No Turning Back (8 page)

“Hand it over.”

Careful to move slowly in case he suspected she had a weapon of some kind, she dug it out of her pocket and put it in his broad palm, the brief contact shooting sparks of heat up her arm. She snatched her hand back, hating the fact her body didn't pick up on the cold front it had walked in on.

Ben seemed remote, but she sensed something seething beneath his composed exterior. Whatever was going on in his head, he had to have something more on his mind than her disappearance.

“You seem upset,” she ventured, not knowing what to make of it. If anyone should be upset, shouldn't it be her?

An awful silence met her words. It expanded until it filled the room and pressed in on her.

“Upset?” he said finally, then shrugged. “I'm not upset. I'm just trying to figure out why you'd fall off the face of the earth
exactly
when bad shit started happening.”

She licked her lips, not liking what he was inferring. Something else must have happened that she didn't know about. “I don't know what I can say that will make you believe me,” she began, stomach squeezing tighter when he didn't even glance at her. Despair filled her. “I called you because I need your help.”

He set her BlackBerry on the side table next to him and regarded her dispassionately. “That's nice.”

His remote expression jangled her nerves. What had happened to make him look at her like that?

“You want me to trust you, Sam?”

She frowned. “Of course I do.”

“You're a bright girl, so I'm sure you can understand why that's not going to happen. But if you want to try to earn my trust, I'm game.” He tilted his dark head, pale eyes glittering a challenge in the lamp light. “You can start by taking off all your clothes.”

Ben barely withheld his cynical smile at the shock in her wide mahogany eyes. Her mouth opened and closed, like she was trying to come up with an argument and couldn't find the words. Other than that she didn't move. Not even a blink.

He hadn't intended to go this route, but the whole innocent routine with the big doe eyes and trembling lower lip pissed him off. Did she think he was stupid? That just because he'd worked with her and she knew his brother he'd jump to her defense after all the suspicious things that had happened in her absence? No way. He couldn't risk more lives. If she proved her innocence, he'd apologize for treating her like a dirty agent later. But for now, that's the way he was going to play it. Hurt feelings could be fixed. Dead people couldn't.

Sam's throat bobbed as she swallowed. “W-what?”

“You heard me. Your clothes. Off. Now. Or did you want me to do it for you?”

Her arms came up to shield her breasts in an inherently feminine move of protection. Her face remained frozen in the dimness. She took a halting step backward, then glanced toward the door behind her.

Don't even think about it, sweetheart.

Her gaze traveled to the double bed against the opposite wall before darting back to him. The color drained out of her face. The sudden peak in her fear ate at him.

He snorted, insulted. “You think I brought you here so I could use sexual interrogation techniques or some shit?”

She blinked at him, wary as a deer confronting a hunter.

Well, shit, wasn't that a kick in the ass? “Come on, Sam. You contact me out of the blue from God knows where and ask for my help. Well, here I am. But I'm not promising you a goddamn thing until I know for sure you're not carrying a wire and I find out what the hell you've been up to the last week.” When she hesitated, he pushed. “Don't want to play by my rules? That's fine. Say the word, sweetheart, and I'm outta here.” He started to get up.

“I... but— All of them?”

He smiled thinly and sat back down. “Every last piece.”

Her mouth tightened.

“I'm sure you can figure out why I'd want to confirm you aren't bugged or wired, since you design shit like that for a living. For all I know, you've been taken captive and sent here by the bad guys to trap me.”

“That's not— ”

Ben lost his patience. “Off. Now.”

Even in the poor lighting he could tell she was blushing, but he didn't care. He needed to know if someone else was listening to their conversation before he got down to business. She must have decided he was her only hope, because she bent down and unlaced her boots, took them and her socks off.

“Kick them over to me,” he instructed. When she did, he searched for any signs of a wire or tracking device. The soles of her boots were still intact, the lining solid. So far, so good. Looking up at her nervous face, he motioned for her to continue. She removed her headscarf, exposing harshly dyed raven hair that completely washed her out. It didn't suit her at all, but at least she'd known to change her appearance. Next came the robe that swallowed her frame. She lifted it over her head and let it fall to the floor, leaving her in a t-shirt and cargo pants that hugged every luscious curve of her body. He made himself sit stock still in the uncomfortable chair while she grasped the hem of her snug shirt and started to peel it over her head.

She stopped and met his gaze, as if waiting for him to say he'd changed his mind. Ben cocked a brow and waited. When she dropped her eyes, her fingers weren't quite steady as she worked the garment up, exposing the pale skin of her flat stomach and then higher over her full breasts encased in a black lace push-up bra. His thighs tightened as he struggled not to react to the sight of her. Man, he'd always thought she was good looking, but who'd have guessed she had a body like that under the robe she had to wear every day?

Sam tossed the robe and shirt to him and he caught them in one fist, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of her standing there in her pants and bra.

Focus, asshole
. He switched his attention to the seams of the garments for an instant, then looked back at her. Her expression wasn't fearful anymore. Now her eyes snapped with resentment. For whatever reason, the rare show of temper made him go rock hard in his jeans. He quickly laid the shirt on his lap. With luck, it would hide the evidence that he liked what he saw a helluva lot more than he wanted to.

“Pants, too.” She wasn't wearing any jewelry, so that was one less thing for him to worry about checking.

Sam's elegant fingers moved to the button on her fly and undid it, then slid the zipper down. He shifted in his chair. Knowing her obsession with order, he'd bet anything her underwear would match her bra, and his brain immediately formed a picture of her standing in a pair of lace black panties. The room felt hotter all of a sudden, though the AC was blowing down from the wall above him.

Sam set her jaw and shimmied out of the cargo pants, letting them fall to her ankles until she could kick it to him. Oh yeah, her black thong definitely matched her bra. And her legs were incredibly lean and toned. She was lusciously sensual standing there before him in the dim light.

Her mouth was tight as she glared at him. “Satisfied?”

Ben looked up from the pants he'd been examining and met her angry gaze. “Not yet. Getting there, though.” He came out of the chair and she faltered. Fear crept back into her eyes and her posture stiffened in alarm. Her arms came up to shield her breasts again. He stopped inches from where her bare toes curled into the carpet, the nails painted a delicate pink.

Up close he caught the light spicy scent of her perfume and noticed the rapid tremor in her body. She smelled amazing, even after living on the run for the past week. He stomped down the sexual impulse he felt.
So
not the time or place for that. Her breathing seemed shallow, but the uncertainty in her eyes told him it wasn't from arousal. She was afraid. Of him.

He hesitated because his conscience was giving him grief. How far should he push this? The chances of her hiding something in her underwear were pretty slim, but... Seeing her frightened and helpless before him, he didn't have the heart to make her strip it all off. Slim though it was, the possibility still existed that she was innocent, and if that was true, she'd been through more than enough already. “Look at me.”

Sam started at the command. Swallowing once, she lifted her gaze. Her eyes were full of trepidation, but at least they weren't wet with tears. Tough as he was, Ben wouldn't have been able to take that. He might be king of the smart-ass remark and have a reputation for possessing a quick temper, but terrorizing a woman went against his code of conduct. While he was paranoid enough to want to frisk the remaining garments, his overriding sense of morality crushed that idea. Humiliating her when he was almost certain she wasn't carrying a wire was a little extreme, even under these bizarre circumstances. He decided to offer her a workable compromise.

“Swear to me, on your cousin's life, that you don't have anything hidden on you right now,” he said, keeping his voice low and calm.

“I swear I don't.” The melting brown depths of her eyes showed surprise that he hadn't demanded she strip completely, but still held uncertainty.

Yeah, he was such a righteous dude. He had to hope leaving her in her pretty underwear wouldn't get him and the rest of his team killed.

He stepped back, turning his body so she could get past without touching him and jerked his chin toward the pile of clothing he'd dumped on the floor. “Get dressed. Then we'll talk.”

Her sigh of relief made him feel like a lecher. Had she really thought he'd force her sexually? He hated the thought that she might have, even as he knew it was for the best she was wary of him. Keeping his eyes off her gorgeously curved figure wasn't easy, but he figured he owed her a little privacy while she got dressed. The whisper of cotton as she pulled her clothes back on made him think of every beautiful naked inch of skin he'd seen.

Ben clenched his jaw. Sexual attraction was the last thing he needed to feel right now where she was concerned. He needed to be remote, clear headed. Detached. Like his twin. Damn, why hadn't Rhys been assigned to do this?

At Sam's soft footfalls behind him, he turned around and met her shadowed gaze.

“Okay,” she said, appearing more composed. “Can we talk now?”

Sam's heart was still pounding, but she felt much more in control as she faced him. For a minute there, she'd been sure she was going to have to do the full monty in front of him, but he'd eased off at the last moment. When he'd come up close, the sheer size of him had made her want to shrink away because he'd loomed over her like a giant, shadowy menace. Then she'd smelled the cinnamon gum he always chewed and felt strangely calm.

This is Ben,
some inner voice had said
. He won't hurt you
. And he hadn't. While she'd been standing there in her skivvies, she even thought she'd detected a hint of desire in his light green eyes before he'd masked it. Her own body had answered that flicker of male interest with a quick rush of heat prickling over her skin. It shamed her that she could feel attracted to him under the circumstances, but she couldn't deny her reaction. She hoped he hadn't noticed, since it would only make her more vulnerable to him. She didn't know him well enough in this capacity to be sure he wouldn't exploit the weakness, but she intended to find out why he was treating her like a criminal.

Ben cocked his head and folded his muscular arms across his chest. Intimidating as hell, but at least she wasn't
afraid
of him.

“So, talk,” he said.

Her arms were already folded across her chest, so she cupped her palms around her elbows. Where should she start? She so desperately wanted him to believe her. Needed him to because he was Ben; because she couldn't do this on her own anymore and had no reason to. “I told you someone had been following me. For a couple weeks now. Then they broke into my place, went into my e-mails and hard drive and I found— ”

“The transmitters. Yeah, I know. I was there, remember?”

Nerves grabbed in her belly. She rushed to find the words to make him understand. “I went to Luke that day, told him I suspected Fahdi was up to something, and planted a device on him.” He didn't react to the information other than to nod, and her heart sank in disappointment. “You knew that already?”

“Luke told me.”

“But then... ”

“Then what? That's it? That's the best you can do to convince me you're innocent?”

She frowned. Innocent of what?

“What about Ali being blown to pieces a few hours after you disappeared? You're saying you didn't know what Fahdi was up to?”

She sucked back a gasp. The explosion on the day she'd run. Ali had been killed by it. “No, I didn't know anything!” Poor Ali. She was horrified Ben thought her capable of being part of that.

“And what about the men he sent after Bryn to kidnap her?”

She gasped. “I didn't know he'd— Is she all right?”

“She's going to be.”

“But what happened?”

Ben's hard gaze rattled her even more. “You mean to tell me you had no idea Fahdi'd planned to turn her over for Tehrazzi to torture and execute.”

“No!” The blood rushed out of her face. God, poor Bryn. “How could you think that? I would never have done anything to hurt Bryn, or anyone else.” Ben was super close with Bryn. No wonder he was so pissed at her. “Is she— did they... hurt her?”

“She'll be okay. She's stateside with Dec, who went in to rescue her. He barely made it through his surgery, by the way.”

The blood drained from her face.
The op.
“You didn't get my text in time. Oh, God... ”

“Yeah, great timing on your part. He and some of his SEALs were hit by friendly fire, then the chopper sent in to evacuate them was shot down.”

Because of you.

She winced and bit her lip. Ben didn't say it, but she knew that's what he was thinking. Poor Bryn and Dec. As soon as she got her name cleared, Sam was going to contact them and see if there was anything she could do. She rubbed her arms to restore some warmth, growing frantic to find a way to convince him she hadn't been involved in any of it, and was a victim herself. “Ben, please, I swear I wasn't in league with Fahdi, or anyone else.”