Viper's Kiss (10 page)

She heard Luke’s exhalation, as though he, too, had been holding his breath. She knew, logically, that she had nothing to be ashamed of, but she’d always felt that somehow it was her fault, that she must bear some of the blame. She’d never told anyone what had happened to her. Not until Luke. She finally lifted her eyes to his. His concerned eyes held a touch of relief. As though this strong man cared for that young, vulnerable sixteen-year-old girl. Well, she wasn’t sixteen anymore, and she’d made sure she’d never again be defenseless against a man.

“Andy had Mom’s bank details and the key to our front door. He wiped us out financially, then snuck back in and stole everything of value.” Her jaw clenched. The raw anger roiling in her gut had not extinguished with time. That man had robbed them of much, much more than household effects and money. He’d stolen their opportunity and their security, among other things. And like a house of cards, her mother’s health slowly collapsed along with their downfall.

“He even stole Dad’s comics. My father loved comics. He would sit and read them to me for hours. He had one, it was a rare one he’d pull out on special occasions.” Her voice cracked, as though she’d eaten sand. She swallowed. “He always said comics were meant to be read, even the special ones that people liked to keep wrapped in plastic.”

“What happened to him?”

She smiled at the memory of her father. “He was a big man. Strong.” Much like the man sitting next to her, she realized. “He worked in construction. He died in a fall when I was seven. But while he was with us…” She recalled the laughter of the man she’d so loved as a girl, yet could barely remember as a woman. She remembered the warm, safe, feeling of his arms cuddling her as he read to her. “He loved those comics.”

Her hand trembled as she swiped at her cheek. “The comic Andy stole dated back to nineteen forty-one, and introduced Wonder Woman, before her first comic.” She arched an eyebrow. “Did you know that the creator of Wonder Woman also invented the lie-detector?” She smiled at Luke’s surprised look.

“She was magnificent. She was strong, gutsy, brave. My dad used to let me read that comic whenever I liked, and we’d go out and buy the latest release together.” She sighed. “That first one, though, the
All Stars
, that was a beauty.” She cleared her throat. “Andy stole that too. He knew it was worth a little bit of money.”

“How much?” Luke asked, his expression curious.

Maggie blew out her cheeks. “Oh, well, last time I looked it was worth about forty thousand.”

Luke made a choking sound. “Forty thousand dollars? For a comic?”

Maggie nodded. “Yep. And that rat fink bastard stole it.” Her lips tightened. “When he wiped us out, we had to cancel our health insurance. Mom had to work two jobs. I got a job in a local bookstore after school, as well as tutoring. We used to move around the area a lot, looking for cheaper apartments. When we couldn’t pay the rent, we’d have to move again.” She traced a muddy swirl of color on the bedspread.

Luke grimaced. “I know how that feels. I’m an army brat. My father was in the Special Forces.” He smiled at Maggie’s surprised look. “I know what it’s like moving from place to place, having to memorize new faces, new names, then do it all over again.”

Maggie shared an understanding smile. “I guess that’s why I gravitated toward books so much. At least I could take those friends with me.” She sighed. “Mom wasn’t feeling well, but she always waved it off. Her symptoms could always be explained away. Bloating, cramps, nausea. It was years before she went to see a doctor. That’s when they found the cancer, the first time. It was already advanced. That’s when the medical bills started coming in.”

She rose from the bed. Up until then their worries had been about paying the electricity bill, or putting food on the table. After that first diagnosis, the real stress began. Her mother had tried hard to stretch the money, but when you ate rice and ketchup for dinner, you knew it was a lean week.

Maggie toyed with the antennae on the television. “It’s amazing how trivial life can seem,” she said, keeping her voice low. “I remember begging Mom for a puppy, but we couldn’t get one because of the cost of looking after it, and because most of the places we lived in wouldn’t allow pets. I was so upset. When you hear the C-word at the doctor’s office, though, all that seems to pale in significance.”

Maggie frowned. She was rambling. Why was she telling Luke any of this? She’d always kept her own counsel before, had never relied on anyone for help or just plain companionship, and here she was, verbally dry-retching all over Luke. He was easy to talk to though, when he wasn’t treating her like a murderous spy.

She straightened her shoulders. “I’m not telling you this in a bid for sympathy.” God, no, she didn’t want that. She wouldn’t know what to do with it. “I’m trying to explain why this whole mess is so preposterous. When I was sixteen, my life was changed by the theft from my family. My mother always carried the guilt of bringing that man into our home and exposing us to him. I carry the guilt of breaking up the one relationship with a man my mother had after my father died, even though he was a jerk, and we both worked our butts off to try and keep off the streets.”

She turned and met his gaze, grim determination straightening her shoulders. “I would never, ever steal a damn thing, from anybody, because of what that bastard did to us. I didn’t steal the TI research.” She shrugged. “But it doesn’t really matter anymore.” She laughed bitterly. What was there left for her now? Her mother was gone, she’d lost her job, and it was just a matter of hours before Luke and his men handed her over to the cops and she lost her liberty.

Luke stood and approached, staring down at her for a long moment. She could see his confusion, his doubt. His worry. His hand rose and touched her cheek, and she gave in to the temptation to close her eyes and lean into his touch, to feel the warmth of his fingers against her skin.

“I need it to matter to you.”

Her eyes fluttered open. His blue eyes were close, boring into hers, as though willing her to do something, say something.
Feel something
. She just wasn’t sure what that something was.

“I don’t know if I care anymore,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. She was tired of caring. Tired of looking after people, tired of taking charge, of giving. She didn’t know if she had anything left to give.

“I was a Green Beret, Maggie. I fought on the frontline. I remember patrolling in the desert, knowing that one wrong step could mean my death, and the death of others, but it was a risk I was willing to take because I was fighting for something I believed in. I remember wanting to come home, settle down and start a family, lead a normal, peaceful life.” He paused, as though choosing his words carefully. “I need you to care about those soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan,” Luke said, his tone low, fervent. “I need you to think of those men and women fighting for our freedom, and the danger they’re in from this suit. I need you to think of all those men, women and children going about their everyday lives, who are in danger because of an invisible fanatic. I need you to care about me,” he finished, his voice hoarse.

She covered his hand with hers, holding it to her face as she tried to read his expression, tried to fathom what was going on inside his head. He cared. He cared deeply, and believed in what he was doing. In recovering that prototype he was trying to protect the people he loved. She’d spent most of her life protecting her mother. What would it feel like to allow someone to protect her instead? Someone like Luke?

“How do you do it?” she wondered. “Your job, putting your life on the line? So far you’ve dodged bullets and escaped exploding houses. Why?” She needed to know, needed to understand. She’d just shared more with this man than any other in her life, told him things she hadn’t even dared whisper in the darkness of night. She’d let him into her little sanctum, and she wanted entry into his. What drove this man to do the things he did?

“Because I give a damn,” he whispered. He lowered his head and kissed her.

This time the kiss was different. It was gentle, tender. Her mouth opened under his. His kiss was something she wanted, and everything she needed. It was warmth, it was solace, and it was oh, so
good
. He seemed to know exactly what she wanted, needed, without her telling him, as though he knew her better than she did.

His arm slid around her waist and he tugged her to him. The manner of the kiss changed, and tension coiled in her belly. She’d been kissed a few times, but never so thoroughly, so intently. He pulled her hips to his, and she felt his desire through his jeans.

Maggie touched his chest. She could feel the muscles through his shirt. He felt strong, solid. He was different to any man she’d met before, and he was exactly what she craved. She slid her arms around his waist, bringing her breasts into contact with his strength. As her body met his, she moaned and traced the muscles on his back through the soft fabric of his shirt. She encountered something cold, hard and metallic at the base of his back.

Without lifting his lips from hers, he pulled the gun out of his jeans and placed it on top of the television. He lifted his hands to her face and cupped her jaw as he drank from her lips. Maggie felt like she was drowning in heat, in desire, in emotion she hadn’t felt for so long, if ever. She slid her fingers around to his chest again. She couldn’t get enough of him, she wanted more. She wanted to see, touch, taste.
More
.

She slipped the dark jacket off his shoulders, and he mimicked her movements, removing her own jacket, their lips connected, tongues entwined. Their motions were in tandem, as though their bodies and minds were in perfect sync.

His jacket fell to the floor with a clatter, and she remembered the weapons he’d placed in the pockets. Then thought turned to mush as he trailed his hands up her arms, across her collarbone to her breasts.

Oh, jeepers
. Her head rolled back as his lips scorched a trail down her neck and his tongue played with the indent of her collarbone. How did he know that particular spot drove her crazy? She hadn’t even known it.

She slid her hands down his arms, and something long and hard in his sleeve distracted her. He slid the knife from under the material and placed it next to the gun on the television before pulling her to him again.

Maggie pulled his shirt from his jeans. She was on fire, and she wanted more. Her breath was coming in pants as he pulled back long enough to draw the shirt over his head. She gaped at the smooth torso revealed. He was definitely fit. Strong. Muscular. And so, so sexy. Her fingers touched a pebbled nipple with wonder, and he groaned. He whisked her top up and over her head, and a white blur sailed across the room.

His lips took hers, and it was as though a match ignited. His hands roamed all over, as hers did to him. He guided her back toward the bed, following her down when she fell upon it. He kicked his boots off as he kissed her throat, her chest, her breasts. She heard more clatter, more thumps as she kissed his shoulder, his chest and pulled him closer.

He made short work of her jeans and panties, and he quickly rolled to undo his fly and kick his jeans and briefs off.

Maggie tried to get a good look at him. He was beautiful, sculpted and taut, his ridged muscles beckoning for her touch. He pulled her to him, his arms going about her to undo the clasp of her bra. Maggie wrapped her arms around him, drawing him in tight. He stroked her back, her buttocks, urging her closer to his heat, his sex.

He rolled them onto her back and rose over her, his blue irises almost glowing in the muted light of the room.

His eyes met hers, and she felt scalded by the heat she saw in them. His gaze trailed down her body. She felt no shame, no shyness. She’d told this man things she hadn’t told anyone. He now knew her better than anyone, knew her naked and vulnerable thoughts, and saw her naked and vulnerable now. She felt safe. And hot.

“You’re so sexy, so beautiful,” he told her, and she didn’t doubt his sincerity. She smiled up at him. He paused. “Are you sure about this?”

Was she sure? Luke was a good man, honorable to the core, noble, and so attractive. She’d never felt such longing for a man before. She’d come close to death several times today. Her mother had just died. She was almost certainly going to jail, and she knew that not making love with this man would be a regret she’d live with for the rest of her life. For the short time she had, she was determined to live each moment to the fullest. Starting now.

“I’m sure,” she whispered, her eyes following the contours of his body, the thin line of body hair that seemed to draw an arrow down to his sex, like a helpful map.

He leaned down and kissed her. It was hot, it was wet, and it was loving. His hand trailed down her body, and he groaned when he felt her readiness.

He nestled himself between her legs and entered her. She jerked. There was a brief pressure, a moment of exquisite pain, and as he entered her, his head reared back with a shock that mirrored hers.

“You’re a virgin?” he breathed, holding himself tight.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Nobody made it past ninety days.” She tried to inhale.

Luke he held himself still. “They’re idiots,” he whispered as he kissed her again. Maggie felt herself gradually relax. Slowly, he began to rock, and her hips began to move to his rhythm. She moaned. It didn’t hurt anymore. In fact, he felt so good, so hot, so strong. Her heart welled with emotion, and she knew she’d lost more to him than her virginity. She drew him closer, and they made love into the night.

Maggie whimpered. Rupert was trying to grab her, the knitting needle still in his neck, blood staining his shirt. Tiny loomed behind him, a gun in his hand. He turned and raised his arm, and Maggie watched as he shot the two police detectives, their bodies jerking at each impact. Tiny then turned, and Maggie cried when she saw her mother cowering behind with a fry pan. Tiny aimed the gun at her mother. Pulled the trigger.

Maggie screamed, fighting off knitting-needled Rupert, but he was trying to speak to her, soothe her.

“Maggie, wake up, it’s okay.”

Maggie’s eyes fluttered open. Luke held her wrists in both hands, concern etched into the lines on his face.

“Oh, God, Luke!”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he said again, pulling her into his arms and rocking her.

They both jumped when the door to the room was kicked in. Luke turned, putting his body between Maggie and the threat.

She saw the muscles in his back relax. She peered over his shoulder and realized Drew and Noah held them at gunpoint.

Luke put his hands up. “Everything’s fine,” he said calmly.

Drew and Noah lowered their weapons, looking about the room to confirm there was no threat.

“Sorry, we heard a scream,” Drew said.

Noah cocked an eyebrow as he took in the tangled sheets, a naked Luke and Maggie peering at him over Luke’s bare shoulder. She tugged the sheet up higher to conceal her nakedness, but knew that both men understood what had happened in the room.

“Maggie just had a nightmare. Everything’s fine,” Luke repeated.

Drew tucked the gun into the back of his pants. “Not quite, but we’ll talk later,” he snapped, and left the room.

“Uh, sorry.” Noah gestured to the door as he left. Maggie wasn’t sure, but she thought his cheeks wore a red tinge as he tried to close the broken door. Once he ensured their privacy, he went back to the room next door.

Her forehead dropped to Luke’s shoulder, her own face flushed with heat. “Now, that was awkward,” she mumbled into his arm.

Luke twisted to face her. She was beautiful. Her cheeks were rosy, her gray eyes twinkled and her hair tangled down her back in a sexy, tumbled mess. He’d slept with her. No, that was too tame a description for what they’d done. He remembered the feel of her body nestled beneath his, her silky hair against his chest, her passionate cries into the night…

He’d felt her pain, her loss. He’d wanted to comfort her, to try and get her to reconnect with life, but she’d ended up reconnecting him instead. He’d always managed to keep himself apart from the activity. He did surveillance and programming, that was what he was good at. He’d grown accustomed to just watching, never really interacting. Maggie had pulled him into the event, forced him to feel, to act, instead of just monitor. He’d crossed the line, though. He believed her when she’d told him her story. He believed her when she denied being Viper. It was probably the biggest mistake he’d ever made. He was sure Drew would think so, and tell him so at the first opportunity. For once, though, what his friends and colleagues thought of him was of no consequence. Maggie was more important.

“What were you dreaming about?” He couldn’t miss the dark circles under her eyes, the bruise on her cheek that was turning from blue to purple. She was damaged, and he wanted to help heal her.

She hugged the sheet to her chest, and his gaze dropped to her hands. He wanted to hold her close, to tug that sheet down and reveal her body in all its naked glory, and make love to her. Again and again.

He fought the impulse and listened as she described her dream. He frowned.

“You stabbed a guy with a knitting needle?”

Tears formed in Maggie’s gray eyes, making them appear bigger, more luminous as she nodded. “Yes. I killed a man. Probably two. I thought they were going to kill me. One of them kept going on about some meeting with two men I’ve never heard of, and he wanted the suit, and I didn’t have the suit…” Her voice trailed off.

“What happened to the other man?”

“I hit him with a forklift.”

Luke’s eyebrow rose. “That would do it.” Her head was bowed, and her teeth were worrying her lip. She looked, well, ashamed, and saddened by her actions.

“Tell me everything,”

He listened to her story, trying not to reel as each violent, angry moment she told illustrated how close she’d come to death. His admiration for her strength and ingenuity grew in direct proportion to his anger at her treatment and the urge to protect her.

When she’d finished he gathered her close, tucking her head under his chin. His eyes closed briefly. If she hadn’t had the courage and creativity to save herself, she would have been killed. She also had new information that they might be able to use.

He pulled back and lifted her chin so that he could look into her darkened eyes. “You did good, Kincaid.” She started to shake her head, but he smoothed the hair from her forehead, halting the movement.

“Those men were going to kill you. You did what you did in self-defense. It was them or you, and I prefer it to be them.”

Her brow wrinkled as she stared up at him. “You’ve killed, haven’t you?” It was more of a statement then a question.

He nodded. “I have,” he admitted, and left it at that. “Come on, let’s get dressed. I’ll update Noah and Drew. We might be able to find this Jafari or Tzin Shu.” He said the names thoughtfully. Did one of them sound familiar? He wasn’t sure, he’d have to check the database. He reluctantly rose from the bed. He’d prefer to stay there with Maggie, but duty came first. It was the first time his responsibility weighed heavily upon his shoulders.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Fletch?” Drew asked harshly as he followed Luke out to the car.

Luke nodded as he walked around to the trunk. “Yep.”

Drew threw up his hands. “You slept with Viper, damn it.”

Luke turned abruptly and met his friend’s gaze, his eyes narrowed. “She’s not Viper,” he said with a sigh. “Look, I really don’t think she’s Viper. I think she’s exactly what she claims to be. A librarian having a really bad day. But we may have a lead, and I want to see where it goes.”

He lifted the trunk lid, leaving Drew to ruminate over his words. Luke smiled as he cast his eyes over the contents of the trunk. Reese thought of everything. There were enough hidden compartments to make a smuggler envious, and enough technology to convert the car into a mobile satellite station. He pulled out a slimline laptop and closed the trunk before turning back to his friend.

“Will you trust me?” It was a big thing to ask. This was his first assignment as lead agent, and so far he’d broken every rule in the book.

Drew stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. “You know I do, but you should know something. Reese called while you were, uh, busy.”

Luke watched his friend intently. Drew looked reluctant to speak further. “Go on,”

“The van used in the accident this morning, where the two detectives were murdered?”

Luke nodded, waiting patiently for his friend to get to the point.

“It was located at a warehouse down by the waterfront.”

Luke nodded. “Yeah, that’s where I found Maggie.”

“Did you also find the two dead men she left behind?”

Luke took a deep breath. “Maggie told me about that,” he said. She shouldn’t have been in that situation. If he’d arrived sooner, he would have been able to save her from that action. He would have preferred the deaths to be on his hands, not hers. He, at least, had some experience dealing with that kind of guilt. That kind of remorse stayed with you for the rest of your life.

“It was self defense,” he told Drew.

Drew gaped at him. “Two broken necks?”

Luke frowned. “Broken necks? No. She used—no! She didn’t break their necks.”

Drew glanced quickly up at the door hanging lopsidedly on its frame. “Those men were found with broken necks. I don’t know what your girlfriend told you, but those injuries weren’t accidental, or self-defense. Reese’s emailing us the autopsy reports as soon as they come in.” He looked back at Luke. “Don’t forget, a woman was killed while Maggie was free. And the safe house was compromised. Only MSA staff and Maggie knew of its location.”

Luke felt a cold fist clench in his gut. Drew had a point. He glanced up at the damaged door. Had she lied to him? This case was making his head spin. She had impressive evidence against her, but he’d started to believe her protestations of innocence. What if he was wrong? He thought hard. She could have orchestrated everything. The attacks, the surveillance on her computer. Apart from her say-so, there was nothing to back up her version of events, and everything to point to the alternative—that she was Viper, and that she’d stolen military research and killed people in the process. She’d made up some fairy tale about knitting needles, forklifts and a giant named Tiny, and reeled him in. His lips tightened. And he’d thought she was so clever and courageous. She’d played him.
Damn it!
A cold chill swept his frame at her betrayal. Burning anger soon followed. Anger at Maggie for lying, anger at himself for falling for it. He wanted to yell, to pound the crap out of something. He realized his extreme response was because he’d allowed himself to fall so deeply for the lying woman upstairs.