Kidnapped Hearts (20 page)

He returned the guns to the table under
the picture of the naked woman. He was frantic with the need to stroke every
inch of her, to make sure she was okay and to have her as naked as the
painting.

Their gazes locked. He was afraid he’d
lost her. No more
being patient
. “I’m
glad you’re okay,” he whispered, stroking a finger down her cheek.

She covered his hand with hers. “I’m glad
you’re okay, too, but what happened to your face?”

“I got in the way of a pissed off
Scorpion.” Like his colleague said about his nose and the Berretta, “My
partner, Kershaw, and I took care of him.”

“A gun?”

“Knife.”

Pamela’s mouth formed an
O
. “As long as he can’t do this to you
again.” She rose on her tiptoes and kissed his bruise. The spattering of kisses
continued to his neck.

Jake tilted his head, enjoying her soft
lips against his skin. It occurred to him that when he had been on his
undercover assignment, every time he’d returned from working on the fishing
boat, Jennifer had never been concerned about bruises or scars. Now that he had
discovered that Jennifer knew the real identity of
The Warrior
, knew that she was aware that his life was in peril
whenever he walked out the front door, he couldn’t believe he considered
himself in love.

So, was he calling the unshakable feeling
for Pamela love?

Pamela moaned, and his eyes fluttered
closed. He’d think about that another day. He gently pressed his lips to hers.

The pressure of her hands on his face
urged him forward, and he slid his tongue inside her warm, lively mouth. An
uncontrolled hunger was the only way to explain the pang deep inside. His hands
surrounded her, latching on to the sides of her shirt, as his mouth demanded
all of her.

“Jake,” she breathed, her voice soft and
wanting. Music to his ears.

“What the hell?” a loud voice boomed.

They separated. An ash blond-haired man
glared at them.

 
Pamela gulped. “Steve?”

The big blond caught her in a bear hug.

That got Jake’s attention. His hard-on
deflated, and he flexed his fingers as he regarded the thorn in his side. He
was the only man not related to Pamela that she held in high regard, outside of
his brother. The one she continuously called on to protect her. Paul had said
Steve and Pamela were just good friends, had been since high school, but
watching Pamela in Steve’s arms and the closeness they shared, had him
second-guessing his brother’s judgment.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked Pamela.

“Yes,” she said, her body trembling.

Over Pamela’s shoulder, sable eyes lifted
from the body on the floor, then bored into Jake’s. The big brother
intimidation game was underway. Steve released Pamela, tossed his duffel bag to
the floor, then closed the distance between him and Jake. The menacing glare in
Steve’s expression made Jake stiffen. This man was ready for a fight. “You were
supposed to be protecting Pamela. Not fucking her.”

Pamela’s mouth fell open. She hit Steve
on the back, grabbing his arm. “Stop!”

Steve tucked his chin and scowled.
“You’re wearing his clothes?”

“It’s the only thing I had. I couldn’t
keep wearing a towel.”

Jake grimaced. Steve’s fist landed on his
jaw, blindsiding him. Jake staggered, falling against the wall, taking the
naked picture down with him.

“Stop it, Steve! People are trying to
kill me.”

“I can see.” Steve nodded his head toward
the corpse.

Her voice drifted off as Jake touched a
finger to his lip, then she continued, “I needed comfort.”

“I need clothes.” Jake stormed to his
bedroom. After dressing, he scanned the room for his Beretta. It rested on the
floor just inside the bedroom door. Pamela must have used it. Holstering it, he
opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out the gun he usually had strapped to
his ankle. On the way through the door, he grabbed extra bullets from the
dresser and met them in the hall where Pamela was tying her tennis shoes. She
still wore his shirt and shorts, the curves of her breasts visible beneath the
thin fabric. He shook his head as if it he were a wet dog, removing the image
from his mind. He had to concentrate on getting them out unscathed. “Where are
the other agents? No alarm, no agents, what’s the deal?”

“The wire to the alarm system has been
cut. I don’t know where the other agents are, but we better get out of here
before things turn bad.” Steve stretched out his hand. “We’ve got to back each
other up. Truce?”

Jake looked at Pamela, who gave a weak
smile, before extending his hand. He squared his shoulders. “Truce, but don’t
ever try that shit again. I get that you’re some sort of big brother figure to
Pamela, but if you hit me again, expect a fight.”

“Point taken.”

Jake’s chin jutted out. “How’d you know
where we were?”

“As soon as I arrived in town, an Agent
Dennis called from IA. Said something was going down, but he didn’t have all
the facts aligned with the moon yet.” Steve whirled his finger. “Or some crap
like that. He implied that you needed reinforcements, and that he didn’t trust
anyone else with Pamela.”

Jake eyed Steve. Was IA watching him? “Am
I under suspicion?”

Steve shrugged. “Don’t think so.”

One eyebrow arched while his mouth
twisted. Steve was full of shit. Intel guys were a different breed, but Steve’s
attitude was jumping around a little too much for him. Maybe his emotions were
too invested to be in this case. If he questioned Steve about it, he’d have to
point the finger at himself, too. Agent Dennis was right. No other agent beside
Steve would protect Pamela as if his next breath depended on it.

“You two take the escape route,” Steve
said. “I’ll follow shortly.”

“Escape route?” Pamela’s eyebrows lifted.

Jake tucked a gun into the back waistband
of his jeans, slipped the other into his ankle holster, and pocketed the
bullets as Steve gave her details. “Most safe houses have one. We’re in luck
with this house, since it has two. The passage in the utility room will take
you to the beach.”

“Have you used this house before, Steve?”
Pamela asked, rubbing her arms.

Jake came up behind her and rubbed his
hands up and down her cold skin.

“Nah, agents in the department know about
it. Since we never know when we’ll have to use a safe house at the last minute,
we learn the layouts when the houses become available.”

All
the agents know about the escape route
.
Jake dropped his hands. “We can’t use that exit. There’s a leak.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up.

Sssshblamm.
A
loud explosion brightened the moonlit sky.

“Crap!” Jake stared through the windows
in the front of the house as a ball of fire blazed the horizon. “It starts.”

Steve’s jaw clenched. “Crap’s right. That
was our transportation.”

Pamela gaped at him.

“Helicopter?” Jake asked.

“Yes.”

“Where’s the pilot?”

“Right here.” Steve tapped his chest.

Pamela’s mouth opened, then closed before
she said, “I didn’t know you were a pilot.”

Jake tugged Pamela toward the utility room.
“I’m sure there’s a lot you don’t know about your best friend.” He led the way
past one escape passage and into the garage. They descended the few steps until
they hit concrete. A crash from upstairs drew their attention.

“Sounds like the glass shattered in one
of the French doors,” Jake surmised.

“The-ey are in the-e ho-ou-use?” The
words stumbled out of Pamela.

“We need to move faster.” Steve pointed
at the back wall.

First to arrive, Steve jerked on the door
handle. It didn’t budge. Jake joined him. “On the count of three.”

Pamela moved closer and whispered, “One,
two, three.”

The door popped open.

Pamela peeked down the black hole. “Are
you sure no one else is there?”

Steve frowned. “It’s the best option we
have. Not many people know about this escape passage.” He dug a headlamp out of
his bag and passed it to Jake, then strapped one around his head.

“Yeah, well, you two knew about it.”

Jake lifted his chin. “Good point,” he
mumbled as he lowered himself onto the ladder inside the manhole.

“Seriously? You’re going anyway, not
knowing who’s in there?”

Jake stopped on the second rung and
braced his forearms on the floor. “Yes, we are. We may be unsure as to what is
ahead of us down there, but if we stay in the house, we have a guarantee
something will happen. Newman told me the location of this escape was built not
too long ago, so only a few agents are aware of it. There hasn’t been a
briefing.” He turned on the light and held out his hand.

“We’re wasting precious seconds,” Steve
warned.

“Let’s go,” Jake said, giving her no
choice.

She extended a leg onto the first rung of
the ladder. Cobwebs lined the area. She really didn’t want to go down there. A
loud thud echoed on the utility room door.

Pamela jumped into the hole. Jake caught
her, his hands grabbing her thighs. “Easy,” he said beside her ear.

Chapter
Sixteen

Jake’s hands slid away from her thighs,
and Pamela felt a tinge of longing. She trailed him down the ladder as Steve
closed the trap door behind him. “Go quick. I threw a cherry bomb into the
garage. It should slow them.”

Pamela had no idea what a cherry bomb
was, but Jake chuckled as he hastened his movements.

They neared the bottom of the ladder. A
thick string brushed her nose, and she tried to move it. The sticky substance
clung to her hand.

Cobwebs
.
Terrific
.

She brushed the web onto her shorts.

The ladder ended four feet from the
bottom. Jake jumped. The squish of his shoes told Pamela he sank in mud. Yuck,
her tennis shoes wouldn’t be able to hold up.

“Jump. I’ll catch you,” Jake said as she
reached the last rung, his light illuminating the area.

Jake catching her wasn’t the problem, the
mud was. Not that she should be concerned about the mud when evil men were
trying to kill her, but creepy crawlers lived in moist, warm areas.

“Hurry up! That house is about to blow,”
Steve said above her.

She laughed. “Did you throw a cherry bomb
in there, too?”

“A cherry bomb won’t blow up a house,”
Steve explained.

Pamela stared at him, eyes widening. That
meant the bad guys planted a bomb in the house. She dropped straight into
Jake’s arms.

“Whoa.” Jake caught her, squeezing her to
his body for a second. “I hate to do this, but the passage is too small for me
to carry you.”

He lowered her until her feet touched the
ground. The warm, squishy mud slid into her shoes, making her shudder.

“Come on.” Jake grabbed her hand and fled
down the narrow tunnel.

“You’d think they’d make a better escape
path.”

“It’s not for luxury, Pamela.” Steve’s
voice suggested that he didn’t want any talking. She squeezed Jake’s hand,
thankful he wasn’t giving her grief.

They moved quickly in silence, their feet
hitting the mud at a rhythmic pace. It felt as if the tunnel went on forever.
Jake’s light flashed on a black, hairy spider. She stiffened, and his hand
tightened. She was getting used to him reassuring her.

They ran down another short walkway and
turned the corner.

Pamela squealed. Something ran across her
feet. Jake and Steve aimed their headlamps toward the ground. A rat scurried
nearby.

“Don’t look at anything, but my back,”
Jake said, tightening his grip on her hand again.

“O-okay, but it touched me.”

“We’re almost there,” Jake said.

How
could he tell?
The tunnel was totally dark except for
the guys’ lights. “It must be an FBI thing,” she panted.

Jake laughed, as if he hadn’t been
running forever. “Yeah, it is. Look to your right.” Pamela glanced up at the
large letters illuminated by his headlamp written on the dirt wall.
You’re almost there
. “Very funny.”

“Hey, I didn’t leave the message.”

He stopped abruptly, with her ramming
into his back.

Steve had brakes, so he stopped a few
inches behind.

“Let’s get this door open,” Steve
demanded.

His voice didn’t sound tired either. The
only one breathing hard from running in the mud was Pamela.

Jake leaned his shoulder on the door.
When it didn’t move, Steve switched places with Pamela, putting her in the back
of the group with no protection from the rodents or insects.
Hurry
.