Dangerous Secrets (36 page)

‶
Let go of me.″ She pushed
back, needing space and air. He surprised her by being there, but being
shackled to his body was too close for comfort. This was another reason she
needed to get away from him. She wasn′t the same woman when he was close,
and she couldn′t drag him into the mess she′d made of her own life.
Even if he was better trained than she was.

Even if he could save her life. She could get
him killed and she wasn′t willing to let that happen.

She might have known he′d take the stairs
instead of the elevator. Didn′t everything about him tell her he′d
take the stairs even if it was thirty flights? His body was muscular and hard.
She′d been pressed against it more than once and she knew the contours of
his chest and arms.

‶
I′m getting out of
here,″ she hissed, more angry with her own reactions than with his
unannounced presence.

‶
So you can get killed?″

‶
I won′t get killed.
I′ve been on my own forever,″ she threw at him.
‶
In
the first place, my plan didn′t include you. So leave me alone. I
don′t need you. Whatever I have to do I can do without your help.″

Jack stared at her without a word. It went on
long enough to make Morgan uncomfortable. Suddenly he hauled the door open and pulled
her through it. In seconds they were back in the hotel room staring each other
down like two gunfighters in the middle of town at high noon.

‶
Prove it,″ Jack
challenged, anger so tightly wound he felt he′d snap any second now. She
blinked, confused by the question.
‶
Prove you don′t need me
around and I′m out of here.″ Jack grabbed her wrists. She gasped
and he nearly let go.
‶
I haven′t done a tenth of what I can, but you
don′t need me. Show me how you don′t need me.″ He noticed the
way her breasts rose and fell under the light fabric.

Morgan stepped forward, pushing her hips
against him. Her mouth clamped on his. He didn′t pull away. Her tongue
dove into his mouth. She used her mouth as the only weapon available to her.
Moving her head, she repositioned her mouth, taking more of him as he joined
her in the kiss. Her hips rubbed suggestively against his lower body. She could
feel his arousal. She raised one leg, wrapping it around one of his and
shifting up and down, feeling the heat and the hardened bulge in his pants. As
expected he released her wrists. She felt his arms circle her waist and begin
to pull her closer. At that moment she jerked her leg and pulled him off
balance. Together they went down. At the same moment they hit the floor Morgan
rolled away. With the speed of lightning she grabbed his arm and twisted it
behind him in a way that forced immobility.

She looked at him for a few seconds, breathing
hard.
‶
This
is what I could do to get out of that,″ she said. Holding his arm only
long enough to make her point, she dropped it and went to her bedroom.

Jack collapsed with the slamming of the bedroom
door. In all his years no one,
no one
had
ever gotten to him the way she did. And a woman! He didn′t mean to
belittle women. They could be as tough as men. He′d run up against his
share of them. This one he should be able to overpower with a nod, and
she′d taken him down, reduced him to nothing more than a weak mass of
need. And she′d been so cool about it. So calculating. Unemotional.

Damn, he cursed, she was getting to him.

***

Morgan opened the door to the bedroom half an
hour later. Her face was clean of makeup and her hair was loose about her
shoulders. She′d brushed it straight. It fell to her shoulders then
curved slightly upward on the ends. A tease, Jack thought. He wondered if
she′d done that to entice him. If so, it worked. He wanted to slip his
hands in the soft mass, bring it to his nose and inhale the clean flowery smell
of her shampoo. And he didn′t want to stop there.

Jack planned to leave as soon as it was dark.
Morgan had foiled his plans more than once, but today she′d proved he
couldn′t leave her alone, he couldn′t trust her not to get herself
killed. It would be better if he could. He′d like to walk away. He′d
like to forget everything and just go, but he couldn′t. It wasn′t
in him. Maybe the idea of quitting wasn′t part of his future. He
hadn′t started out to find trouble, but it had found him and there was no
way he could leave Morgan to fend for herself. No matter how much she thought
she could handle it.

Or how much she set off his hormones.

He needed to call Forrest Washington and find
out what, if anything, had turned up. When he ditched the car he hadn′t
had time. He thought he needed to get back to the hotel and as it turned out,
he did. He even ordered room service so he wouldn′t have to leave the
woman he was now sworn to protect.

‶
I′m sorry,″ she
said, standing in the doorway.
‶
That was unfair of me. I should never have done
it.″

‶
It was effective,″ Jack
said.

‶
It′s not like I do this
all the time,″ she replied angrily.

Before Jack could answer, there was a knock on
the door.

‶
Room service,″ he
explained as he went to it. He put his hand on his pistol and looked through
the peephole. He opened the door and the waiter set up the food on the dual
desk-table. It was small and they would have to sit close if they were to eat
together. Jack paid the waiter in cash and moments later they sat across from
each other.

‶
Do you trust me enough to tell
me the truth?″

‶
I have told you the truth.″
Her voice was a little higher than usual but she controlled it.
‶
I
don′t know anything more.″

‶
What about Korea? What happened
there?″

Morgan stuffed a small red potato in her mouth
and chewed. She didn′t look at him, yet Jack stared at her as he waited.
She took her time. She wanted to tell him. He could almost taste it. She wanted
someone she could talk to, tell about that night.

Jack had been there. He knew some of what she
could tell him, but not all. He didn′t have a clue why someone would wait
twelve years to come after her. He wouldn′t rush her, wouldn′t push
her into doing or saying anything. She would tell him. He knew ways to get her
to talk. He could force her to tell him what he wanted to know, but he wanted
her to tell him on her own. He wanted her to want his help. He wanted her to
need him. He knew she would do it, but she would only trust him in her own
time.

‶
I won a gold medal,″ she
finally said.

***

Jack linked his fingers and rested his forehead
against them. Morgan had disappeared into the bedroom right after she ate. He
could hear the water running in the shower. There was no window in the bathroom
and they were on the ninth floor. There was a window in the bedroom, but he
didn′t think she′d want to die scaling the side of the building
trying to get away from him. This was not the prison. There was no ledge, no
intricate ironwork for her to grab hold of. Between her room and the ground was
only the brick face of the building, no place to get a foothold for anything
greater than a spider, and while she might be able to dismount from a beam and
stick to the floor, she wouldn′t be able to use any of those skills from
this location. The door was her only means of escape and she′d have to
pass him to reach it.

What was he going to do? Short of tying her to
the bed, he needed her cooperation. In order to save her life, he needed her to
want his help. Why wouldn′t she? She couldn′t still think he meant
to harm her. He could never do anything like that.

Jack knew ways to get information. He was adept
at torture. He could pry anything out of anyone. He knew ways to make a man
talk, cry, beg, call for his God, his king, even his mother, but Morgan he
couldn′t touch, couldn′t reach. She was too smart not to understand
the danger she was in. If he left her, she′d be dead before the sun set.
She was good. He gave her credit for planning and executing the plan, but he
didn′t know how she would act on the spot. Could she use what was
available? Did she understand how people thought, acted, their natural
instincts? He didn′t know and he wasn′t willing to test it with her
life. She would have to put up with him, like it or not.

Why was she as tight-lipped as a lobster claw
clamped on a finger? There had to be a reason, something important, something
she was protecting more than her own life. Jack wondered what it could be. He
knew everything about her. Things the CIA didn′t know he knew. He′d
seen her file, read it completely and remembered every detail. There was no one
she′d ever had a lasting relationship with and no unaccounted-for time
periods. But Morgan was proving a master at many crafts. Deception could be one
of them. There could be pieces missing from a written report. Something that
wasn′t in her file. It had been twelve years since she moved to Missouri.
What could it be? Jack stopped. What or
who?

Then the thought hit him. He needed to ask her
a question and he needed the element of surprise. Jack wanted to be sure he saw
her reaction before she had time to conceal it. Seconds if he was lucky.

Leaving the area that connected the two
bedrooms, Jack went through the opening and straight to the bathroom. The water
could no longer be heard falling into the tub. Jack didn′t care if she
was in the tub or standing naked in front of it. He opened the door. Morgan
stood there, her body wrapped in a fluffy white towel. Jack didn′t give
himself time to think. He went through the mist and stood in front of her. He
thought to grab her arms, but didn′t want to touch her. He wanted an
answer and he didn′t know what he′d say or do if he touched that
smooth, wet skin.

‶
Do you have a child?″ he
demanded.

‶
Sure,″ she said without
the slightest hesitation.
‶
Triplets.″

It told Jack nothing. Her eyes hadn′t
changed in that instant, but then she looked down. A moment later she turned to
leave. His hands came out to detain her. She pushed at his arms. Instinct made
him resist.

‶
Let go of me,″ she said,
not bothering to conceal the anger in her voice.

He didn′t.

‶
Just who do you think you are,
anyway?″

‶
You want to know who I am?
I′m your worst nightmare, Morgan Kirkwood. I′m that bad boy
you′ve been warned about. The one with the leather jacket and bulging
muscles. The one whose jeans are too tight, who wears T-shirts with cigarettes
rolled up in the short sleeve of one arm, the one who′s comfortable on
any street corner and can deal with the crap no matter what it is. I know where
the drugs are sold, have been sold and are going to be sold. Hell, I may have
even used a few. Anything you want, I can get it. If you need medicine in the
middle of the night or want someone knocked off, I′m your man.″ He
hit himself in the chest.

‶
I′m no valley
girl,″ she countered.
‶
I could have any bad boy I wanted, any good guy
too.″

‶
But the good ones don′t
fascinate you. And I fascinate you, don′t I, Morgan? I make your mouth
dry when you see me. Your body tingles and gets tight in all the right places.
Life flows between your legs and your body goes all hot, but you like it,
don′t you? You like that feeling. It tells you you′re alive. You want
me, want me to touch you.″

He took her chin in his hand.
‶
Like
you did that other bad boy. It′s there, Morgan. It shows in your face, in
the slant of your body. You wanted him, just like you want me. You might have
put on airs, denied it to your friends, but you wanted him. You wanted to be
pushed up against the lockers and kissed. You wanted all your giggling
girlfriends to see it, so you could reign supreme in that small universe. But
if he says anything to you, if I say anything, you use that razor-sharp tongue
of yours to cut me to shreds, put me in my place, while all along, all I need
to do is stand close to you, breathe the same air, let you smell the danger in
me and you′ll melt like a soft marshmallow.″

Jack took her mouth then without resistance. He
pulled her against him, unmindful of the damp towel that separated him from her
hot skin. She was soft and smelted of soap and hot water and something that
could only be defined as her own personal perfume. The combination of it sent
his senses reeling and his purpose with it. He knew in seconds he
shouldn′t have touched her. He′d kick himself later, but now his
arms encircled her and she moved her arms around his neck. Her body was soft
and warm and it seemed to wrap around his with precision.

Jack was supposed to teach her a lesson. He was
supposed to maintain control, but it snapped within microseconds of her action.
It had been years, twelve long years, since he′d held her in his arms,
since he′d kissed her, twelve years of dreaming and waking to find
himself holding empty air. He wouldn′t forgo the pleasure now. It was
more than pleasure. It was paradise. She was real, alive and in his arms. Her
mouth was hot and her body was soft in places he′d forgotten existed.
Jack was lost and he didn′t care. His tongue swept past her lips to taste
her, devour her, drink her in as surely as if she were a twelve-year-old
vintage. He wanted her badly and his mouth told her that, savagely taking what
she had to give. He crushed her to him, lifting her off the floor and pushing
her against the wall, driving his body into hers.

It wasn′t enough. He wanted to make love
to her. He wanted to lose himself in her warmth, tearing the towel away from
her and gazing on the golden glint that covered her skin from neck to toe. He
wanted them safe in bed and he wanted to make every one of her dreams a
possibility, each of her fantasies a reality. With her this close, with him
inhaling the soft perfume of her skin, he knew everything he′d dreamed
could come true. He understood fantasies and he was intimately acquainted with
reality. What he held in his arms was real. She was heaven or at least as close
to it as he′d ever come.