Behind Enemy Lines (11 page)

Annie peered out a side entrance of the American Embassy. The street looked harmless enough. So why couldn’t she force her feet to carry her back outside? Only after achieving the safety of her embassy had she realized how fear had been her constant shadow these past few days. She was loath to leave the embrace of American soil and venture once more into the dangers of St. George.

But Tom was waiting for her. He needed her. She had to return his beeper to him. A bead of sweat formed and rolled slowly between her shoulder blades, gathering speed and rushing down her back into oblivion. She dragged her feet forward, took a deep breath and crossed the threshold into peril.

Gavarone’s muggy heat slugged her in the gut. She stumbled, then moved doggedly onward. Although she slipped into the pedestrian traffic, Annie got an instant feeling that someone was following her.

It was probably just paranoia. But she felt as if a pair of burning eyeballs were boring into her back. She repeated Tom’s instructions over and over and prayed they would be enough.

Her steps followed, one after another, relentlessly carrying her farther and farther from the embassy and safety. A terrible certainty set in that she was going to be caught.

She had no business being out here. This attaché posting was supposed to be a cushy one in a tropical backwater with lots of sun, sand and exotic fruit drinks. Rebels and guns and arrests weren’t part of the deal. Tom and his men were depending on her, and she was going to let them down.

As a kid she’d imagined how exciting it would be to get involved in some supersecret espionage operation for her country. But this was too real. Too frightening. She’d never realized what it would be like to work without a safety net.

She wasn’t trained in an array of survival skills, nor was she ironman fit, with nerves of steel. Heck, she wasn’t even a student of warfare. Tom was prepared to operate in this kind of environment, but she wasn’t.

She’d gotten so caught up in her fantasy of being part of a wildly cool squad like Tom’s that she’d waded in way over her head. And here she was, alone and completely vulnerable, her no-kidding life on the line. She’d made a dreadful, terrible mistake.

No matter what advice Tom had given her, Annie’s hands began to shake uncontrollably. Her legs felt like Jell-O, and her insides ran like water. Despite herself, her stride lengthened and her pace quickened. After a few blocks she realized she was practically running. She slowed her pace, her breath heaving.

And then it began again, the insidious panic that spurred her to walker faster and faster until she thought she was going to explode.

Light-headed with terror, she slowed herself again.

And again.

It was an interminable nightmare, but she made her way across town without bolting completely. If someone was following her, they were letting her go to see where she led them. At least Tom would know what to do. He’d take care of whatever mess she’d gotten herself into.

She managed by a thread to hold herself together. Only the thought of Tom sustained her when her anxiety became unbearable. He was her safe port in this wild ocean of unseen dangers.

As she finally reached the street their apartment building was on, she forced herself to stop at a street market. While she picked out some fresh sea bass—the locals called it corvina—for supper, she checked for the person who’d followed her.

Over there. That man in the gray pants and white shirt. Had she seen him when she left the embassy? Or what about that man in the leather jacket? Surely it was too warm a day for a coat like that. Or maybe that elderly woman browsing at the fruitstand next door. She looked as if she was moving too nimbly for her age. Oh, God. Now what to do?

Annie’s thoughts tumbled in confusion. Should she try to lose her invisible follower now or go straight back home the way Tom had told her to? As much as she craved his protection, she dared not endanger Tom. He wasn’t healthy enough to take on anything really deadly that she might lead back to him. Now what?

Tom’s voice echoed in her head.
We need to work on this trust thing.
Trust. Tom would know what to do. He’d said to go straight back to the apartment. Well then, that’s what she’d do.

Her back tingled with imaginary knives burying themselves in her spine. Her hands still shook, but there was nothing to do about that except clench her purse tightly and hope no one noticed her white knuckles.

She hummed a song in her head and forced herself to walk to its rhythm. Every instinct begged her to run screaming for cover. But she knew without a shadow of a doubt that giving in to the impulse would get her and Tom killed. Strolling toward home was an exercise in the self-discipline of sheer terror.

How in the world did Tom do stuff like this every day? She’d have a nervous breakdown if she had to live like this. Of course, that’s why she wasn’t in the Special Forces and Tom was.

He could have this job.

So then, why in the world was she playing at it?

The answer stopped her cold in the middle of the street. Because of Tom. She was out here risking her neck for him. She wanted to impress him. It was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard of, but here she was. Incredulity rooted her in place.

A horn honked right behind her, and Annie all but jumped out of her skin. She lurched into motion and moved out of the middle of the street.

As she caught sight of the apartment building where Tom waited, her breathing quickened even more. He’d have her in sight by now. The feel of his intense blue gaze on her overwhelmed every other sensation. She was pulled toward it, drawn to Tom by a force too deep, too fundamental to ignore.

Tom’s beeper felt heavy and hot in her bra, burning against her skin. It reminded her of his blunt fingers brushing her flesh as he deposited the device between her breasts.

The beeper was perfectly still as she walked down the street. A film of sweat covered her face. As casually as she could, she wiped it away. There wasn’t even a hint of vibration from the beeper.

What if something had happened to Tom? What if the Gavronese Army had found him? Then he wouldn’t be able to signal her if she was being followed. The sensation of being watched intensified.

She was definitely being followed.

Come on, Tom. Page me. Let me know you’re up there watching and you see the tail.

Nothing.

Now what?

Did she proceed as if everything was okay, or did she assume something had happened to Tom and keep on going? What if the Gavronese Army was waiting for her in the apartment when she got there? If only she’d had more training in how to deal with situations like this.

The door to their apartment building was beside her. She stared at its yawning blackness, torn in two by doubt and paralyzing indecision.

What the heck. Tom had said to trust him. If he wasn’t good enough to evade capture while hidden away in an obscure apartment, then he surely wasn’t good enough to get her out of Gavarone alive. Better that she get arrested now while the United States still had a presence in the country.

She veered into the doorway and hurried up the three flights of steps to their apartment. Annie reached their door out of breath and knocked quietly.

A gravelly voice answered from inside in Spanish.

Annie’s stomach did a spectacular flip. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God. They’d gotten Tom. And she was next.

Her pulse exploded, and she panted in raw fear. She fumbled for the beeper’s panic button as she spun around to flee.

The door opened. An arm snaked out and grabbed her upper arm. She started to scream as the arm yanked her inside, but a brutal hand slapped over her mouth, cramming the scream back between her teeth.

The door shut behind her, and she couldn’t see a thing in the darkness. Someone had blacked out all the windows.

A powerful body pinned her facing the wall beside the door, and she struggled in animalistic terror.

“I’m an American citizen. I demand to speak to my embassy,” she managed to force out past the hand over her mouth.

She was dragged backward and strong arms wrapped around her in a fierce bear hug.

“Annie, it’s me, Tom. You’re safe. I’ve got you now.”

Thank God.

All the strength went out of her in a rush, and she sagged against him. His hand eased away from her mouth.

Tom hung on tight to Annie and rocked her close while she cried out her fear and relief. He’d always envied women their ability to let go of their emotions so freely. He was none too steady himself at the moment. He’d stood at that window waiting to see her come around the corner for what seemed like a year.

Thank goodness she was all right.

She turned in his arms and buried her nose against his chest. Her arms came up around him, holding on fiercely.

“Why didn’t you page me?” Her muffled voice sounded waterlogged.

“Because you weren’t followed.”

“Are you sure? I could swear I was.”

“I’m positive. It’s just that you were scared. The same thing happens to me all the time. You did fine.”

Her shaking subsided a bit, and she’d recovered enough to look up at him skeptically.

“What do you mean, it happens to you all the time? You have nerves of stainless steel. I bet you don’t remember what fear is.”

He grunted. “Huh. I was afraid—knees-knocking-and-nervous-sweats afraid—the whole time you were gone, Annie.”

She ducked her head against his chest once more.

He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled the fresh scent of it. His hands roamed up and down her back as he reassured himself she was unhurt. The elegant indentation of her spine drew his fingertips, and he caressed the line of her back down to the first hint of her buttocks.

She drew a short breath and molded herself even closer to him, her body giving way under the gentle pressure of his hand. Her hips flowed into his, their bodies intimately and perfectly aligned to each other. The softness of her belly complemented the hardness of his, and her breasts burned against his chest like fire.

How could he have sent her out there by herself? She was too precious to have put at risk.

Too precious?

Oh, Lord. What had he gotten himself into? The sense of impending doom that had been hanging over him ever since he woke up in the hospital moved a step closer. A giant step closer.

He backed her against the wall so his hands could continue their explorations. They ran down her slender arms and raised fine goose bumps under his palms. His fingers twined with hers, and he lifted her hands up over her head, trapping them against the wall.

Their fingers still clasped, he leaned into her, savoring the length of her body against his. He looked down at her, and she stared back at him wordlessly.

Naked desire warmed the dazed expression in her eyes.

His gaze slid lower to the pulse leaping in her throat, and lower still to the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Each breath she drew pressed her breasts against him in sensual invitation.

He ached to bury his face in the shadowed cleft of her bosom, to smell her and taste her, to lose himself in her. With one hand he reached down to stroke from her collarbone toward the subtle valley of flesh.

His fingers encountered hard plastic, almost hot to the touch. He grasped his beeper and drew it slowly from its enviable nest.

Annie’s breath wobbled, catching in a sexual way.

He pocketed the pager and let his hungry fingers return to the exposed flesh of her neck. Delicate tendons and a racing pulse danced beneath her satin skin.

She shifted, and he captured her free hand with his before she could move away. He pinned her hands overhead once more, sandwiching both of hers in the grasp of his left hand.

He leaned down, touching the base of her neck with his lips. Her pulse startled and leaped like a deer. His mouth traveled upward, pausing to sample the feminine delicacy just below her ear.

She inhaled sharply, and her head rolled back, stopped only by the wall. He pulled away momentarily to look at her radiant beauty. It lit the gloom around them, a lighthouse in the storm-tossed darkness of his world.

Her lips parted, sweet and inviting.

She didn’t have to ask him twice. He grasped her chin gently and lowered his head. His mouth closed over hers.

Annie groaned as Tom finally got around to kissing her. Stretched on a rack of agonizing anticipation, the torture of wanting him was so great she could hardly stand it. Helpless to move with her hands trapped high against the wall, she could only use her body to communicate her desire. She writhed against him, glorying in the hardness of his frame and in the way her body yielded to his.

She ached to hold him within her, to cradle his strength against her, to be safe within his embrace, to shield him with her love. All of this she poured into her kiss and into the sensual undulations of her body against his.

His response was immediate and overwhelming. One powerful arm went around her shoulders and another around her waist. He swept her up against him while they pirouetted away from the wall in a dizzying embrace.

She clung to him, her arms around his neck, supported by his broad shoulders. Their spinning kiss carried them across the room to the sofa. He guided her to the cushions, following her down, covering her in a blanket of potent male, all muscle and power.

His thigh wedged between hers, and she gave way before the pressure. An elbow on either side of her head caged her beneath him while he kissed her into mindless oblivion.

She ran her hands into his hair and pulled his head closer, deepening their kiss until she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began.

He groaned, and she relished the sound, taking it into her and holding it in her heart. In return, she wordlessly offered up her remorse and self-recrimination for almost killing this wonderful man. She poured it all into kissing him, into treasuring and cherishing him. If only she could make it up to him somehow.

Her arms tightened around him.

Tom grasped her tightly in return, and then suddenly he shifted his weight to one side.