What She Doesn't See (19 page)

When had she turned so dumb?

“What you see is what you get, Alex. Nothing
more, nothing less.”

She tried to think of a witty comeback but
wit escaped her this morning. He walked toward her and her pulse
reacted. She told herself to look away, but she simply couldn’t.
The way he moved was… fascinating. Slow, deliberate, unbelievably
sexy. His words filtered through the lust and she wondered if he’d
meant the statement as a warning or as an invitation.

When he stopped only a couple of feet away,
she decided it was time she knew more about him. Anything to break
the tension and maybe even to discover something she disliked. “You
married, Murphy?”

“No.”

“Ever been married?”

“No.”

“Kids?”

“No.”

Well, damn.

“Brothers?”

“No.”

Alex pushed a handful of hair behind her ear.
“Sisters?”

“No.”

If he said no to her next question—

“My parents live in Iowa,” he said before she
could ask. “I’m an only child and I’ve never had time to give a
long-term relationship the attention it needed.”

“So you steer away from commitment?”
Interesting. They had something in common.

“Relationships are complicated. I don’t need
additional complications in my life.”

She relaxed for the first time since waking
up. “I have to agree.” She hadn’t really planned to make that
confession out loud, but there it was.

Murphy leaned in her direction. Only a
little. She might not have even noticed if she hadn’t been staring
so intently at him.

“I don’t get personally involved.”

Alex laughed softly. “Don’t flatter yourself,
Murphy. I was making conversation not trying to get to know you
better.”

When he said nothing, she added, “And I
invited you to sleep inside my house last night because I felt
sorry for you.” She laughed, the sound a little strained. “Just
because I let you kiss me a couple of times doesn’t mean I have any
interest whatsoever in getting involved with you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

His words fanned the flames already raging
inside her. She had to head this off
now
.

“I should…” She gestured toward her bedroom.
“Get my bag…” What did she say next? How could she think with him
staring at her so intently? The urge to grab him by the shirtfront
and pull him closer was a palpable need. “I have things to do.”

When she would have moved away from him,
long, powerful fingers curled around her wrist. She turned to face
him, knowing it was a mistake of monumental proportion and, yet she
was helpless to do otherwise. The same fire burning her up simmered
in his eyes.

Damn him. “I’m not having sex with you,
Murphy.”

“I didn’t ask you to have sex with me.” His
gaze held hers so intimately she ached with the intensity of
it.

“Yes, you did.” Saying the words wasn’t
necessary. She saw the want in his eyes.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was a
mistake.”

One he’d made twice. “Whatever you say.”

He released her and let her walk away. She
would have been home free if she had just walked straight into her
bedroom without looking back. But she hadn’t.

He stood there watching her. His fierce
control had slipped a little more. He looked almost...
vulnerable.

Before she could guess his next move, he was
right in front of her and diving both hands into her hair. Her
brain betrayed her, left her floundering for an appropriate
response.

He tilted her chin up and kissed her. Not the
fast and furious way he had before. He took his time, lingered, his
mouth devouring hers infinitely slowly. She told herself not to
move—not to touch him—but she couldn’t resist. She flattened her
palms against his chest, allowed them to glide over that hard
terrain.

Without breaking the kiss, he picked her up
and carried her to the bed. She told herself to stop this before it
was too late, but the idea was like giving up breathing.
Impossible
. She reached for the buttons of his shirt, her
fingers fumbling in their haste.

He lowered her feet to the floor. She tugged
his shirt from his trousers and peeled it off him. For a moment she
could only touch him. Her greedy hands moved over the smooth skin
stretched tight over hard muscle. His fingers found their way to
the hem of her tank and tugged it up and over her head. He sucked
in a harsh breath as he traced the lacy fabric of her black bra.
She wanted it off… she wanted his hands on her breasts.

As if he’d read her mind, he unfastened the
hooks and lifted the bra away from her. His palms curved over her
breasts and desire tightened inside her. She arched into his touch.
He leaned down and tasted one taut nipple. She cried out. His hands
were suddenly all over her. She unfastened his fly and pushed his
trousers and underwear off his lean hips. His thick arousal nudged
her belly. She shivered. Her hands slid downward, tracing his hips
and that tantalizing vee until she encircled his length. He
groaned.

As if her intimate touch had been the last
straw, he ushered her onto the bed, shucked his trousers, and then
tugged off her jeans. He took his time sliding her panties down her
legs. He kissed her ankle, lavished the arch of her foot with his
tongue. By the time he climbed onto the bed with her, she was
trembling with need. With her last rational thought she reached
into the top drawer of her bedside table and fumbled for a condom.
He took it from her, ripped open the foil package, and stretched
the slick latex into place.

His blue eyes locked with hers as he came
down on top of her. He guided himself into that wet, aching place
between her thighs. She entwined her legs with his and lifted her
hips to meet his thrust. He pushed fully inside her and she
came.

He held still, watching her fall apart. When
those sweet waves of completion had subsided, he finally moved. She
couldn’t stop touching him. She wanted to explore every inch of
him. He made her come again before withdrawing and kissing his way
down her body. He used every delicious trick in the book to
pleasure her and her body hummed with the magic of his touch.

When she tried to pull him back to her once
more, needing him inside her, he trapped her hands in his. “Not
yet,” he murmured.

He drove her mad with nothing more than his
lips and his amazing tongue until she thought she would lose her
mind. Then he filled her once more and it was her turn to watch him
come undone.

Alex wasn’t sure how much time had passed.
All she knew was that she never wanted to move. The feel of him
spooned against her made her want to stay like this forever. Mr.
Control had known exactly how to make her lose control. Having him
lay with her like this when she’d expected him to make a hasty
retreat, broke down her defenses a little more. All these years she
had sworn she loved being single, that she refused to have her life
measured by whether or not she was part of a pair.

She had been lying to herself.

He raised up on one elbow and left a sweet
kiss on her shoulder. “I should shower and get dressed.”

She smiled, wishing the moment didn’t have to
end. Just watching him walk away made her weak with need.

Do not fall for this guy, Alex
. He
would be gone when this was over.

Why on earth did her heart want to take a
risk on a guy like Wyatt Murphy?

Because there was no one else on earth like
him, she was certain. He made her want…
more
.

The sound of the water running in the shower
prompted her to get up. She grabbed a robe and started to shoulder
into it but hesitated. A wicked grin slid across her lips. She
strolled out of her room, dragging the robe behind her. Like she
figured, he’d left the bathroom door open.

Why not join him? If she never saw him again
after this was over, she might as well enjoy every minute.

A knock at the front door derailed her
fantasy. She took one last look at his fine backside and sighed.
“Maybe later.”

Dragging on her robe, she hurried to the door
as a second knock echoed. She reached for the door but stopped
herself. She should be sure who was out there before—

Another knock, this one harder. The sound
made her jump. She leaned forward and checked the security
peephole.

Marg’s face was all she saw at first. Her
mother looked hurt… or terrified. Then Alex saw the muzzle of the
gun jammed against her temple.

Alex’s heart lunged into her throat. She
reached for the doorknob.

“Don’t open the door, Alex!”

Murphy’s words reverberated through her too
late. Alex had already released the lock. She glanced back at him.
A towel slung around his hips, a gun in his hand, Murphy was moving
toward her. He was saying something… She watched his lips move, his
words lost to the roar of her own blood in her ears.

The door flew inward.

“Get down!” Murphy shouted.

Marg screamed. Alex whirled toward her. The
man holding her mother at gunpoint abruptly hauled her away.
Another man darted around him, a weapon in his hand. Alex saw the
muzzle flash… heard the gunshot exploding in the room.

A third man grabbed Alex and dragged her out
the door.

“You have ten seconds,” Wyatt warned.

The paramedic glanced up at him but didn’t
speak.

“Murphy, the man is trying to patch you up,”
Agent Ned Fairbanks admonished.

“Three seconds and I’m walking out that
door,” Wyatt warned anyone listening.

“Good to go, sir.” The paramedic added a
large bandage over the suture job on Wyatt’s side and stepped back.
“You should have your personal physician look at that as soon as
possible.”

“Thanks.” Wyatt grimaced as he buttoned his
shirt. “I’m gone.”

Fairbanks checked his cell. “You know I can’t
let you do this alone.”

Technically, Fairbanks was not his superior.
Wyatt tucked his weapon at the small of his back. Half a dozen
agents were milling around Alex’s house. The agent assigned to Marg
was en route to the ER. Two unidentified enemy agents were down,
and a third was alive but refusing to talk.

“You give me two minutes with our prisoner,”
Wyatt suggested, “and I’ll let you tag along for the rescue.”

“I don’t think so. I heard about what you did
to Johnson. The director is not going to like it.”

Wyatt had learned a long time ago that the
director preferred to hear the job was done without all the gory
details. “We’re wasting time.”

Fairbanks hissed a heavy breath. “Do not make
me regret this, Murphy.”

Wyatt grabbed his car keys from where they’d
fallen on the floor. He tossed them to the nearest agent. “There’s
a gym bag in my trunk. I’m going to need it.”

“I think I’ll wait outside,” Fairbanks
announced.

“Good idea.”

When Wyatt had his gym bag, he ordered the
rest of the team out of the house. He stepped around the two bodies
on the floor waiting for removal and joined the lone survivor at
Alex’s kitchen table. The guy’s hands were cuffed behind his back
and his ankles were secured.

Wyatt placed the gym bag on the table. He
opened it and removed his tools. Hammer, box cutter, nails, and
pliers. On second thought, he grabbed the hacksaw.

“I have two questions for you.” When the
cocky guy would have argued, Wyatt went on. “You will answer my
questions. You can trust me on that.”

Some of the man’s arrogance vanished.

“One, where did they take the hostages?”
Wyatt picked up the hacksaw and studied it. “Two, how many are in
my way?”

Alex couldn’t say for sure how much time had
passed. An hour maybe. The men who’d kidnapped her and Marg had
tied their hands and feet and blindfolded them for the ride. Once
they’d arrived at wherever the hell they were, the same two men had
hauled them into this dark room, ripped off their blindfolds, and
left them here.

Marg huddled close. She was still shaking.
Alex wished she could hug her.

“Do you think someone will come rescue
us?”

Alex smiled but it was too dark for her mom
to see. “Absolutely. Murphy won’t let us down.”

“I’m so scared, Alex.”

Alex wiggled closer to her. “It’s okay to be
scared, but we will get through this.”

She closed her eyes and prayed this wouldn’t
be the time she let her mother down. All this insanity was her
fault.
Please let us get through this and let Wyatt be
okay
…

Those final moments in the house had played
over and over in her head. The sound of the weapons discharging.
Wyatt rushing toward her. Had he been hit by the gunfire? She
wasn’t sure.

He’ll be here
.

Metal scraped against metal and the door
opened with a whine. Overhead lights came on, harsh and bright.
Alex blinked as she tried to see the dark figures that entered the
gray room. Not a regular room. More like a big walk-in vault.

Two armed men who were dressed like guards or
soldiers took positions on either side of the open door before a
third man entered. Like Avery and Crane, this man appeared to be in
his late sixties and distinguished, if not handsome. What was it
with all these old guys? Did they have nothing better to do than to
get into trouble by stealing secret technology and killing
people?

“Alex Jackson,” he said with a nod. “We
finally meet.”

This one had an accent that sounded British.
“What do you want?”

“My time is very limited, Alex, so I’ll get
straight to the point. The device, where is it?”

The reality that this man could hurt her
mother—and probably would—made Alex’s stomach churn and her heart
skip a beat. She’d told herself repeatedly that she could be strong
enough.
Don’t fall down now
. She had to do this right.
Marg’s life depended on what Alex did next.