“You look like a high school librarian,” he said, sensing that saying she really resembled a first grade teacher would not earn him any points. “Not a killer. Anyone with a brain could see you don’t have the stomach to kill.” He shot her a look. “Which makes me wonder why you held a gun on me if you’re so afraid of them. Did you really plan on killing me if I didn’t cooperate?”
“Of course not,” she huffed with a feminine toss of her head that sent thick, curling ribbons of hair spilling out of her ponytail.
He could not believe he was getting hard because of this messy woman. Yet he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a strong,
honest
reaction to a woman.
“I just wanted to scare you into talking to me,” she added.
Mark beeped his navy blue BMW unlocked and shoved her into the passenger seat. As he slid behind the wheel, the restaurant door opened. “Duck down,” Mark ordered.
“What? Why?” She twisted in her seat to look out the back window.
Infuriating woman. He pushed on her shoulder to lower her head below the windows just as one of Jamieson’s guards looked their way.
“Stay down or Jamieson’s men will get a good look at you and you’ll be on their kill list.” Mark accelerated slowly out of the parking lot as if he hadn’t noticed the group of men at the restaurant door.
The woman made a sound of frustration, but scooted down until she was tucked under the dashboard. “Kill list? Why? I haven’t made any threat against Jamieson, so why would they want me dead?”
Only when he’d driven two blocks with no sign of being followed did he bother to answer her question. “They’re loyal to Jamieson and he’s very paranoid. Plus, he doesn’t entirely trust me right now. Anyone seen with me will be considered either a potential threat or a potential lever to get me to behave. And no one who knows me would ever think you’d matter enough to be leverage.”
After a heavy silence, during which he wondered if he’d managed to insult the woman, she asked, “Can I sit up now?”
He checked their surroundings. This nearly deserted street would soon dead end into the beach access road. Per his earlier reconnaissance, there were several wooded stretches along the beach where he could pull over. Since the two other cars on the road were headed in the opposite direction, Mark told his passenger, “Yes, you can sit up.”
The woman scrambled into the seat. Mark forced himself to look away as her clothing pulled tight. But when her arm accidentally brushed against his shoulder, a sexual jolt shot straight to his groin.
“So. Are you CIA, too?” she asked.
He considered lying to her, but didn’t see the point. “Yes. Jamieson is my boss.”
Her face paled and for a second he thought she was going to try and jump out of the car. But then she squared her shoulders and settled against the seat back.
Mark wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her that he was one of the good guys and would protect her from Jamieson. But the truth was that he’d been skirting the line between right and wrong for a very long time without concern for anything but achieving his revenge. His urge to keep this woman safe threatened that mission.
He didn’t understand this new side of himself and he certainly did not like being guided by emotion rather than reason.
“So, if Jamieson is your boss, why doesn’t he trust you?”
“Because he ordered my father killed.” Even after ten days, Mark was still reeling from that discovery. He’d thought he’d killed everyone involved in the kidnapping and torture that led to his father’s death. But then he’d seen his father’s good luck charm, a tiny, bronze, Etruscan horse, on Jamieson’s desk. And he’d known he’d been played. Jamieson had ordered his father’s death.
“Jamieson doesn’t know if I’ve figured it out yet and am secretly working against him,” Mark continued, “which I am, or if I’m clueless and really as loyal an employee as I’ve led him to believe.”
The woman didn’t answer, but Mark felt her eyes on him. Weighing his statement. Probably debating whether or not she could believe him.
For the first time in a very long while, it mattered that someone believe in him. A dangerous thought, particularly since he should be solely focused on determining if she could be used as a tool in his fight against Jamieson. Instead, he wanted her trust for entirely personal reasons.
Fool.
After checking again to make certain Jamieson’s bodyguards hadn’t followed them, Mark turned the car onto the beach access road. There was a secluded picnic area not far from here that would allow them to talk without the car being spotted.
And it was a perfect place to make out.
Enough with the sex thoughts!
Mark resisted the urge to check his image in the rearview mirror to see if he had an unexplained lump on his head. Something was causing his libido to go crazy and he was damned if he accepted that this odd woman had such power over him. But his reflection showed no contusions or other abnormalities. Leaving him only one conclusion regarding his strange behavior.
I must be losing my mind.
Chapter Three
F
aith’s stomach did a nervous little flip-flop when the elegant, mysterious man pulled the car onto a sandy road that curved out of view into a stand of pines. Oddly enough, her gut told her she was safe with him. And while she might not have been honing her instincts lately by reporting from the war-torn countries of the world, dealing with teenagers kept her truth-and-danger-meter in prime condition.
This sexy, arrogant man definitely seemed more annoyed by her than angry. Hell, he’d even said he wanted to protect her. He’d obviously assumed that because her hand shook when she’d held the gun she wasn’t used to violence. The truth was the opposite. Her assignments overseas had toughened her to the point that it had been routine for her to carry a knife or gun on her person even when running to the grocery.
But if appearing weak and helpless got this man to tell her what she wanted, good. She’d just ignore the traitorous heat spiraling in her belly from his presence. And she’d pretend she didn’t notice how the scent of his rich, musky cologne filled the car, making her skin heat as if he were touching her instead of sitting a foot away.
She’d also ignore how his dark hair lay in hair-sprayed perfection, making her want nothing more than to separate the thick strands with her fingers, messing his hair up and marking him as hers.
Whoa. What?
He was one of the bad guys. Maybe not quite as bad as Wayne Jamieson, true. She couldn’t imagine Jamieson saying he wanted to protect her. If the ruthless CIA director learned she’d been following him, he’d swat her away like an annoying fly and order his bodyguard to kill her. But even if this man seemed less dangerous, she had absolutely no business picturing herself acting on this crazy attraction.
He was her best lead for finding her missing brother. That was all that mattered.
And yet…when he stopped the car her stupid heart fluttered in anticipation, nervous as a teenager on a date with her hot crush.
But he didn’t turn his body toward her or reach for her hand. Instead, he flicked her a glance she couldn’t interpret, then stared out the windshield. She bit her lip, swallowing disappointment and calling herself a fool for wanting attention from this man when, for more years than she could count, she hadn’t wanted the bother of dealing with a relationship.
“How did you come to be outside that restaurant?” he demanded. “Who were you following?”
“Not you,” she reassured him, sensing that his ego wouldn’t accept any other answer. Luckily, she was telling the truth. “I followed Jamieson. The one who’s in charge of Kerberos.”
His head jerked toward her. Even in the dimly lit interior of the car she saw his eyes flash with alarm, then fury. “How did you hear about Kerberos?”
There was danger in his tone. Maybe even death. But nothing was going to stop her from finding her brother.
The man’s eyes bored into her, reminding her that he was waiting for an answer. She frowned. This wasn’t how the evening was supposed to turn out. The plan had been for her to question him. Not the other way around.
Suddenly it didn’t seem such a good idea to be sitting here in the dark with this stranger. He was one of Jamieson’s colleagues. True, this was the first time she’d seen him with Jamieson, but that didn’t make him innocent. After all, she’d only been following Jamieson for a few days, so she didn’t know how close the two men were. For all she knew, once the stranger finished questioning her, he’d kill her.
Panicked, she grabbed for the door handle.
The man exhaled, the sound one of patience reaching its end. “Stop trying to run away and just tell me what’s going on. I am
not
going to hurt you.”
“Right. You’re going to protect me,” she shot back, letting sarcasm drip from her words. Yet her hand stilled on the door handle.
His eyes narrowed, but to her surprise he didn’t deny it. Which for some reason caused her heart to flutter.
And whether it was her libido talking, or some other part of her, a little voice pointed out that regardless of whether she could fully trust him or not, she had little choice but to cooperate. She needed answers. Toby had already been missing for nearly five weeks. She didn’t believe in psychic visions, but for the past couple of days her dreams had been full of blood, death and a driving sense of urgency. Each morning she awoke exhausted and filled with dread.
Wherever Toby had disappeared to, she need to find him. Fast.
“Woman, I don’t have all night. Will you
please
answer my question? Where did you hear the name Kerberos?”
“My name isn’t woman,” she grumbled, even though for some strange reason hearing this man call her woman turned her on. “It’s Faith. Faith Andrews. Who are you?”
He hesitated, but not with recognition of her name. Good. Instead she suspected he was trying to decide if he wanted to tell her the truth or not. “
Hey mister
has a nice ring to it,” she offered.
His eyebrows lifted in astonishment. Okay, yeah. This wasn’t exactly the type of situation that invited teasing. But she often resorted to humor when she was nervous. Or in danger.
“Mark,” he finally admitted. “My name is Mark…Tonelli.”
She opened her mouth to say something smart alecky, but a slight hardening of his expression had her biting her tongue.
“Kerberos?” he prompted.
Faith sighed. Was she really going to confide in a total stranger? Why? Because he claimed to be working against Jamieson? Because he used the word please and hadn’t hurt her, or even been angry with her for holding a gun on him? Because he was the sexiest man she’d met in months?
No. Because I’m desperate and if there’s even the slightest chance he can help me, I have to take it.
“Okay, Mark. Before I tell you anything, I want your promise that after I’m done you’ll answer my questions.”
He studied her for so long, her cheeks grew warm under his scrutiny. What did he see? Did he find her attractive? Think her a fool? She clenched her teeth and reminded herself again that it didn’t matter what he thought, as long as he gave her the answers to help her save Toby. Still, she wished they had met when she wasn’t wearing a wig and colored contacts.
Just when she thought he wasn’t going to answer, he gave a curt nod.
“Okay.” She turned and stared out the windshield at the moonlight shimmering on the incoming waves. “My brother Toby is with military intelligence,” she began. “A couple of months ago, he started an assignment that kept him more out of touch than usual. He’d warned me of this ahead of time and promised to check in every two weeks to our secure email account. When he missed two check-ins in a row, I started to worry.”
She plucked at the hem of her sweater. “Then I received a package in the mail. From Toby. With a letter, a bunch of handwritten and typed notes, and two flash drives. In the letter, he explained that he’d instructed the lawyer to send the package out if he hadn’t checked in for four weeks.”
Faith shivered, despite her thick sweater. She hated thinking about her brother being in pain. Tortured.
“The flash drives held all the details of his investigation into missing military and law enforcement personnel. He’d traced several of the men back to an organization called Kerberos. And he pointed to Wayne Jamieson at the CIA as the head of Kerberos.”
Mark didn’t say a word, but she felt his increased tension.
“Toby had been closing in on Jamieson before he disappeared. In his notes were details on the man’s schedule, where his office was located, his home address, everything I needed to start following him.”
Mark snorted in disbelief. “Right.”
She raised her brows. “Looks can be deceiving, as I’m sure you know.” At first glance, Mark could be a model out of
Town and Country
. Only once you moved close enough to see the hard look in his eyes would you understand he was a tough, dangerous man.
“I used to be a damn good investigative journalist,” she said. “Our team even won a Pulitzer.” Not that they’d been after the prize during their investigation. No, all they’d wanted was to expose the truth. But mentioning the award did have a way of garnering instant respect.
“I know how to gather information without being discovered,” she continued. “Jamieson isn’t the first highly guarded target I’ve followed. I make sure that when his bodyguards do spot me, they see a completely harmless woman.”
“Now that I can believe,” Mark muttered.
“Yes, you’ve already expressed how threatening you find me.” She’d often used her appearance to put people off guard. Her curly blonde hair, short and curvy stature, and big blue eyes often lulled subjects into thinking she was a ditzy blonde. Only later, when her story ran, did they realize they’d given away more than they’d intended.
However, in the eighteen months since she’d given up her career, she’d made an effort to be a strong role model for the female high school and college girls she taught. To her surprise, it annoyed her that Mark had bought into the ditzy female routine, even though that had been her goal. Her pride wanted him to recognize her intelligence. See her more as an equal than a person to be ignored.