White Heat (21 page)

“It has nothing to do with that.” At least, she didn't think it did. But there was always the possibility. Was she assuaging her wounded ego by reveling in Ethan's apparent interest?

“You're not trying to prove to me how desirable you are to other men?”

“No! I'm not trying to prove anything.”

“But you think I don't see how attractive you are.”

She pressed her palms to her eyes. “Stop it. That's not my problem at all.”

He punched the gas pedal again once they'd passed Portals few buildings. “Then what is?”

Her problem was that she wasn't acting this time, couldn't slip into another persona, be someone else, like she did when she went undercover on drug deals. She had to cope with her feelings for Nate; not only that, the religious aspect of this assignment forced her
to confront her resentment toward her father. The combination was awkward, uncomfortable, upsetting. She was undercover, but she was playing herself, the one person she usually tried to escape. “I don't know. I think it's all the echoes from my past. It just makes me so…angry that anyone could use religion as a tool against others.”

“You didn't look angry when you were staring into Ethan's eyes,” he muttered. “You looked like you were thinking about a completely different kind of tool.”

“That's crude.”

“Is it true?”

As far as she was concerned, that didn't deserve an answer. “Listen, not everything I do is going to please you, but I'm trying my best, okay?”

“If that was your best, it's not good enough. He ordered his followers to stone a woman, Rachel. Plus, a girl not even eighteen years old went missing shortly after visiting the compound, and I got a very uneasy feeling during dinner that Ethan knows more about it than he's willing to say. Then there's the drunk-driving accident that killed one of the Spiritual Guides who was, by all accounts, growing disenchanted with the Church of the Covenant.”

She loosened her seat belt a little. “You think I've forgotten our purpose here? I'm in this to bring him down, not to get off! If all I cared about was getting off, I'd have plenty of other options.”

His voice dropped. “You're not on the beach now.”

“So? What are you trying to say?”

“I'm one of those options, Rachel. Under the circumstances, I'm your
best
option.”

She blinked. “You're offering me sex? You can't be serious.”

He met her gaze but didn't answer, so she let out a laugh to cover the embarrassment—he really believed she might be desperate enough to accept his ridiculous offer? “You
are
serious. Well, thanks for being willing to make such a big sacrifice, but you can relax. I wouldn't sleep with you again if you were the only man on earth. Not after last time.”

“I thought you couldn't remember anything about last time,” he said as he parked in their driveway and shut off the engine.

“Because I didn't want to hurt your feelings by admitting the truth.”

“Which is…”

“You were lousy, okay? You're no good in bed, and I'm not interested.” Jumping out of the truck, she headed for the trailer.

N
ate knew he hadn't handled that very well. The only way to put an end to the tension between them was to seduce Rachel. But his conscience wouldn't allow it. He hadn't taken Susan's devotion seriously, and look what had happened there. She was okay now and had since married and had a daughter, but things could have ended very differently. For a moment they almost had. A relationship with Rachel could go just as wrong. She'd been on her own for too many years, was lonely and disillusioned and searching for the love she'd been denied by her father. And he wasn't the right man to give her that. They were worlds apart. But it bothered him that, after the ceremonial dance, Ethan was probably as aware of her need as he was—not the need for religion she was trying so hard to feign but the need for love she was trying so hard to hide.

Leaning his head against the back of the chair he'd dragged into the front yard as soon as he thought Rachel was asleep, he gazed up at the stars. What should he do? He was going crazy out here. All he could think about was touching her, regardless of the damage he might cause.

Thanks for being willing to make such a big sacri
fice….
He laughed softly to himself. She had no idea. If he wasn't working so hard to protect her, she would've been in his bed the first night they'd arrived and every night since.

Movement in his peripheral vision made him turn toward the trailer. Rachel was up. Thanks to the moonlight, he could see her at the kitchen window, peering out toward the driveway, checking for his truck.

With a sigh, he pushed himself up and headed inside. He wasn't out here to worry her or punish her. The situation between them was tense enough.

As soon as he walked in, she folded her arms over the tank top she wore to bed each night. Obviously, she hadn't been expecting to run into him. She hadn't even turned on the lights. She'd merely tiptoed out of her room to see if he'd left.

Because of what had happened the last time he'd seen her like this, he expected her to dart into her bedroom and not come out again. But she held her ground.

“You have something more to say to me?” he asked from the entrance to the kitchen.

She cleared her throat. “As a matter of fact, I do. I—I owe you an apology for—” her eyes lowered “—saying what I did about that night in January. I…What happened at your condo was my fault, not yours. I realize that.” He couldn't see her clearly in the dark, but he could imagine how flushed her cheeks were. The embarrassment she felt made her voice sound a bit strangled. “So it's not fair for me to be unkind about it. I got what I asked for, and when it was all over I got what I deserved.”

He winced. “Rachel, I wasn't trying to hurt you. I—”

She broke in. “I know. I understand. I put you in a
very awkward position, and I'm sorry. I can't believe I was so colossally stupid. I don't know what I was thinking.”

He knew exactly what she'd been thinking. She'd overheard the guys at work talking about how great it would be to come home and find a beautiful woman in bed and she took a risk to give him that. It would've been fine, except that she was expecting more than he could offer in return. He wanted to explain, but she was determined to get through her spiel.

“Anyway, I want you to know that you…you're not lousy in bed. That's a very mean-spirited thing to say to a man.”

“You don't have to apologize.” He hated that she was. It made him feel worse. But she had such an exacting conscience. She couldn't stand the thought that she might've hurt his feelings or damaged his ego when she was the one who'd instigated everything in the first place.

“Let me finish,” she said. “You had every right to kick me out,
and you should have.
”

She'd spoken with enough chagrin to tell him that she wished he'd done it. But he'd tried. She'd be surprised to learn he hadn't been able to refuse her, that he'd wanted her too badly.

“I was…upset when we left Paradise,” she went on. “Upset with myself and not you. And that's why I lashed out.” Her eyes finally met his again; he could see the reflection of the moonlight in them. “But you also need to understand that I'm completely over you, so you don't have to be afraid that I might…misinterpret what you say or do, okay? I won't put you in another terrible situation.”

That night at his condo had been anything but terrible. At least, until the sun rose and they'd had to confront reality—and each other. “Rachel—”

“Please, I don't want you to say anything. I…I need you to trust me the same way you'd trust anyone else at Department 6.” Her voice dropped. “Trust me to do my job.”

He stepped toward her, but she backed away, keeping the same amount of space between them. “Can you do that?”

Shit.
She had everything all wrong, had no idea how much he'd enjoyed the night they were together, how many times he'd replayed it since. But what good would it do to explain? What he had to say wouldn't change the bottom line. “Sure, I can do that.”

She managed a smile. “Great. I appreciate it. And now that I've apologized, I'd be really happy if we could forget my little blunder.” Her expression turned sheepish. “Er,
huge
blunder.”

He couldn't forget. He'd tried. “No problem.”

“Great,” she said again. “You haven't told any of the guys, have you?”

The intensity of her regret bothered him. “Come on, I'm not like that.”

She sighed in relief. “We're good to go, then. It's in the past, I've finally apologized and now we can
both
forget.”

“Sure.”

“Shall we start over? Be friends?”

He shoved a hand through his hair. She was saying all the right things but, damn, he liked it better when she was yelling that he was lousy in bed. At least then
he knew she was as rattled by whatever was going on between them as he was. “Of course.”

“Thanks.” She stuck out her hand to shake on it, but the second he clasped her fingers he felt as if he couldn't let go. Maybe it was those big eyes of hers. Or that wide, expressive mouth. It could even be her chest, which was rising and falling too rapidly to make him believe he was the only one whose heart was beating in his throat.

“Rachel?”

Her tongue darted out, wetting her bottom lip. “Hmm?”

“You talk too much,” he said. Then he kissed her. It made no sense. He was doing the exact opposite of what he should be doing, especially now that they'd agreed to start over, but sometimes he couldn't think straight when he was around her.

Her mouth was as pliable and warm as he remembered it. She tasted like the wine she'd drunk at the party. He slid his thumbs under the flimsy lace of her panties as he brought her hard against him.

When she molded to him, and her tongue met his, he moaned. He thought he was home free. But then she stiffened as if she suddenly realized what she was doing and pushed him away.

“Ha, ha. That was…that was a clever test,” she said with a breathless laugh and fled the kitchen.

 

“I think it would be a mistake.”

Ethan scowled at Bartholomew. They were in his room, where they could speak freely. But it wasn't often that Bart disagreed with him so strenuously. “
Why?
You had no argument with what I wanted before.”

“I had the chance to observe her husband tonight.”

Ethan pulled off his jalabiya and gave it to Bart, who turned to hang it up for him. He handed over the less formal robe Ethan wore when lounging in his rooms, but Ethan tossed it aside. He liked being naked, liked knowing how it affected Bart. “And?”

Bartholomew's eyes swept over him, his appreciation obvious and far more gratifying than it should've been. “He'll never go along with it.”

“So?” Ethan shrugged. “Who is he to stand in my way?”

“I'm afraid he's more formidable than you think.”

Letting Bart look his fill, Ethan struck a provocative pose. He wanted another of Bart's massages. Bart used to offer them all the time, but lately it'd been Ethan who instigated the contact. He didn't want to be the seeker tonight. “He's got a nice physique. But that doesn't mean he's got a brain.”

Bart seemed transfixed. It was the first time Ethan had ever been so open with him, and he was definitely taking note. “No, he's intelligent. And more determined than a lot of men.” He stepped forward as if drawn by an external force. “Damn, I love you.”

The words slipped over Ethan like a silken sheet, confirming what he'd long suspected. And, oddly enough, he didn't mind hearing it as much as he'd always told himself he would. On the contrary, he found Bart's passion reassuring, even
thrilling.
Of all the Spiritual Guides, he had the most respect for Bartholomew. “I don't plan to challenge him,” he said, ignoring the personal declaration.

Bart moved to the nightstand, where he withdrew the
massage oil just as Ethan had hoped he would. They were inching closer to what had been coming for months, maybe since they'd met. “Naming his wife the Vessel, the bride of the whole church, will challenge him, make no mistake.”

“Which is why I'm not going to name her the Vessel.” Ethan stretched across the bed. “Not right away. First, I'll give Nathan any woman he wants, let him choose several a night if it makes him happy. Once he accepts our ways, once we have enough pictures that he wouldn't want her or the outside world to see, he'll become more pliable, I promise.”

“Pliable? That's not a word I'd ever associate with him.”

“He's a man, isn't he? He won't be able to resist what we have to offer.”

“There are some men who could.”

Ethan propped himself against the pillows. “Men like yourself?”

“Men like your father.”

“You mean, a rigid bastard?” he said with a grimace.

“I mean, a man who prides himself on honor and control. That's what Robert's like, isn't it?”

Ethan shrugged. He knew he didn't have as much honor in his whole body and soul as the old man had in his little finger. He had even less control. And he hated the contrast. “But Nathan's young and hot-blooded. He's not so different from me. You could see the way he watched Rachel when she was in my arms. He's as sexual as I am. I just have to convince him that I'm his friend so he'll let down his guard and indulge. Grady was hesitant at first, too, remember?”

“Grady will hump anything that moves. I don't think
he's a good comparison.” Bart rubbed the oil between his hands, warming it before touching Ethan's skin.

“We could throw a few temptations his way, gauge his level of interest, then decide. Rachel's worth fighting for.”

“You thought Courtney was worth fighting for, too. And she's now in a grave under that window.”

Ethan shoved the pillows aside and moved onto his stomach in preparation for his massage. “Thanks to your lousy plot selection.”

“Closer is better. Trust me.”

He did, which was why he'd allowed it.

“I'm merely making the point that there'll be others,” Bart continued, smoothing the oil up and down Ethan's spine. Bart knew every muscle, every sore spot. He'd given Ethan at least a hundred massages, more in recent weeks than ever before.

“That feels good,” he moaned.

“Good enough that you'll leave Rachel alone?”

A year ago, Ethan would've thrown Bart out for trying to persuade him to change his mind. But he'd been growing more and more dependent on Bart and his opinions. What had started out as tolerance in exchange for devotion had grown into a bond he preferred not to classify, primarily because it called his sexuality into question. That was something he'd never doubted before. He'd always been heterosexual, and he still was.

Except, perhaps, when it came to Bart.

“Don't make me angry,” he said.

Bart laughed. “I'm not. I'm giving you exactly what you want, aren't I?”

“How do you know it's what I want?”

“Because no one else can take care of you like I can.”

Ethan couldn't argue with that. “Why do you do it?”

“I just told you.”

“You love me.”

No response.

“How much?” It was the first time Ethan had ever asked. He'd never really wanted to hear it spoken aloud before. But tonight… There was something different going on, something titillating.

“More than life,” Bart admitted.

Ethan rolled to his right, once again exposing himself. “How does that translate into action?”

Their eyes met, but Bart didn't answer.

A tremor of fear and excitement ran through Ethan. “No reply?”

“You already know my answer. I'll do anything to have you.”

Clasping his hands behind his neck, Ethan gazed at his own quickly growing erection. He could have any woman in the compound, yet he wanted
Bart?
He almost couldn't believe it, but he couldn't deny it, either. The lust was as real as it was powerful. “Why don't you show me?”

The strength of the emotion that flickered in Bart's eyes took Ethan's breath away, yet Bart hesitated. “Once you cross that line, there's no going back. Are you sure you're ready?”

Bart acted as if it had been coming to this all along, as if he'd expected it. Ethan arched one eyebrow. “How can you be so sure I'll enjoy it?”

“Because I know you.”

That was true. Bart was the only person in the world
who loved him for who and what he really was. “Sounds like it's a good thing we're alone.”

“You won't be able to tell anyone about this, not even the Guides.”

Bart was
still
protecting him. He finally had a chance to share his feelings in a physical sense and yet he was holding back because he feared for Ethan. Had anyone else ever cared about him this much? “You think I don't know that?” he said. “The Covenanters won't abide homosexuality, even if it's just a little fling.”