Viper's Kiss (9 page)

“Hurry up,” Luke whispered.

“Easy for you to say, you’ve got night vision,” Maggie retorted. At least, she assumed that’s what the goggles were for.

She pulled herself up the rungs until she reached the hole and peeked over the rim.
Sweet Mary and Joseph.
She’d misjudged the length of the corridor. They were in somebody’s backyard. Thankfully nobody was about.

A hand on her butt had her hurrying out of the hole. She wished she didn’t like the contact, but well…She shook her head. She was crazy. That was it. She’d finally snapped. After the events of the day, who could blame her?

Luke hoisted himself up silently behind her, closed the cover and lay on his tummy, pulling her down to the ground with him.

“Stay low,” he muttered in her ear. She watched him crawl to the fence and hoist himself up to peer over the five-foot barrier.

Sirens could be heard in the distance. Maggie felt a rush of relief. Thank God, the cops were on their way. Then she remembered they’d take her in for murder and espionage if they found her.
Damn
.

Luke waved her over. She gritted her teeth and crawled.

Luke waited for Maggie to reach him. He bit his lip. She looked like a mud-stuck salamander as she mimicked his commando crawl.

She finally made it over to him, breathless and dirty. And looking sexy as hell, her hair a riotous mess, and smudges on her cheek. She was running with him, not from him. His instincts were hollering at him to believe her. She was remarkable. Most women he knew would be hysterical by now, but not Maggie. She was calm, cool, ready to act. And she turned him on. He didn’t bother to check the impulse. He jerked his goggles up, leaned in and gave her a hard kiss.

He heard her breath hitch and her eyes met his as he pulled back. He paused, looking into her eyes. For once there wasn’t fear in her eyes, or sadness, or vulnerability. He recognized the emotion in her gaze for what it was, the mirror of his own desire. Her gaze fell to his lips and she leaned closer. It was all the invitation he needed.

He pressed her back against the fence, his head ducking down as his lips met hers and his hands slid under her jacket.

Her mouth instantly widened at the contact, and he swept his tongue in. He heard her faint moan, and her surrender sent the blood draining from his brain to another part of his body.

His hands roamed over her as their tongues entwined. Her slender hips, the narrow indent of her waist, all seemed to create a roadmap to her breasts. He was right. They were made to fill a man’s hands.
His hands
. And no silicone. She moaned again into his mouth and pressed her body closer as he caressed her breasts through the shirt she wore. His hands slid back down to her waist and under her shirt. Her skin felt warm and smooth to the touch.

The short burst of a horn on the other side of the fence had him pulling away from her. He sucked breath back into his lungs and met her stunned gaze. Her chest rose and fell as she panted, her glistening lips slightly parted. He wanted to touch her again. Kiss her. He blinked.

We’re in someone’s backyard, for Christ’s sake
. Someone was shooting up the safe house, and he was having a serious grope fest with Viper.

The horn sounded again. Drew had arrived with the backup car they stored in a rented garage several houses down the street. Thank God the fence hid them from view. Luke couldn’t believe he’d just lapsed in such a spectacular fashion.

He jerked his head to the fence. “Up and over, Kincaid.”

She blinked at him. “What?” Her eyes were fast losing their slumberous look.

“Over the fence. Now.”

She turned to survey the fence. “But how—Hey!”

He grabbed her waist and hoisted her up high enough for her to sling a leg over. The contact with her body sent heat charging through his veins, and he quickly withdrew his grip.

She made a funny surprised yelp as she flipped over the fence, and he winced at the sound of the thud on the other side.

He gripped the top of the fence and hauled himself over, dropping down to the ground next to her. She was muttering to herself as she patted the ground around her. He picked up the pistol she’d dropped and handed it to her.

“Come on,” he told her, and pulled her to her feet, running toward the car that was waiting for them on the other side of the street. A dark shadow emerged from the line of trees and crossed toward them. Luke had the man in his sights before he realized it was Noah. He lowered his weapon and nodded.

“The bastard has more fire power than the NRA,” Noah growled. “He kept moving along the perimeter—and he’s good. Couldn’t nail him.”

Noah held the door open for Maggie and she climbed in. Luke was admiring the view of her retreating butt when an explosion lit the night sky behind them. Both he and Noah instinctively ducked as a fireball engulfed the craftsman cottage they’d just escaped.

Luke leaped into the backseat and pulled the door closed. Drew floored the accelerator as Noah dived through the front passenger window.

Drew put some distance between them and the fireball. Noah chuckled merrily as he righted himself in the front seat.

“What’s so funny?” Luke asked.

“I’m just thinking of Reese’s reaction when you tell him you blew up his safe house on your first mission.”

Drew threw back his head as he joined in Noah’s laughter. Luke shook his head in disgust as his two friends proceeded to crack more jokes about his destructive capabilities.

In the darkness a slender hand reached over and clasped his. He didn’t turn his gaze from the street scene outside, but answered the light touch with a grasp of his own.

Maggie stood just inside the motel room, looking around the dingy interior with some misgiving. A neon light from a bar across the road bathed the room in periodic bordello-red flashes, despite the brown curtain she’d drawn across the window.

A queen-sized bed with a green and brown patterned quilt that looked like commando-camouflage baby vomit took up most of the space. Scarred wooden bedside tables sported lamps that looked like they were bought at a yard sale in the seventies, as well as a phone perched atop the local phonebook. Only one lamp worked, and it cast a weak golden light that had no effect on the gloom. An ancient television stand stood at the end of the bed, almost entirely blocking the path to what she assumed was an equally dingy bathroom.

Luke entered, closed the door behind him and leaned against it. Tall, blond and too damn dangerous for her peace of mind. Normally she wasn’t moved by a man’s good looks. She prided herself on being far too intelligent to fall for a pair of sexy blue eyes, but Luke was something else. He was a man of substance. He’d risked his life to save hers. Twice. He stared at her, his expression inscrutable. Silence filled the room.

“You drew the short straw, huh?” she said in a vain attempt to lighten the mood. Luke, Drew and Noah had held a furiously whispered conference outside the door for several minutes before Luke had finally pulled away and entered the room. She guessed they were discussing who would take first watch with her. They didn’t trust her. Luke didn’t trust her. She didn’t know why that hurt, but it did.

She looked down at the brown stained carpet. Memories of the scorching kiss they’d shared in a stranger’s backyard lanced through her. What had she been thinking? Well, obviously she hadn’t been thinking, she mused.

She wished she could say he’d overwhelmed her, but she’d wanted that kiss just as much as he had. Maybe even more. She was the good girl, the clever student who spent her time reading and studying. Good grief, she hadn’t even left the library after college, instead completing her masters so that she could forever remain surrounded by books, reading and studying. She was tired of thinking everything through, assessing possible outcomes. In that moment with Luke in the garden, she had just wanted to do something. Not plan it, not analyze it, just do it. And it had been wonderful.

Luke cleared his throat. “Uh, look, about before…”

She shook her head as she looked up. “No, it’s okay.” She knew what he was about to say. She didn’t want him to apologize for what had happened. Then she would have to feel sorry herself for the first time she actually let her heart rule her head. And she didn’t want that.

Luke frowned. “No, it’s not okay. It was unprofessional—”

She held up her hand to halt his apology. “Look, it’s perfectly natural. These things happen.”

Luke frowned again. “They do?”

Maggie shook her hair back as she took a deep breath. “Well, yes. There are several studies that show birth and marriage rates increase directly after a disaster, along with subsequent divorce rates, suggesting that people are more likely to have sex in times of danger.”

“Is that so?” Luke asked, an eyebrow rising.

Maggie nodded. “Yep. I call it the Disaster Relationship Syndrome. One theory is that it’s due to a biological drive to procreate and ensure the survival of the species. Another theory is that people are expressing a need for emotional connection and security during dangerous circumstances. So don’t worry about, ah—it,” she finished lamely.
Damn.
Why did she always have to sound like a talking encyclopedia. She just wanted to shut up and kiss him again. She shook her head. “Besides, it’s too soon.”

Luke blinked. “Too soon?”

She nodded as she folded her arms across her chest. “Yes.” She shut her eyes briefly. “I mean, no,” she amended. “I mean, it’s not like we’re following the ninety day rule.”
Oh, this is so embarrassing
. “Look, you want me arrested, I want my freedom…” Her voice trailed off and her shoulders slumped. Put like that, she had absolutely no business kissing the man. She sighed. Freedom.

She’d often wondered what it would be like when her mother succumbed to her disease. She’d envisaged that once she’d gotten past the grief and paid off the medical bills, she’d have a small measure of freedom. She’d yearned for her freedom. The freedom to live where she wanted, to travel. The freedom to come and go as she pleased, to not have to watch over someone constantly, measure out and administer medication, squeeze work in between emptying buckets and changing beds. Well, her mother was dead, and freedom seemed the furthest thing from her grasp. She hadn’t factored in the mind-numbing sadness at the loss of her mother. Worst of all, she just couldn’t quite work up the energy to do anything. She thought of her earlier conversation with Luke and the other men. She just didn’t care anymore.

“Ninety day rule?” Luke queried. He’d been leaning with casual ease against the doorframe, and as he spoke he straightened. Maggie was reminded of a graceful cat, stretching. “What ninety day rule?”

Maggie frowned. Why had she brought it up? What was she thinking? And could he please just let it go? “Oh, the ninety-day-probationary-period-before-intimate-contact rule.” She forced herself to sound natural. No big deal, this was only one of the most embarrassing conversations she’d ever had. And she was so tired.

Luke’s eyebrow rose. “Pardon?”

Maggie’s cheeks heated. “Um, usually I have a ninety day probationary period before getting, um, acquainted on a more physical level with a man.”
Okay, now it’s official. This is the most embarrassing conversation I’ve ever had.

“Wow.” Luke’s face cracked into a smile. Maggie stared at him. He looked younger, relaxed. Sexy.

“Ninety days, huh? Not many would last that long, I’m sure.”

Maggie felt as though her face was on fire as she fiddled with a sleeve. “Uh, yeah,” she said, pulling at a loose thread. At last count, well, zero.

Luke shook his head, a puzzled frown marring his brow. “You’re a very orderly person, aren’t you?”

Maggie nodded.
Yep. Orderly, that’s me
. She liked things just so, and usually had no difficulty convincing others that they liked it that way too. There was a proper logic and reason to everything. Except, she amended, to her current situation.

She gestured to the room. “Why are we here? I would have thought you’d take me to the nearest police station.”

Luke hesitated before answering. “We’ve agreed that whoever is after you has no qualms about killing cops and putting civilians at risk. We’ve decided to lay low until we get some more information. Then we’ll arrange a handover to a secure team.”

Maggie nodded. He still thought she was Viper, still wanted her arrested. Jailed. She smiled, trying to keep her shoulders straight and her chin up. Well, at least he seemed more concerned about her safety than her last captors.

“The problem is, Luke, I’m not Viper. I don’t have the suit. I can’t help you,” she said softly. She dropped down to sit on the bed. “My computer was blown up along with your safe house. I can’t use it to prove my innocence and show that someone else accessed that research. And we now have no link to Viper, no way to trace her.” She sighed. She still couldn’t explain her image on the CCTV footage, either.
Could things get any worse?

She thought about her situation. There was no way the university would allow her to keep her job after this. Even if she managed to prove her innocence, a goal that seemed about as attainable as Wonder Woman walking through that door, she couldn’t deny her computer had been used to steal from a major contributor and research company with the university. How she was going to pay her bills now was another issue. Of course, she couldn’t very well pay them off from jail.

Luke walked over and sat down next to her. “Tell me who Andy is.”

Her head whipped around, her eyes widened. That was something out of left field.

“Andy?”
God, Andy
. She’d tried not to think of him for years, now.
The no-good scumbag
.

Luke nodded as he twisted to face her. “Yeah, Andy. Your mother seemed to think it was important to apologize for him.”

Her mother’s guilt over what happened had been a burden for both of them. Maggie blinked away the familiar burning behind her eyes. She’d already wasted too many tears over the rat bastard. He wasn’t going to get more out of her.

“Andy was my mother’s boyfriend.” She spoke with a calmness she didn’t feel.

“What happened?”

Maggie looked up at the ceiling.
What happened? Our lives ended, that’s what happened.

“He had a key to our place and Mom had a key to his. She dated him for about two years. I was fourteen when they met.” And at that age, she’d just accepted folks as they were, not imagining the evil they could hide.

“One day, when I was sixteen, I came home from school.” Her throat felt clogged, and she tried to clear it. This was a difficult subject to talk about. “Andy was there.”

She felt Luke stiffen beside her, saw his grip tighten on his jeans as he tried to remain casual. Her own muscles clenched at the memory.

“He was waiting for me. He, uh, he tried to, uh, damn!” Even now it was hard for her to put it into words. The terror, the pain. The subsequent anger at herself.

“He raped you?” Luke asked, his voice hoarse.

She could feel the tension emanating from him, as though the air between them was charged with his vibration. She could hear it in his voice, see it in his grip.

She shook her head. “No. No, he didn’t. But he tried.” She inhaled. Held her breath. Let it back out again. “Mom came home while we were struggling.” She felt her lips twitch. “She hit him over the head with a frying pan, and kept hitting him until he ran off.” Even now, the memory of her diminutive mother wading in with the frying pan like an Amazon warrior filled her with awe and pride. And relief. Andy had said her mother wouldn’t believe her, would side with him if Maggie’d dared to breathe a word to her. Well, he’d misjudged Lillian Kincaid.