Pure Dynamite (27 page)

"Get me more on Montague, then. A man with those kinds of talents has real value. Now what did you find on those prison guards?"

Burt, who'd been quiet up till now, cleared his throat. "They both have a long history of shaking down inmates, but it looks like Irv Wallace—the guard who's missing—was working for the Feds. Lyle swears they left him behind. Uninjured. So
I'm
guessing the reports attributing his disappearance to the prison break are part of the FBI's propaganda campaign. I bet Wallace is sitting in a safe house somewhere."

"Probably. The FBI wants Lyle and Adam to look dirty as hell." Willy steepled his fingers. "Don't worry about the guard for now. There's too much heat and I don't want to jeopardize this job. It's bad enough Nevin almost blew it."

"But Pa—"

"Don't start. I've got enough problems. Once Lyle's better and that doctor's taken care of,
I'm
reeling Nevin in."

As Adam expected once Renata quit struggling, her body collapsed from sheer exhaustion. She hadn't slept more than a scattered handful of hours in the past three days. That lack combined with high stress had taken a toll.

Once more he marveled at her strength. She'd been abducted, threatened. Add to that her short-lived escape and subsequent injuries. Most people would have crumbled long before now.

They were lying side-by-side, his arm anchored loosely at her waist. She felt soft. Perfectly feminine. And that worried him.

He'd been aware of her as a woman from the beginning—since kissing her—but he'd controlled it. Hell, he'd had three months of prison to perfect his control.

But seeing her naked tonight had nearly killed him. He'd only gotten a couple of too-short glimpses of her breasts. They were high, firm. Large. With the prettiest nipples he'd ever seen. Little flashes of copper. He'd also caught a peek of the dark triangle of her pubic hair, a thick, coal-black pelt that his fingers ached to explore.

She'd kept her back to him, which he hadn't minded. The view had been lush. He'd admired every inch.

From her sweet ass, round and curved like a peach, to her trim waist and those distinctly female-flared hips.

He'd been fine with
looking ...
until she'd turned. Until she'd looked at him. All of him. His face. His scars. His cock. And for one infinitesimal moment— damn it—she had wanted
him.

He'd never had a woman look at him like that. With pure, sweet desire. Not lust. Not greed. Not excitement.
Want...
He'd nearly lost it.

In her sleep, she pressed her spine more fully into his belly, wriggling her butt even more snugly against his erection. He gritted his teeth. Damn thing would probably never go flaccid now.

Her snuggling was more proof of just how deeply she slept. If she were even semi-conscious, he was certain his cock would not be cradled so thoroughly.

He checked the time. While he desperately needed sleep himself, he had to try reaching
 
Stan again. And Ethan. Nevin's unexpected appearance was a positive sign. It meant they had to be close to Willy. Which underscored the urgency for releasing Renata.

Before Nevin showed up, Adam had debated telling her the truth. A sanitized version, at least. Now it was out of the question. If his cover were blown, they'd both be in danger. And Willy and sons would escape yet again.

The news of the deputy's death had solidified Adam's resolve to make certain the McEdwins were captured and brought to trial. For all their victims' sake: the thirteen people who died in an explosion outside a federal office in Chicago two years ago. The nine people in Omaha the year before that. Des
Moines...

The list of victims was long. Too long. Adam's sacrifices, Renata's hardships, were piddling compared to
the lives cut short. And now he had the chance to make sure no one else died.

Climbing from bed Adam tracked noiselessly across the room, avoiding the two boards that squeaked. With no windows in their bedroom he wasn't worried about leaving Renata alone for a few minutes.

He listened at the door, caught the heavy snoring. Nevin was asleep on the sofa, but like Adam he'd probably trained himself to awaken at the slightest noise.

Slipping into the bathroom, he turned on her cell phone. The LED indicated a strong signal, confirming that Stan had successfully reactivated the phone. He turned on the shower to muffle his conversation.

He tried Ethan first, hanging up when he got voice mail. Was he out at a fund-raiser? He dialed Stan, who answered on the first ring. Both men knew there was no time for chatting.

"About time," Stan said.

"What have you got?"

"Someone's checking you out. The Labyrinth files were hacked."

The Jade Labyrinth was part of Adam's fabricated past, designed solely to whet Willy's interest. "Think they bought it?"

"Of course! That was some of my best work."

"Any news on that C-4 you were tracking?"

"Nada. Except
I'm
not the only one sniffing around. Customs has put out feelers, too."

"Trouble?"

"Possibly."

"Keep on it," Adam said. "Have you talked to Ethan?"

"He sent a generic keep-up-the-good-work e-mail. Guess he's too busy buffing his political image to worry about you and me." Stan lowered his voice. "I've been doing some checking on him. The deeper I dig, the less I like the idea of him as VP."

"I'm afraid to ask what files you've been hacking."

"Enough to know lots of people share my opinion."

Adam grunted. Ethan Falco was the type of behind- the-scenes power most politicians feared. He had influence with the CIA, FBI, NSA, and most important, the White House. He'd been around too long—he knew everything on everybody. He was the enemy no one wanted, so while most politicians privately reviled him, publicly they lauded him.

"Look, I need you to arrange for Ethan's men to pick up Renata."

"Why involve me?"

"Because once she's tucked away, I want you to keep track of where she is and how she's doing." Until the job wrapped up, Renata would have to be hidden.

Stan was silent, then, "Has the dame gotten under your skin?"

"I don't have skin." Adam refused to examine his feelings. "She's been through a lot. I want to make sure Ethan doesn't push too hard with the debriefing."

Stan laughed. "Let me rephrase my original question: Does she mean something to you?"

With a growl, Adam switched off the phone and made his way back to the bedroom. He climbed into bed, beside Renata, and pulled her close.

The thought that she'd soon be safe made it easier to fall asleep.

Renata awoke from a nightmare. She'd been trapped in a tall building, running up flight after flight of stairs to escape Lyle. But when she
reached the top floor, he was there, a gun trained on her. She retreated, seeking the door and found herself trapped against a window. Lyle fired. She fell backwards, through the glass, screaming as she plummeted to the ground.

Then Adam caught her, breaking her fall before drawing her tightly to his chest. He soothed her fears and kissed her again. That had been the most shocking aspect of the dream. Adam's benevolence.

She closed her eyes, tried to calm her breathing as she threw off the murky remnants of the nightmare. Her pulse was elevated from fear. The sensation of falling had been so real, she'd felt her stomach roll. Being shot had been terrifying.

But worst was the act of kissing Adam. The thought that she enjoyed the kiss—even in a dream—disturbed her. So did the niggling suspicion that her still-racing pulse was an after effect of that kiss.

The man had an unsettling effect on her. She had a
physical... sexual...
awareness of him. A feeling of being drawn to him. Turned on by him. Seeing him naked hadn't helped. Bad guys shouldn't be so alluring. Not that she was falling for it.

Opening her eyes, she remained still. Adam was asleep behind her, his breathing deep and even. He was curled on his side, his arm still anchored around her waist. Under different circumstances his closeness would have been comforting. Personal. Sensual. Used thus, it was merely a means of bondage.

So why wasn't that upsetting to her right now? She'd been furious last night when he'd climbed in bed with her. What had changed while they slept?

Nothing. She was still a prisoner. She was still being held against her wishes.

But she didn't fear him as much this morning
because he'd passed an important test.
He hadn't taken advantage of
her
in
the shower. Nor had he tried to force himself on her during the night.

Which didn't make him a hero. Or even a decent person. She expected the worst of Lyle, and he fit the mold. Adam didn't.

Oh, she believed he was dangerous. If it came down to saving his own neck, she had no doubt he'd sacrifice her.
But...
What? Something didn't add up.

He hadn't physically harmed her. Even when she'd cut him. Likewise there had been no retaliation for her attempted escape.

It was a small comfort. The bottom line remained unchanged: two fugitives held her. One of those men was a murderer.
Lyle.
And while she could imagine Adam doing a lot of things, killing wasn't one of them. Which didn't absolve him of guilt.