Sexy/Dangerous (19 page)

Casting his mind back on the chaotic last twenty-four hours, all he could see was Max and that big gun. He had to admit that when she walked into the room, the gun still smoking and her eyes full of death, she’d scared the hell out of him, too. He’d never seen anyone,
much less a woman, handle a weapon with such ferocity and confidence. If the men with Pearl or Kruger or whatever his damn name had been had any sense, they’d be at the airport right now trying to fly home, because if they ran into Max again, injured or not, he knew they would see hell. She had not been playing.

That same ferocious confidence had gotten answers, too. Portia had already wired her contacts about Pearl and the renegade generals. The South African ambassador had also been alerted and vowed to start an investigation into the people wanting to replunge her country into death and anarchy. Adam hoped everyone involved would be caught, tried, and jailed for a long time. As far as Adam knew, Sly Kent’s murder was still unsolved, but he was sure that would be figured out eventually, too. He made a mental note to call Kaitlin, then remembered he no longer had a phone. He’d deal with that later.

For now, though, thoughts of Max filled his mind. Truthfully, he couldn’t imagine a day that didn’t include her swaggering bossiness. He knew that they lived totally opposite lives and that when this adventure ended he’d go back to his life and she to hers, but he wanted to put that off until he learned everything there was to know about her remarkable self. What was her favorite color? Who were her sheroes? Did she like spinach? Adam didn’t know the answers to any of those inconsequential questions, but relationships were built on the inconsequential, too, and a relationship is what he wanted to have with her. It was the first time he’d allowed himself to admit that fact. There was more to her than mayhem and guns, and it was those parts buried beneath the Iron Maiden exterior that he
wanted to explore, connect with, play with and make smile.

Would she have him, and could she be convinced to give up her dangerous lifestyle? Those were two more questions he didn’t have the answers to, so for now he chose to be content and glad that she was alive and well.

Adam sat outside awhile longer. He thought about his mother and how she was doing, and that he should go and see her as soon as he could. He wondered if he was still going to get to meet the President, and how cool that would be if he did. He thought about the prototype and how he owed Myk Chandler the most expensive bottle of aged cognac he could find for all of his help. And again, Adam thought of Max. Beautiful, sexy, dangerous Max.
Lord have mercy!
As she’d said, no other woman like her in the world.

The next morning he awoke at six to the sound of the alarm on his watch. He’d set it so he could get up and take his morning run, but he was so whipped, he’d already decided to skip it and go back to sleep when he saw the dogs. Ruby and Ossie were standing by the bed looking at him. They’d become accustomed to going with him, and he supposed to them every day meant
every
day. “Okay, okay,” he grumbled, throwing back the sheet. “Let me hit the bathroom first, then we’ll go.”

Ten minutes later, after leaving a note for Portia on the kitchen table, he and the dogs were outside. Because Adam had no idea where to go, he said to the dogs, “Lead the way.”

They took off across an open field and Adam set himself a steady pace and tried to keep them in sight. When they got back to the house, Portia was seated at
the table enjoying a cup of coffee. “Morning,” she said. “Coffee.”

“Let me shower first.”

“The President called just a while ago wanting to speak to you.”

Adam went still.

“He’s going to give you and Storm a medal at a state dinner in the fall.”

“Who’s Storm?”

“Max. He calls her Storm after the X-Man super heroine. You know. Halle Berry played her in the movie.”

Adam was amazed. “That woman has more names than the Book of Genesis.”

Portia smiled around her raised cup. “That she does.”

“Why’s he want to give me a medal? Max, I can understand, but I didn’t do anything.”

“Your lie helped keep the prototype out of enemy hands. No telling what we’d be facing if they’d gotten hold of it, and you brought Max home safe. She’s one of Hannibal’s favorite people, you know. He just wants to say thanks.”

“But—”

“Go get your shower. I’ll feed the dogs.”

She stood, called to Ruby and Ossie, and they left the amazed Adam standing alone in the kitchen.

Max was dreaming, or at least she hoped so because she and Adam were getting married. They were standing at an altar. She had on a hot red dress, Adam had on a tux and the preacher in the robe was Myk Chandler. Ruby was walking on her hind legs. She was six feet tall, had
a bouquet of flowers in her front paws, and was wearing a dress that matched hers. Chandler told Adam to kiss the bride, but she was looking at the choir. Pearl was there with a gun. He began shooting. Her bouquet morphed into a gun and she fired back. People starting running and then she and Adam were in a red canoe out on the lake drifting in the sunshine. The water was calm and shining. She felt at peace.

After finishing his breakfast, Adam was allowed in to see Max. She was asleep, so, with Dr. Lorenz’s permission, he pulled up a chair and sat. A few moments later, as if Max sensed his presence, her eyes opened.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” he responded softly. “How you doing?”

“I dreamed about you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” She paused for a moment as if trying to remember. “We were in a canoe. Ruby was at some kind of wedding. She had on a red dress and was walking on her hind legs. She was as tall as you.”

Adam laughed quietly. “Maybe Dr. Lorenz needs to cut back on your drugs.”

“Maybe. Myk was in the dream, too. I don’t remember the rest.”

“Sounds like that might be a good thing.”

Her eyes drifted closed for a few moments, then opened again. “How are the dogs?”

“Fine. Having a good time playing outside.”

She smiled. “Good. They like you.”

“I’m liking them better, too.”

“Knew you would. Once you got to know them.”

He nodded.

“I think I’m going back to sleep. Will you stay a little while?”

“Rottweilers couldn’t tear me away.”

She chuckled faintly. “He’s got dog jokes now, folks.” She reached for his hand and he gently closed his around hers. “See you in a bit,” she whispered, and she slept.

That evening, a light-skinned brother wearing sunglasses and a long army-looking trench coat sailed into Portia’s kitchen while she and Adam were going over the schematics of some of Portia’s electronic prototypes.

“Saint!” Portia exclaimed in a happy and surprised voice.

“Evening.”

Portia made the introductions. “Saint, this is Dr. Adam Gary.”

“Hello,” Saint said.

Adam nodded a greeting.

Saint asked, “How’s our girl?”

“Okay considering she got back-shot.”

“Damn. Can I see her?”

Portia tossed back, “Probably not in that coat.”

“What is it with everybody and my coat?”

“If you washed it even occasionally maybe it wouldn’t need a toxic warning sticker on it.”

Saint looked to Adam and said, “Women.”

Adam grinned.

Portia said, “Go on back, but I’m telling you now, Dr. Lorenz isn’t going to let you in wearing that thing.”

Sighing, Saint shook off the coat and tossed it over one of the empty kitchen chairs. “Better?”

Portia grinned and waved him on.

Saint said to Adam, “Don’t let her touch my coat while I’m gone.”

Adam said, “I got your back.”

“Thanks, man.” Then he walked off in the direction of the sickroom.

Saint returned a few minutes later. “I need to get going.” He put his coat back on.

Adam had to admit the coat was not the cleanest article of clothing he’d seen lately.

Saint said, “Doc, I’m here for the prototype.”

“Sure, let me get it.”

Once the shades-wearing Saint had the device in his hand, he studied the swirling black liquid encased inside. “Looks like a liquid black mood ring.”

Adam nodded. He’d never thought about it that way, but the man was right.

“It’s not going to blow up on me or anything?”

“Nope,” Adam assured him. “Even if you hit with a hammer it won’t break.”

“Cool.” And he dropped the cylinder into one of the inside pockets of his coat. “Doc. Nice meeting. Portia, see you later.”

“’Bye, Saint.”

He strode out, the hem of his coat moving with his steps.

Adam looked at Portia, and she, smiling, shook her head. “He’s one of a kind.”

And Adam thought,
Just like Max.

By the fourth day of her confinement Max had
recovered enough for the doctor’s restrictions to start giving her the blues. She knew she wasn’t able to leap tall buildings with a single bound yet, but she could at least sit in a chair outside in the sunshine. When she asked Dr. Lorenz, the doctor said, “No, Max. Maybe in a couple days.”

So later that day, when Adam walked into the room with her lunch on a tray, she was sulking even though she was thrilled to see him. “Is there a file hidden in that soup somewhere so I can break out of here?” she asked.

He laughed. “Sorry. Just noodles and chicken.”

She sighed. “If I have to stay in this bed much longer I’m going to go insane.”

“Lighten up. The bed rest is for your own good.”

“So you say.”

He placed the tray on the small bed table she used when eating. After positioning it over her sheet-covered middle, he took a seat in the chair beside the bed. “Eat and stop bitching,” he said affectionately.

“Only for you.”

His amusement was plain. “What’s Dr. Lorenz say about commuting your sentence?”

“A couple more days.”

“That’s because everybody knows you aren’t going to take it easy if she lets you out, so she’s going to sit on you for as long as she can.”

“I suppose,” Max said, trying to spoon out soup with her left hand. She was normally right-handed but her wounds were on that side so she was forced to be left-handed until times got better. The liquid sloshed down the front of her T-shirt.

“You want some help?”

“No.”

He watched the next spoonful of soup miss the mark, then he sat back and shook his head. “Nothing wrong with needing a little assistance, Miss You.”

“I’m fine.”

Her shirt continued to be the main beneficiary of Portia’s homemade chicken soup, but Adam knew the more he hassled her, the more hard-headed she’d act, so he didn’t say anything else. “Have Ruby and Ossie been in to see you today?” More soup dribbled down her shirt, and an amused Adam stayed silent.

“They dropped by earlier.” Then her green eyes lifted to his. “You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?”

“Who me? Nope.”

She grinned. “Liar.” Then she said, “That’s one of the things I like about you, though.”

“What?”

“That you let me be me, even when I’m being stubborn.”

“No sense in arguing with a woman who knows her own mind.”

“And you have never tried to compete with me. That’s usually the first thing most men I’m around want to do—show me how manly they are.”

“Nothing to compete with you about. I’m bigger, stronger, faster.”

“Hey, wait a minute.”

“I am. You’re badder, of course—without a doubt—but in my world, being a badass won’t get you a Nobel, so I’ve no interest in outtoughing you.”

Max asked, “You really think you’re faster than me?”

He nodded. “And stronger. I’m a man, Max. It’s in the physiology.”

“When I get well, we’ll see.”

He chuckled, “Okay. Now, when I beat you, what do I get?”

“When I beat you, what do I get?”

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?”

She nodded. “Yeah, Mr. Jesse Owens Gary.”

“I ran track in college. My time for the 220 is third best in school history.”

Max tossed back, “That was what, fifty years ago?”

“You’re wrong girl. Wrong.”

They were both laughing and enjoying each other’s company, then Max said seriously, “I miss hanging out with you.”

“Miss you, too. Thanks for not dying on me.”

“You’re welcome. Would you do me a favor?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Would you feed me this damn soup. I’m so hungry I could eat the bowl.”

He threw back his head and his laughter filled the room. He then picked up the spoon and helped her out.

By day six Max was allowed to leave the room, but only in a wheelchair and only for twenty minutes at a time. The doctor was pleased with the healing. She worried about a setback if Max tried to do too much, though, so Adam became the designated keeper.

The first time he wheeled her out into the hallway she was immediately mobbed by the dogs. They were jumping and barking and prancing around as if it was the happiest day of their canine lives. Max’s returning kisses, scratches, and hugs added to the chaos. Her jubilance equaled theirs.

Adam said, “We only have twenty minutes, you all. How about we take this celebration outside.”

Ruby, who’d managed to work herself onto Max’s lap, barked happily. The tickled Adam pushed the now heavier chair forward.

Max couldn’t believe how wonderful it felt to be outside with the sun and the breeze on her face. Because of the uneven ground, the wheelchair couldn’t go any farther than the edge of the patio, but she didn’t care. She could hear the birds, see the clouds, and smell the nose-twitching scent of the fresh manure Portia used as fertilizer on the hundreds of acres of farmland. Being out of the sickroom easily outweighed the stink, so Max didn’t let that spoil her mood either. “Thank you,” she said, looking up at the handsome Dr. Gary. To her, he was just as gorgeous as the June day.

“You’re welcome.”

Ruby and Ossie were chasing each other around the trees. The squirrels and birds, apparently accustomed to the presence and antics of their canine siblings, Jesse and James, didn’t pay them any attention. Max, however, enjoyed watching them acting like the dogs they
were. Sometimes the job didn’t allow them much freedom or fun, but being here and at home in Texas always seemed to reenergize them.

Adam could see the happiness in her face and it made him happy as well. “So, how’s this?” In his mind the fates had provided the perfect day for her breakout from the Big House.

“You’re going to need a whip and a chair to get me back inside.” Her eyes were bright with humor as they met his.

“I was afraid of that.”

The look they shared became so prolonged, the humor faded and neither seemed able to break the contact. They fed themselves on the sight of each other. It had been a while since they’d been intimate, but what they were feeling at that moment wasn’t lust. As Adam noted, the connection pulling at them was different, stronger, wondrous.

He had to lean low to touch his lips to hers, but he didn’t complain; neither did she. The sweet richness of the kiss obliterated all.

Max cupped his cheek with her left hand. Caressing the soft hair there, she leaned up so they could better enjoy the coaxing, teasing, and nibbling. She felt as if an eternity had passed since they’d been alone and could be with each other this way. Her breathing increased and so did his. The embers of their previous encounter had never been fully extinguished, and as passion began to warm their blood, the sparks glowed, then caught, making the lovers deepen the kiss.

Adam squatted to decrease the distance between them and bring their bodies closer. Moving his kisses to the hollow of her throat, he ran his hand over her
mouth, her jaw, and the trembling skin above the lacy border of the thin green nightgown she had on beneath the matching terry robe. He knew she was in no condition to be loved the way he wanted to make love to her; fully, totally, and scandalously, but it didn’t stop him from enjoying the scents of her skin or the soft moan she let out when he cupped her breast.

“Ahem!”

They both jumped.

Dr. Lorenz walked into view. “Your twenty minutes are up, madam.”

Max stuck out her lip like a sulking child and Adam did the same.

Laughing, the doctor said, “You two are too much. Take her back inside, Dr. Gary.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

So Adam pushed Max back to her room, then helped her into the bed, all under the watchful eye of Dr. Lorenz.

In bed now, Max said to her, “You ruined a perfectly good kiss.”

She chuckled. “For now, that is my job.”

“Well, you’re too good at it,” Max mockingly groused.

She exited the room but not before calling out, “Five minutes, Dr. Gary.”

All he could do was shake his head.

When they were alone again, he said, “She’s tough.”

“As a Marine drill sergeant.”

Adam sat down on the edge of the bed. He leaned over and kissed her gently. “I owe you for that kisses interruptus,” he whispered.

She said sassily, “I love it when you talk dirty.”

Adam had never met a woman like her before in his life. “You are so outrageous.”

“But you enjoy it.”

His voice softened. “Yes. Yes, I do.” He stroked a lingering finger down her cheek. “Rest up. I’ll come back and break you out again later.”

In the bed and supported by the pillows, Max could feel herself drifting away and thought maybe she wasn’t as ready to rock and roll as she’d led herself to believe. “Promise?”

He slowly crossed his heart. “Cross my heart.”

“Good,” she whispered, pleased. “I’m going to sleep now.”

He kissed her forehead. “Sweet dreams.”

And they were sweet because she dreamed of a tender caring man named Adam.

That evening, Portia told Adam that the Bureau had captured Pearl’s rumpled companion Vlad Oskar at a small airport near Miami. He’d been busted trying to jack a private plane and was held by the local police until the agents arrived. At the preliminary court hearing, the federal prosecutor had little trouble convincing the presiding judge that the man was a flight risk, so his passport was confiscated and he was remanded without bond to the Dade County jail.

“Good,” Max said when Adam relayed the news to her later on. They were outside enjoying the peacefulness of the night. Max was in her wheelchair and he was seated in a lawn chair beside her.

“Now that you’re technically done guarding me, what’s next?”

Her shrug made the stitches in her shoulder pull and she winced silently. “Don’t know. Home to Texas for sure, but afterward? Probably sniff out another job.”

He went quiet.

Max asked him, “That bothers you, doesn’t it?”

He looked her way. “I can’t lie.”

“This is what I do.”

“And it almost got you killed. What if there’s nobody around next time to drive you? What if you get shot in the gut? Suppose it’s your heart?”

Max reached over and placed her hand on top of his. They were destined to have this conversation, she supposed, but at what cost? When he linked his fingers with hers, the emotions that flooded her were so strong they tightened her throat.

He said to her, “Max, I’m not a super hero or an international spy—none of that. I’m just a regular everyday brother who has a thing for a remarkable woman he’d like to see grow. Watching you get shot almost killed me. Then, because you have this secret life, I couldn’t even take you to the E.R.”

Max closed her eyes and tried to delude herself into believing that the pain emanated from her shoulder wound and not her heart.

He told her, “If you and I aren’t on the same page, fine. I’ll slink off into the sunset and we can stop this conversation right here, but I have to tell you how I feel.”

“And I appreciate it,” she said. “And just so you know, I do care for you, Adam. A lot. I’d like this thing between us to grow, too. But.”

“You’re not going to change what you do.”

She shook her head in the dark. “No.”

He shrugged. “Then I’ll have to respect that, even if I don’t like it.”

When he gently withdrew his fingers from hers, she knew their time together was coming to an end, and all the tender brightness he’d brought into her life began withering inside her like a dying rose.

Over the next few days, Dr. Lorenz gave Max five-pound hand weights to lift so that the muscles in her shoulder and upper back would regain their strength, flexibility, and tone. Adam was no less caring or concerned, and he and Max were able to enjoy each other’s company, but things had changed between them and they both knew it.

One evening at dinner, Adam announced that he was going back to Michigan and his work. Now that the prototype was safe, he had no reason to hang around. “I talked to the NASA people this afternoon and they want me to come down and supervise some tests on the prototype. They’re thinking it might help power some of their interplanetary probes.”

Portia said, “Sounds promising. I can take care of your flight arrangements home if you’d like.”

“That’d be great.” Adam planned to attend the President’s dinner in the fall, but frankly, all he wanted to do now was go home and lick his wounds.

Portia said, “I’ve enjoyed your company, Adam.”

“And I’ve had a good time. Thanks for the hospitality.”

He looked over at Max, who met his eyes and said, “Have a safe trip home.”

“I will.”

Max was able to walk under her own power now, and she stood and left Portia and Adam at the table.

Portia didn’t say anything for a moment, but seeing Adam’s tight jaw and the distance in his eyes, she finally offered, “You can’t turn a lioness into a house cat.”

“I know. That’s why I need to go back to my life.”

“I’m sorry, Adam,” Portia replied, her voice sad.

“So am I.”

Then he left the table to gather up his meager belongings in preparation for the morning flight back to Michigan.

Max looked up at the moon and wondered what was wrong with her. After her second divorce, she’d never allowed a man to give her the blues. Over the years, she’d had trysts with matadors, race car drivers, and even a few European captains of industry, and once the flames burned out with each of them, they’d said
Ciao
and parted with no regrets. All were men of action drawn to her strength and drive the same way she’d been drawn to theirs. But what she felt in response to Adam’s leaving was new, and scary as hell.
Why him
? she asked herself for what seemed like the umpteenth time. What was it about Adam that was tearing her up this way? Why did the prospect of maybe never seeing him again leave her so depressed? She ran her hands through her short hair, confused, frustrated, and angry that a mild-mannered but very sexy
lab scientist,
of all people, would have the audacity to ask that she take a look at changing her life.