Tempting the Fire (27 page)

Think, dammit. Right. He’d never been in the fucking cargo hold of a plane before, but there had to be an alarm here somewhere … or an intercom to the pilot.

As the plane gathered momentum, he felt around the walls, scanning the floor, the ceiling, everywhere he could think of, but there was nothing. What kind of damned planning was this? Whoever designed this death trap should be shot.

He pounded on the metal wall that separated the passenger compartment from the cargo hold, shouting for help. No response. Was the thing soundproof?

Or maybe the engines drowned the noises. Could be superthick metal too—the fact that it was metal at all meant he couldn’t dematerialize through it.

He scrubbed his face with both hands as he considered his pathetically few options.

Maybe a phone. But he didn’t have one—trainees weren’t allowed cell phones. That had been something Dev hadn’t budged on, no matter how often Gabe had bugged him. But surely Annika had one.

Carefully, because he didn’t want Annika waking while he was feeling her up or he was liable to be shocked into the next century, he searched her black BDUs, but he found only car keys. His throat grew tight as the reality of their situation began to sink in. Fuck, he was in so much trouble. He hadn’t been worried about Dev’s reaction to his little stowaway mission idea, because he’d planned to show his boss and lover that he could handle himself.

But because of Gabe, Annika was injured. And if she didn’t kill him when she came to, Creed would. Dev would make the funeral arrangements.

Hand shaking, he put pressure on her head wound, but the bleeding appeared to have already slowed. “Annika? Come on. I know you hate me, but I need you to wake up.”

She moaned, and he blew out a relieved breath, which cut off as the plane rose, knocking him off balance again. Annika rolled—he caught her, dragged her 154

against him and held her as the aircraft climbed skyward.

He was officially screwed. All he could do now was hope to hell Annika loved the Amazon. He looked down at her and also hoped that she was a cheerful morning person.

Somehow, he doubted it.

155

At some point in the evening, a couple of hours after Marlena and Sela had been put under house arrest, Dax brought them food. Marlena had begged for an update about Chance, but Dax wouldn’t say anything. He’d looked at Sela as though he expected her to ask about Logan, but she remained silent. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.

An hour later, he returned and allowed them to shower and change before shoving them back in the tent. Marlena instantly fell asleep on Logan’s cot. With darkness engulfing the camp and a rough day behind her, Sela rolled out the sleeping bag and collapsed into a deep sleep.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d slept when she woke to a hand shaking her shoulder. In the darkness, she could make out Dax’s form. For a second, she considered feigning a nightmare and punching him, but a glance told her Marlena was still sleeping, and she didn’t want to wake her.

So Sela hefted her backpack over her shoulder and groggily followed Dax across the camp, to a large tent adjoining the medical facility. Inside, Logan was prowling back and forth like a caged animal, his big body throwing shadows in the light from a single lantern. He’d showered, and his hair was still damp, wildly grooved as though he’d run his fingers through it repeatedly. He wore BDU pants, but his feet were bare, and so was his upper body, save for a bandage around his right biceps.

On the table at the back of the tent were papers, clipboards and folders, and every time Logan passed, he’d glance at them, curse and turn away.

She remained at the entrance, unsure what to do or say. And she had a rare, annoying attack of self-consciousness that made her hastily comb her fingers through her tangled mop of hair.

“Come in,” he said gruffly, without looking at her.

“With or without my guard?” The bitterness in her voice surprised her. She thought she had more control than that. Apparently, not when it came to him.

“What the hell, Logan? I thought we were in this together. Why did you have Marlena and me locked up?”

He rounded on her. “I thought you were a cryptozoologist.”

“I am.”

“Really?” He came at her, and she forced herself to stand her ground. He didn’t halt until they were practically nose to nose. “I didn’t know chupacabra experts need combat training.”

“What are you talking about?”

Darkness clouded his expression. “Come on, Sela. I saw how you handled 156

yourself in the jungle. I’m not a fucking idiot.”

Shit. Time to kick in her acting skills. “No, you aren’t a fucking idiot. But you are highly suspicious and you jump to conclusions.” Casting a glance at the papers on the table, she shoved him away. Bingo—GWC’s chupacabra research.

“Maybe you could have asked me about it instead of making wild assumptions?

What in the world do you think I am? An agent for one of your rival weapons development companies, sent to steal your super-secret designs?” She narrowed her eyes at him and wondered how she was going to get her micro-camera out of her pack. “Wait—is your company involved in something illegal? Dangerous? Do you think I’m a cop or something?”

“What I think is that you’ve been lying to me.”

“Why? Why would I possibly lie to you? Need I remind you that you found me, not the other way around? And why would you think that just because I can handle myself, I’m lying to you about something? Do you want my entire life story? The things I left out when I told you about my mom the stripper and my childhood spent mooching off strange men? Do you want me to tell you that my foster father was an Army Ranger, and after the shit I went through as a child, he taught me to fight? To hunt? To shoot?” Actually, that was true, but ACRO had taken her training to a whole new level. “Is any of that a crime?”

“No, but—”

“But what?” She was mad now, thoughts of getting pictures of the files forgotten. Her guilt about lying to Logan was mixing with residual anger from a childhood she’d left behind and rarely revisited. But Logan had stirred up that pot, bringing all her worst memories to the surface, and she was lashing out in the only way she knew how at the only person within striking distance. “You’re accusing me of being dishonest, but why haven’t you told me what’s going on in this camp?

What you’ve done to Chance?” She snorted. “You didn’t lock me up because you think I’m some sort of cop. You locked me up to keep me from learning your secret. So let’s cut the hypocritical bullshit, huh?”

He looked a little shell-shocked, opened his mouth to say something, but she jabbed her finger into his chest. “You want proof that I’m not here to spy on you … whatever it is you’re doing? Fine. I’m out of here. You can find the fucking chupacabra on your own, and I won’t be around to learn your precious secrets.” She spun away from him and stalked toward the exit, knowing he wouldn’t let her leave.

“Sela, wait.” Sure enough, Logan grabbed her arm and turned her around.

“Just hold on.”

“Oh, that’s right. I can’t leave. I’m your goddamned prisoner. Want to tell me why that is, exactly, if you’re so fucking innocent that you can be accusing me of shit?”

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, turning away from her. “You’re right. I jumped to conclusions.”

“Yeah, you did. You’d think you would have learned your lesson after 157

accusing your best friend of fucking your girlfriend.”

Logan whirled around. “What did you say?”

Oh, shit. He heard and there was no point in talking her way out of this.

Instead, she raised her chin. “I wouldn’t think that after losing them both, you’d be so casual with the accusations you throw around.”

“How do you know about that?” He’d gone pale, and his fists clenched.

“I just do.”

“How?” he bellowed, and she took a step back in the face of his rage.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is—”

She found herself pinned against the center support post, his forearm over her throat, his hard gaze keeping her there even without the restraint. “Answer me.

Because they’re both dead, and I’ve never told anyone that. Not a single soul.”

Dammit. “You were talking in your sleep—” Her breath cut off, only for a second, but long enough to shut her up and make her realize that lying wouldn’t get her anywhere.

“Not. A. Soul.”

Her mind worked furiously, searching every nook and cranny for a believable lie. Nothing. There was nothing. At this point, all she had left was the truth. The truth, twisted a little to hide her ACRO status. “You’re not going to believe me if I tell you.”

“I don’t believe you now,” he said through clenched teeth. “So you can only go up from here.”

“Really? You think?” She took a deep breath. Exhaled. “Fine. I’m psychic.”

“Bullshit.”

“You asked.”

He shoved away from her. “Okay, I’ll play. What am I thinking?”

She was pretty sure it wasn’t anything flattering about her. “It doesn’t work like that.”

He laughed. “Of course not.”

“I’m telling you the truth. It only works under certain circumstances.”

“Like what?”

No way was she going to tell him. “Periods of … high emotion. Now, if we can just—”

“High emotion? Like now? Because I’m pretty damned pissed. Is that coming over your psychic airwaves?”

Ass. “It hardly needs to.”

“So what are you talking about? Sex?”

She looked away, but too late. He’d seen something on her face, and he pounced. “Fuck me, it is. You get your readings during sex. No wonder you’ve been humping me like a cat in heat. You’ve been getting information.”

Anger flared like a flame in her chest, and she moved toward him.

“Information? I don’t think so. The hardware in your head seems to be blocking memories of everything that happened since it was installed.” She snorted. “But 158

wow, your childhood is really fascinating. A dog named Popeye? And could you have been any geekier as a teenager?”

“You do not want to push me right now.” He took a menacing step toward her. She held her ground. “Who do you work for?”

Again, she lifted her chin. “Listen to me—”

“Who?” he barked, and this time she took a step back. “Who have you been whoring yourself for?”

The words, and the venom in his voice, hurt more than they should have, sliced right into her, but she kept her expression neutral. “I’m here to learn about the chupacabra. Nothing more.”

“And you decided to do it by fucking me?” He backed her against the pole again. “Did you get everything you wanted? Or do you need something else?” He tore open the fly of his pants with one hand and palmed her breast with the other.

Even angry, she felt her body respond to him with a wet, honeyed rush between her thighs, and she didn’t push him away. “How about it? Want more information?”

“Logan,” she whispered. “I—”

He cut her off with a punishing kiss. It didn’t even occur to her to protest.

Instead, she closed her eyes, and opened her mouth for the thrust of his tongue.

Their teeth clashed, but he didn’t let up. His hands dropped to her waistband, and he roughly jerked open her pants. His fingers dove inside, slipped between her swollen folds and into the silky evidence of her arousal. The brush of his touch over her clit made her groan, and against her will, her hips rolled toward him, and he smiled against her lips.

He had her exactly where he wanted, and he knew it.

Humiliation and anger swirled together, because she’d never been this weak. She couldn’t do this. Wouldn’t. Wrenching her head back, she tried to squirm away, but Logan fisted her hair and held her for his kiss.

She bit him. The tang of blood hit her tongue at the same time his snarled curse hit her ears. “Really, Sela?” he growled. “You really want to play it that way? Because I can do rough.”

His words shouldn’t have turned her on, but they did, in a wild, primal way she couldn’t understand. She got all hot and achy and she didn’t want to talk anymore. She wanted to fuck.

Smiling coldly, she fisted his cock—and her knees nearly buckled.

Apparently, their sparring had worked him up as much as it had her, because he was huge, hot, throbbing in her palm. “Rough gives me more information,” she said snottily, though she was lying.

“Then let’s not waste any time.” His tone was as nasty as hers, but there was an underlying lust that licked her right between the legs as he bent to yank off her pants. And then, as he stood up, he licked her between the legs. One hot, long stroke up her slit that nearly had her coming.

And then he was in her face again, his tongue in her mouth, his body 159

crushing hers against the pole and his cock poised at her entrance. He didn’t wait

—there was no room for finesse and teasing in this tent. Roughly, he lifted one of her thighs and hooked it over his hip as he impaled her.

They both grunted at the to-the-hilt joining. He filled her so completely, so deeply she felt him all the way to her heart, which had no business feeling him at all. God, she’d turned into Marlena, falling in love with the man she’d slept with.

No. She wasn’t in love with Logan. Lust, yes. Even as pissed as she was, she wanted him. Wanted his body. That hard tool he used with brutal skill.

“More, Sela?” he rasped, as he ground against her. “Do you want more?”

“Yes. God, yes.” But even as she said that, she wasn’t sure what she meant by more. More sex? More roughness? More of him? She lifted her other leg so they were both wrapped around him, holding him tight, bringing her as close as she could get.

“You feel something for me, don’t you?” He dragged his mouth away from hers and kissed a trail along her cheek. “You didn’t want to, but you do.”

“Stop it.” This was supposed to be a hard fuck. Not some sappy session where she admitted she was softening up. But that’s what was happening. He was still angry, but she’d lost her edge and was melting into him, wishing he’d hold her like a lover instead of screwing her like the whore he’d accused her of being.