Читать книгу Seduced By The Enemy - Jamie Denton Ann - Страница 10

TAKING THE HARD VINYL chair Jared indicated, Peyton sat at the round table in the far corner of the motel room and quickly surveyed her surroundings, surreptitiously searching for a means of escape. Her only hope was the bathroom, but from the brief glimpse she’d had when Jared flipped on the lights, she couldn’t be sure if it even had a window. There had to be, she thought. Considering Jared had to have made getting out of places in a hurry his number one priority, she couldn’t imagine him holing up without an alternate means of escape.

At least the place was clean, if a strong disinfectant smell was any indication. Although dull from years of wear and tear, the multicolored shag carpet was well maintained. Thankfully, she hadn’t noticed a single critter scurrying from the light, either. Not that she cared one way or another, because she had no intention of staying.

The fact that he’d kidnapped her by disposable lighter, rather than gunpoint, reassured her to some small degree that regardless of all the tough talk, he didn’t plan to hurt her. Still, a part of her wasn’t quite so confident. In the hard man currently holding her captive, she barely recognized the Jared she’d known. Gone was the smooth, polished federal agent with a promising career ahead of him. A fugitive she barely recognized remained, one accused of a brutal double murder.

Only memories existed now. Memories better left alone if she planned to maintain emotional distance.

She watched him as he secured the door, then peered through a crack in the draperies to the parking lot they’d left only moments ago.

“So what do you plan on doing with me now that you’ve got me here?” She touched the tabletop with the tips of her fingers. When they didn’t stick to the surface, she crossed her arms and leaned against the imitation wood grain. “If it’s ransom money you’re looking for, forget it. I’m practically broke.”

He made a noise that could have been a grunt of disagreement. As if the security bar and dead bolt weren’t enough, he slid one of the vinyl chairs beneath the knob and wedged it against the door.

“Jared? Are you going to tell me what’s going on? I’d like to be home before midnight, if you don’t mind.”

He turned to face her. In the soft buttery glow of the lamplight, she finally saw him clearly. Unable to help herself, she stared in utter fascination. His dark mink-colored hair, always kept short, now brushed his collar, the perfect accompaniment to the faded jeans and worn denim shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders. There was that slight graying at his temples that conflicted with the rebel look, adding a distinguished quality that most men wouldn’t see until their mid-forties or later. He was about twenty pounds thinner than she remembered, but from the way the jeans and shirt clung to his body, she suspected he was no less muscular. Maybe even more so.

Much to her surprise, she realized she longed to see the hint of mischief that had once filled his green eyes, along with the lopsided grin she could never resist. If she could catch just a trace of the old Jared, then maybe the past three years would all seem like a bad dream.

She gave herself a hard mental shake. The past could not be changed. Hadn’t she learned that lesson time and again throughout her life? Reality stood before her, changed and unfamiliar. She might not like what he’d become, but the hardness she sensed had always lurked beneath the surface was now more apparent than ever before. He’d been an FBI agent, one of the best. An agent didn’t regularly handle Black Ops or deep-cover assignments by not residing at the top of the pyramid. So what if his eyes looked her up and down now with glacial hardness? It made no difference to her whatsoever, even if it did make him even more handsome than she remembered. They were no longer simpatico. The part of her that had clung to the dream of happily-ever-after had died the day he turned his back on everything good and right.

Too bad none of her arguments could change one little fact of life—Jared Romine would always be able to turn her head.

As if he hadn’t heard her questions or demands, he left his post by the door and crossed the room toward her.

“Jared. I want to go home,” she repeated when he pulled his wallet from his hip pocket and tossed it on the nightstand along with her keys.

He looked at her over his shoulder. “Sweetheart, you can’t go home. It’s too dangerous.”

The expression in his gaze rattled her. “So you’ve already said.” She struggled to come to terms with the fear banked within the depths of his eyes. Fear for her? Or for himself when they caught him?

She pulled in a shaky breath and let it out slowly. The sooner she found out what he wanted, the sooner she could return to her life. To her safe existence, where beige was an exciting color.

“What’s going on, Jared? If it’s help you want—”

“Help?” Hardness replaced the anxiety in his eyes and he gave an abrupt bark of humorless laughter. “Oh, you’d help me all right. Straight into the gas chamber.”

She shook her head. “You’re not being fair.”

He planted his hands on his hips and glared down at her. “Fair? You want fair?” His angry voice dripped with sarcasm. “How fair were you when you turned me over without even waiting to hear my side of the story?”

No, the night he’d come to her, she hadn’t given him a chance to explain. If she had, they would’ve used whatever he’d told her against him. Her arms slid from the table. She balled her hands into tight fists, then stood and returned his glare with one of her own.

“They didn’t give me a choice.” The bitter taste of betrayal hadn’t waned one iota in three years. “What did you want me to do, Jared? Risk being disbarred? Lose everything? After what they put me through, I think I paid a high enough price.”

He let out a rough sigh and reached for her. “Look, I’m sorry.”

Whether he was apologizing for being a jerk or for what her involvement with him had nearly cost her, she didn’t know, and quite frankly, she was too ticked off at being kidnapped to really give a damn. She sidestepped him and made it to the nightstand to snag her keys. “It doesn’t matter. I’m leaving. Don’t waste your breath trying to change my mind.”

“It’s too dangerous for you now.”

She faced him, anger and frustration still brewing inside her. “The way I see it, the only danger I’m in at the moment is a result of having been kidnapped by a fugitive. It’s safer for both of us if I leave and pretend tonight never happened.”

He narrowed the space between them. “It’s not going to be that easy this time, Peyton.”

The unexpected and sudden gentleness of his tone stroked her like a physical caress. Sweet, caring and way out of line. Damn Jared, and damn the memories swamping her. “It wasn’t the last time, either.”

She spun to leave, but before she took a single step toward freedom, he had her by the arm and used care to turn her around to face him. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close.

The feel of the long length of his body pressed against her was instant electricity. The urge to wreathe her arms around his neck and pull him down for a long, hot kiss overwhelmed her.

Now who’s out of line?

“Let me go, Jared.” Her nipples beaded and rasped against the lace of her bra, making a mockery of her demand.

That lopsided grin made an appearance, taking the edge off the hard angles of his face. “I remember a time when you didn’t mind so much.” The sensual darkening of his gaze matched the low, husky timbre of his velvety-smooth voice.

The insides of her thighs tingled in response, along with the first sensual tug of need pulling in her belly. “That was a long time ago. A lifetime ago.” Obviously not long enough for her body to forget that heaven could always be found with Jared.

Oh, this was bad. Real bad. She had to get away from him. The last thing she needed was to complicate this mess any further. Stirring up wicked fantasies was not an option. Or worse, caving in to the desire weaving through her body. She set her hands against his shoulders and pushed.

Instead of letting her go, he tightened his hold, urging her body even closer. The soft denim of his jeans brushed against her legs, turning the tingling between her thighs to a demanding throb. Feeling the hard ridge of his fully erect penis pressing against his fly was like laying a match to a fuse of dynamite.

“Then why does it feel like I held you this way only yesterday?”

Probably because it felt that way to her, too, but she kept the traitorous thought to herself. “Why did you bring me here?”

Why did you have to come back into my life, even for a few hours?

“Answer me, Peyton.”

She wasn’t going near that one, even if her life was in danger, as he claimed. “No. You answer my questions. You said once we were somewhere safe you’d tell me everything.”

He lifted his hand and smoothed his thumb along her lower lip. “Your mouth has haunted my dreams for far too long.”

“Jared,” she replied. Whether in protest or invitation, she couldn’t be sure. She wanted it to be protest, she really did, but the way her body was humming with anticipation, invitation was closer to the truth.

She stared, mesmerized, as he slowly dipped his head. The keys slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor. Oh, mercy, he was going to kiss her. She knew she should stop him, but somewhere deep inside, some part of her that still clung to traitorous old memories ignored the necessary protests and outrage that would quickly put an end to the resurrection of the past. Instead, the second his lips brushed hers, her eyes closed and she welcomed the pressure of his mouth on hers.

She’d expected gentle. Maybe even tentative. But what began as the tender brushing of lips quickly evolved into something deeper and hotter and wetter than she’d experienced in a very long time. The last thing she anticipated was for need and desire to tear through her, causing every possible point of pleasure to pulse and throb.

As if the last three hellish years had never existed, she clung to him and gave herself up to the insistent pounding of desire as she slid her hands over his torso, exploring familiar territory. As if undressing Jared was still second nature to her, she quickly undid his shirt and smoothed her hands along his bare skin. The enticing flex of muscle and sinew beneath her fingertips had her sighing into his mouth.

An invitation didn’t come any more engraved.

He responded by moving her backward until her bottom came in contact with the textured wall. His heat surrounded her, engulfed her, and burned slow and hot, catching her completely off guard with its intensity. As though they’d never been separated, her body responded to his with the building of pleasure so overwhelming she knew she never wanted it to end.

His tongue stroked hers in a hot, erotic dance of seduction, sending tiny little tremors of pleasure dancing beneath her skin, igniting a hot flame that seared her from the inside out. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew allowing them to continue was wrong, yet even the knowledge that she was charging down a forbidden path did nothing to stem the insistent need where she craved his touch the most. As much as her conscience screamed at her to push him away and put an end to this erotic nonsense, her heart yearned for the single moment in time where she could forget the past three years of loneliness, of longing for what could never be, of steeling herself against the hurt she’d seen in his eyes the night she’d betrayed him.

The kiss ended all too soon and he backed away from her. He shoved a hand through his hair and stared at her as if he’d never seen her before. Or maybe he was remembering another time, a time when they’d been in love.

Cool air brushed her skin, sending a chill down her spine. The desire to slip back into his arms, to feel the heat of his body pressing against hers, to reassure herself she wasn’t suffering from another dream where she’d wake up to nothing but darkness and a deep ache in her chest, stunned her. She didn’t know whether to weep with frustration or shout for joy that he was standing in front of her, holding her, kissing her, making her forget the horrendous pain after he’d run from the feds, leaving her behind to cope with the emotional and physical aftershocks from events that had spun out of control.

“That shouldn’t have happened,” he said, turning his back to her while he buttoned his shirt. “I apologize.”

She shouldn’t have let it happen, for a whole series of reasons, but she hadn’t let it stop her from enjoying every second she’d been in his arms. It was only the shock of seeing him again, of knowing he was alive. Yeah, that made sense. She’d plastered herself all over him and kissed him as if it was the most natural thing in the world, just to reassure herself he wasn’t a ghost of her imagination this time.

Now there was an argument she could never hope to sell to a jury.

“But it did happen,” she heard herself saying. “And dammit, Jared, it felt right.”

Was she insane?

Obviously.

He spun around to face her and stared in disbelief. “Right?” he said, after a half-dozen heartbeats of dead silence. He took a step toward her and snagged her left hand, lifting it until the engagement ring Leland had given her was between them. “Take a good look at that and then tell me again how right it felt.”

There wasn’t a single thing she could say in her defense, so she kept her mouth firmly shut. The absolute truth of it was she hadn’t given Leland a solitary thought when she’d been wrapped around Jared. Did that make her a bad person? Maybe. Probably. But would a jury convict her because she’d lost her head for a moment in the arms of the man who’d once touched her soul?

Without a doubt, she thought. She’d slipped. Made a mistake. Her emotions were running in high gear and she’d been momentarily rendered conscienceless. No matter how right her heart and body had felt being in Jared’s arms, she wouldn’t let something like that happen again.

She hoped.

He let go of her hand. “That’s what I thought,” he said, and moved away from her as if he couldn’t stand to be near her. He dropped into one of the vinyl chairs at the round table and leaned back, lacing his fingers together over his stomach. “So who is he?” he asked, his tone conversational, as if he was asking whether rain was expected in the forecast.

She bent to pick up the keys and set them on the nightstand before answering. “Leland Atwood.”

She returned to the table and sat across from Jared. To someone who didn’t know him as well as she did, his impassive expression just might have been believable, but there was a hardness in his eyes that belied the boredom he attempted.

“Atwood?” He laughed, but the sound held more bitterness than humor. “The pompous ass with the DOJ? He’s a good ten, twelve years older than you.”

She folded her arms over her chest and gave him a level stare. “Leland is not pompous, just conservative. He’s a federal court judge now, with the D.C. Circuit Court.”

“I don’t care if he replaced Scalia on the high court, he’s still not your type. What do you see in him?”

She really didn’t care much for Jared’s sarcasm, but considering their history, maybe it was to be expected. “He is too my type. Leland is kind, he works hard and he has a promising career ahead of him.”

“He’s a blowhard,” Jared said with a caustic laugh. “And so full of himself he can hardly fit through the door.”

“He is not.” So what if she sounded like a petulant child? This was her fiancé they were discussing, even if the entire conversation bordered on ludicrous.

A cocky grin canted his mouth. “You’ll get tired of him within a year.”

She didn’t appreciate his smirk in the least. “That just goes to show how little you know me.”

“Oh, I know you, sweetheart.” He leaned forward suddenly and reached across the space separating them to rest his hand on her knee. Her skin tingled.

“I know you like it on top,” he said in that low, husky voice normally reserved for late nights in front of the fireplace. “I know you like it hot and nasty.”

She shoved his hand away, not because she didn’t like him touching her, but she wasn’t exactly thrilled that her body responded to him when she was engaged to marry another man. “That was a long time ago. Besides, there’s more to a marriage than great sex.”

He rested his hands on his knees and gave her a smug, I-know-better look. “I’ll bet Atwood doesn’t make love to you like you need to be made love to, either. All you’ll get out of him will be a duty fuck because it’s the expected method of reproduction, not because it drives him crazy to see you go wild with desire. And not because he knows how to make you cry out with pleasure.”

She shot out of the chair and circled the bed. “You’re out of line, Jared. Way out of line. You don’t know me anymore.”

He was the second person in one day to make the same basic assessment of her fiancé. First her secretary and now Jared. Leland was a good man. He had staying power, and a strong sense of right and wrong. They didn’t come any straighter than Leland Atwood.

“Within a year he’ll have you knocked up and then you’ll be lucky to get laid until he’s deemed it’s time for the next kid. The picture of the perfect family to show off to the world while he waits for an appointment to the Supreme Court,” he continued. “And you’ll go along with it because of some misguided sense of what happiness is, but you know what? You’ll be dying inside. Little by little, the woman you were will disappear. Because Atwood, for all his drive to succeed, doesn’t know a thing about the woman you are, or have the first clue about what you need.”

She turned and looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Oh, and you do?”

That cocky grin was back for the sole purpose of setting her teeth on edge. “I never heard you complaining.”

“That’s because you were never around long enough,” she retorted.

His grin faded and she felt a small sense of satisfaction.

“What are you saying?” he asked.

“Even before you…disappeared, you weren’t around much.” Weeks, sometimes months would go by without a single word from him. While she was at work, occasionally her mind would wander and she’d always send up a little prayer that he was safe. But the nights? Oh, those were the longest, and the hardest. When she had nothing else to occupy her mind, alone in bed with nothing but the darkness surrounding her, she’d envisioned one horrific scene after another until he came home again. They lived together for nearly a year before he ran, but in that time, she could probably count the weeks they’d actually been together on two hands.

“It was my job, Peyton. You know that.”

“A job you never talked about. I knew what you did was dangerous, but you never once told me what it was you were doing when you’d be gone for weeks at a time.”

God, why were they even having this conversation? What did it matter to her what Jared did? He no longer had that kind of hold on her.

“You know I couldn’t talk about my assignments.”

“Something, Jared. Anything would have been preferable to the constant fear and worry that you were never coming home. When you did finally disappear, it was almost a relief because I knew then that you wouldn’t be back.”

He came out of the chair and walked toward her, his eyes as thunderous as his expression. “You sure as hell didn’t do anything to stop it. You invited the bastards into my own home. Our home.”

Once again, they’d come full circle and were back at square one. Anger nipped at her and she snapped, “I didn’t have a choice!”

“So you keep saying.”

She balled her hands into tight fists and kept them at her side as she stared him down. “If I’d let you explain, if you’d told me anything, anything, it would have been used against you. They were going to charge you with murder, Jared. The kind that would have had you strapped down to a table with a needle in your arm and a big burly guard pressing a large round green button. I’m sorry, but once the death penalty has been carried out, there’s no way to reverse it. And you are a prime candidate for lethal injection, based on the evidence I’ve seen.

“If I didn’t cooperate, they could have prosecuted me for harboring, or aiding and abetting. We weren’t married, we were only living together. Only a wife has the privilege of not testifying against her husband, which means you weren’t afforded that protection under the law.”

“I didn’t kill Dysert or Santiago,” he roared.

“So you keep saying,” she shouted back. “But where’s the evidence to the contrary? I’m a lawyer, Jared. A prosecutor for the United States. I know solid evidence when I see it.”

He let out a harsh breath. “You think I’m guilty.” He didn’t question, he stated.

She sighed and fought for a calm she was nowhere near feeling. After he’d disappeared, she’d striven for order so she could survive yet another nightmare in her life. In a matter of hours, his presence had shot all her efforts for the past three years straight to hell.

No surprises. What a joke.

Nothing too emotional. Calm and serene had become painful and chaotic all over again.

“I don’t know what to think.” She struggled for an even tone. “You haven’t told me anything. Nor have you told me why you brought me here.” She lifted her hand to stop him from interrupting. “You keep saying it’s dangerous for me, but how do you know that? Why would they come after me? As far as anyone knows, we haven’t seen each other since the night you took off without a trace.”

“They’re going to use you to get to me.”

“If that’s true, then what are you doing here?” she asked. “Anywhere near me should be the last place you’d want to be.”

“I know what they’re capable of,” he said. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at her. Pain flashed in his eyes and her heart twisted. “I’m here because I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

She sat beside him and reached for his hand. “It’s been three years, Jared. It doesn’t make sense that they’d bother with me now. Besides, after the first few months, the FBI finally left me alone. You didn’t fail me, Jared. You failed yourself, and the law.”

He laced his fingers with hers. “Yeah, it does make sense. This is a game I’ve played before. I failed then, but I swear to you, Peyton, I won’t fail this time.”

Something in his voice frightened her. Whether it was the cold determination or the hollow sense of dread, she couldn’t decide, but figured they both deserved equal attention. “I don’t understand.”

He turned his head to look at her. “No,” he said. “It’s not you I failed.”

Caution and dread warred inside her. Whatever he was about to tell her was big, that much she knew for certain. “Then who?”

“My wife.”