.
 
Thighs rubbed together.
 
Stomachs bumped.
 
The tips of her breasts brushed against his hard chest.

It took what seemed like several minutes, painful groans, and more strength than
Madison
knew she had before the door budged a crack.
 
Water flowed in instantly, liquid ice.
 
She nearly stopped pushing, but the man with her spoke up sharply, reading her mind.

“Come on!
 
Don’t stop.
 
A little more.”

Water reached their bodies on the seat.
 
Soon they’d be covered.
 
The pressure was starting to equalize.

Madison
dug fingernails into the seat for leverage.
 
She pushed as hard as she could.
 
The muscles in her calves and thighs began to shake.
 
She felt like giving up, but then her father’s voice screamed at her from the past.

Don’t you say you can’t!
 
You can!
 
Say it!
 
SAY IT!

“I can do it,” she grunted.
 
Forgetting she wasn’t alone, she shouted, “Do it!”

Newly found strength ignited her body and soul.
 
She groaned in pain, pushing with all of her might.
 
The door opened wider and the ocean flooded in.
 
She took a quick breath, only filling her lungs halfway to capacity.
 
It would have to do.

Madison
twisted around and swam out the door.
 
She kicked with her sneaker-clad feet, but her clothing grew heavy with water and weighed her down.
 
What little strength she had was ebbing fast.
 
She pushed the torn gray coat off her shoulders and forced it down her arms.
 
The thing clung to her like a stubborn octopus.
 
Some precious air burst from her lips and tiny bubbles took it away.
 
Time was running out.
 
She couldn’t hold her breath forever.

The clinging material finally released her and sank to the bottom of the sea.
 
She started to ascend.
 
Then she realized the sexy imposter hadn’t passed her by yet.
 
She turned, her eyes searching for him in the dark water.
 
He was caught in the open door of the car.
 
Something had his foot tangled.
 
He was fighting viciously, a man desperate to escape.
 

Madison
swam back for him.

He shook his head fiercely and pointed up, wanting her to leave him.
 
Stubborn bastard would probably rather die than accept help.
 
A kindred spirit, she thought with a grimace.
 
A couple more bubbles escaped her mouth.
 
It only took a few seconds for her to reach him, but it passed like minutes.
 
She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold her breath.

If they died, they died together.
 
She never left anyone behind, not even when they were uninvited and unwanted.
 
The man was a stranger to her, but fate had made him her partner.
 
She wasn’t going to let him die.
 

Madison
pushed against the man’s chest to keep him from interfering with his rescue.
 
She climbed halfway back into the car, her upper body fitting snugly between his large body and the car’s metal frame.
 
It didn’t take long to find the problem.
 
His wide shoelaces had caught on a lever just below the driver’s seat.
 
She pulled on it, but it held tight.
 
Neither of them could go without oxygen much longer.

Decision made, she ripped the shoe off his foot with fierce determination.
 
He was free.
 
The last of
Madison
’s air left her lungs in a desperate
Whoosh!
of bubbles.
 
The dark water seemed to close around her.
 
She fought a sudden rush of panic.
 
If she lost it now, she’d drown for sure.
 

Sensing she was in trouble, he grabbed her arm and pulled her along with him.
 
For a big guy, he was graceful, at least in the water.
 
He let go halfway there, giving her the space she needed to swim.
 
They kicked their legs and used their hands to claw at the encompassing water.
 
Madison
could see the sky above the water’s surface, but she couldn’t tell how close she was to breaking free of her wet grave.
 
Any second, she shouted in her mind, any second I’ll find air.

Unable to restrain any longer,
Madison
opened her mouth.
 
Water flooded inside.
 
The need to breathe was too strong to be ignored.
 
Salt water choked her, but she refused to die here like this.
 
Madison
closed her eyes and kicked viciously one last time.

Her head broke through the surface.
 
She coughed and sputtered as her lungs tried to expel water.
 
A wave broke over her head.
 
Another mouthful.
 
Near panic, she struck out for the dock with both arms.
 
Something bumped in to her, and she realized the stranger was beside her again.
 

Madison
grabbed the edge of the wooden pier and heaved herself halfway up until she could lean over it.
 
Relief.
 
She looked around, taking in the scene from a professional standpoint.
 
The perp, also known as Nancy-girl, had been taken down.
 
Two of the agents were sitting on her while a third cuffed her hands behind her back.
 
They had removed the bomb from her body before she could set it off.
 
The man who’d blocked them in with his truck had also been arrested.
 
He limped between two agents, apparently shot in the leg.
 

The man beside her climbed onto the pier and turned to offer his hand.
 
Madison
ignored it.
 
She used her remaining strength to join him.
 
She realized she came off as a hard-core bitch at times, but she knew if she gave a chauvinistic male like the ones she worked with on a daily basis an inch, they would slap her in a frilly dress before she could spell her own name.

“Where’d you go,
Madison
?” Agent Ellis asked as he passed them, a wide smirk on his narrow face.

Ignoring him, she marched across the street to her superior who was busily waving a clipboard around, shouting orders.
 
She smelled a rat.
 
Why was Agent Tony DeMarco on the scene?
 
And how had he gotten there so fast?

Her clothes weighed her down, slow yet determined steps.
 
The shirt and pants fit like a second skin now, clinging to every curve of her body.
 
Her anger kept her warm in the chilly afternoon air.
 
It took a lot for her to keep from yelling at her boss.
 

“Where in the hell is the president, Marc?”

DeMarco barely glanced at her.
 
He was average height and build, a normal looking guy with light brown hair and chocolate eyes.
 
He had a nice face, not handsome, but nice.
 
The only thing extraordinary about him was his irresistible smile, a smile he didn’t share very often with those around him.
 
He held his emotions in check, which was probably why she’d been attracted to him in the first place.

“They took him to the airport by another route,” replied Agent DeMarco.
 
“He’s safely aboard Air Force One.”

“You knew this was a decoy mission!”

“I was under strict orders not to tell you.”
 
He finally took a good long look at her and shook his head in dismay.
 
“Get out of those wet clothes before you freeze to death.
 
Worry about who knew what when later.”

DeMarco would have walked away then, but
Madison
grabbed his arm and jerked him back to face her.
 

“I want to know now!”
 
A few of the other agents turned in their direction, distracted by her raised voice.
 
She talked softer.
 
Wet strands of hair had escaped her ponytail.
 
She absently tucked them behind her ear.
 
“When they ordered you not to fill me in, did you fight for me, Marc?
 
Did you tell them I could be trusted?
 
Did you bother to point out my years of strong service with the CIA?”

“Of course I did.”
 
His eyes went south for a moment, indicating he was lying.
 
“You can always trust me, Madison.”

Yeah, right.

She took a deep breath and swallowed the pain of betrayal.
 

Changing tracks, she asked, “Who’s the newbie?
 
I wasn’t aware we had any openings.”

“Be nice, Maddie.”
 
DeMarco smiled—big and fake—over her shoulder at the newcomer.
 
He spoke through clenched teeth like a bad ventriloquist.
 
“That guy is a former Navy SEAL with medals up the ying-yang.
 
He comes highly recommended.”

“By who?”

“Oh, just the president of the
United States
.”

Madison
’s dark eyes narrowed with suspicion.
 
“Since when does the president hand-pick agents for the service?”
 
She turned to look at the stranger again, this time from afar and without a return appraisal from him.
 
The new guy walked in the other direction with Agent Ellis, talking to him amicably.
 
From her vantage point, his left leg seemed a bit stiff.
 
The knee didn’t bend much as he walked.
 
Old injury?
 

“Come on, Maddie.”
 
DeMarco rolled his eyes at her.
 
“You can’t be that out of the loop.
 
That’s the president’s son, the great Tyler Law in the flesh.”

Her mouth formed a silent ‘O.’

And what incredible flesh it was.

Her gaze drifted in his direction, looking at him with newfound respect.
 
She’d developed a bit of a crush on
Tyler
over the last several months.
 
The first lady talked about her son non-stop, telling stories about his wild adventures as if he was a super hero.
 
The president told stories too, but his were saved for the media.
 
He rarely mentioned his son without a camera in his face.

She hadn’t seen a picture of
Tyler
.
 
She hadn’t needed one to develop her crush.
 
After hearing all those stories about him being an adventurous hero afraid of nothing, she’d decided they were soul mates.
 
Thank the heavens she hadn’t told anyone about her little infatuation.
 
It could have proved embarrassing.

Her eyes drifted down the man’s muscular body, reassessing him with new purpose.
 
Tyler Law.
 
Wow!

DeMarco interrupted her thoughts with, “At least go get under a blanket before your teeth break from chattering.”

She blinked at him twice before the words sank in.
 
She wrapped her arms around her shaking wet body and headed for a fellow agent who happened to be holding his cell phone.
 
She needed to make a call.
 
Then she wanted a dry change of clothes, a warm shower, and a hot beverage.
 
Not necessarily in that order.

Madison
purposely walked in the opposite direction of the president’s son.

******

Tyler Law leaned back against Agent DeMarco’s car and crossed his legs in casual defiance.
 
He patted his wet pockets, dipped his fingers into each one before he realized he was absently searching for a cigarette.
 
He wouldn’t find one, of course.
 
He’d given up smoking three days ago after a long lecture from his physician.
 
During that short time the craving had turned from a pesky mosquito in to a seven-foot monster with fangs.
 

Damn.
 
He’d chosen a lousy time to quit.