Point of No Return (20 page)

“No.”

“But I have—”

“I don’t give a shit what you have. I’m not letting you see anything. You showing up is all too convenient. I don’t trust
you
.”

She winced. His words tore at her, causing as much pain and damage as an exploding RPG round. The gray light gave him a sinister look. Geesus. A few minutes ago she thought he was prepared to work together. Now the man was in fight mode. This was all wrong. She’d made a mistake. She wished she hadn’t met him months ago. Wished she’d never been with him. There was no fucking way to prove she wasn’t the bad guy here. If she didn’t leave, right now, he’d keep hammering at her. She rose, said nothing, and pushed past him to go inside and retrieve her weapon and duffel containing the notes, then headed down the steps.

“Where are you going?” he said as she turned on a flashlight.

“The outdoor facility.” She stopped and turned the beam on him. “Or do I need to ask permission first?” He said nothing. “Oh. And me, taking this”—she held up the black bag—“is me not trusting you.”

She did her thing and hustled around the side of the cabin to the car. At the very least she’d hope their prior relationship would bring tolerance and allow sharing of info. At the best, sharing info and a bed. It had been a gamble and she’d lost all around. Nothing left to do but leave. The engine whirred to life and O’Brien came out.

“What are you doing?” he called. She turned on the lights and put it in reverse. Captured in the headlights, he raised a hand to protect his eyes from the glare of the high beams and came down the rickety stairs.

She buzzed down the window. “Leaving.” She twisted, looked over the seat and slowly backed the car.

“Stop.” He came to the driver’s side and leaned slightly. “I wasn’t kidding about the roads being wicked at night. Wait until morning.”

“Nope.” She tapped the gas and the car eased back. O’Brien grabbed on to the door. She kept her foot on the gas and he walked alongside.

“It’s dangerous.”

“I’ll risk it.” What did he care?

“What are you going to tell them?”

Now he was getting to the point. Him. She braked. “Tell them? I’ll
tell them
you were uncooperative and I left.”

“Okay.” He let go and stood straight. “I apologize.”

“For?”

“Whatever you think I did.”

She stared at his back as he returned to the cabin. “Nice.” She kept backing up.

O’Brien whirled and charged the car, acting every bit the wild man he looked to be. She positioned the gun in her lap. He slapped the hood with a fist.

“I said I was sorry. What more do you want?” He came to her window and leaned in, reaching for the keys.

Honey lifted the H&K enough for him to see it. “Back away.
Slow
. I won’t hesitate tightening my finger against the trigger. The rounds I use will easily penetrate the door.”

“You won’t kill me.”

“No, but I will make you a eunuch.”

He looked down. The barrel was pointed at the right level and he retreated a step. She flung open the door with enough force to knock him to his butt and hustled out to stand over him, double-handing the gun and pointing it at his left eyeball.

“Stop pointing that gun at me.”

“No.
Ah. Fuck.”
She let out an exasperated breath and lowered the gun. “I’m leaving.” She turned then whirled back. “I may not have the same stake in finding these assholes as you do. It doesn’t make me any less determined to find them.” She kicked his thigh. “You didn’t see what they did to those girls. One of whom died last night
. I. Want. Them
. I will get them with or without you.” She backed off and let him stand. “You’re so arrogant you think I was sent to this godforsaken place to get naked and have sex with you so you’d tell me all your secrets? Look at me, O’Brien.” She stretched out her arms. “Would the woman you know want to have sex with a rude, creepy, hairy guy that smells like lake, in a cabin with no electricity or indoor plumbing?”

He beat the dust from his backside and said nothing.

She shook her head. “I’m here to help and . . .”

“I know you’re from the government and here to help.”

“You’re incredible.” What could she say? There was no getting through. This Jack O’Brien she didn’t know and didn’t care to know. “Fuck it. I’ve had it with your weirdo raging asshole routine.” She returned to the car. “Go back to your pity party and whatever it is you’re smoking.”

She jammed the gear into reverse and floored the gas, doing a 180 and raising a cloud of luminous dust.

Jack came through the cloud, his hands high, palms out. “Don’t leave tonight.” He came to the side of the car, staying out of door-swing range. “It
is
dangerous.” He stepped back and shoved his hands into the jeans’ back pockets. Honey put it in drive and moved forward.

“I’m sorry. I’m an asshole.”

Honey looked at him. Yes, he was an asshole, a big hairy one. She looked around. The only light came from the cabin, the headlights, and a red glow from the brake lights on the brush beside the road. Crap. She really didn’t want to tackle the road. It would take a good hour to navigate it in this darkness.

“Stay.”

The Honda’s engine hummed and moths, drawn to the headlights, filled the air. “Are you going to quit acting like an asshole at least for tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Tomorrow, will you answer my questions about your brother?”

He hesitated. “Yes.”

She turned off the ignition and lights, gathered her bags and without a word went inside. Jack followed but stayed just outside the door.

“You can take the bed.” He sounded contrite.

“Sofa’s fine.” She sounded indifferent.

“Can I come in and get the blankets? Don’t have extra sheets.”

She nodded.

He went to the loft, returning with a pillow, quilt and two fleece blankets, dropping them on the sofa.

“I know it’s early but I’ve had a . . .” She started to say
wicked day
but didn’t want to aggravate him again. “Long day. Do you mind if I turn in now?”

“Sure. Get’s cool at night. Need to start a fire.” He crouched at the fireplace and stacked the grate high with wood. “You can wash in the sink. Towels on that chair are clean.” He tipped his head to the stack of clothes. “Use what you want. Waters cold. By the time you finish the fire will be going good to warm you.”

The water wasn’t cold, it was liquid ice. She pumped the frigid water and took her time washing, using a paper towel for a washcloth while the fire gained strength.

Jack put out the oil lamps. “I’ll take a walk around outside while you change. Once you’re on the sofa I’ll go up.” He went out then stepped back in. “So you know, I sleep with earbuds in. You need me, yell. Loud.”

Earbuds? Really?
He wouldn’t know anyone was coming in until he woke up with a gun in his face. Honey arranged the covers on the sofa, stuck her H&K under the frame, then stripped to her panties and shrugged into a gray cami top. She stood in front of the fire turning, gathering warmth and knowing Jack was watching from the shadows. Sufficiently warmed, she plopped down. The old leather grumbled with her every attempt to burrow under the blankets and get comfortable. The fire’s flickering dance reminded her of the fire in the Nordic hunter’s cabin where she and Jack had spent four days insulated from the world by feet of snow. The northern lights had been almost as spectacular as the sex.

Jack cleared his throat and the tumblers on the door clacked into place. She yanked the cover over her head and curled into a human comma. Steps and loft boards creaked, shoes thudded. Denim chaffed against flesh and in the ensuing silence she imagined him standing there naked, looking down at her. Imagined the flickering glow of the fire turning his body golden as it had in Norway. A moment later the mattress sighed, sheets and blankets rustled and rasped. A grumpy man sound, then silence. Tomorrow they’d talk and she’d get the hell out of here and his life. The fire sizzled and snapped, lulling her to sleep.

Chapter 16

Honey’s danger vibes woke her. She carefully moved the blanket from her face and gripped the H&K, listening to sounds outside. She levered up enough to see into the loft. A lump under the covers and loud regular breathing said it wasn’t O’Brien out there. She sat slowly, doing her best to keep the leather from protesting, moving her head side to side like radar antenna honing in on the direction of the sound. She had it.
Flaming fish balls
, there was more than one. They were crashing through the dense woods surrounding the cabin unconcerned about noise. Not good.

“O’Brien,” she hissed and grabbed a clip from her duffel and stuck the cold metal in the waistband of her panties. Nothing from him. Fuck.
Earbuds.
She pitched a boot on his bed. “O’Brien.” Her voice was louder and urgent.

“Huh?” the bed creaked.

“We got company.” She made for the door.

“No.” His feet thudded on the floor as she eased open the door and slipped to the porch. To the left she heard at least four Tangos moving parallel to the cabin. Honey scoped out the darkness, wishing she had night-vision goggles. Clouds and a low fog spread through the trees, allowing her to see the moving shadows in degrees of darkness. She raised the gun, head and weapon tracking the sounds until O’Brien’s solid body was against her back, his arms extended beside hers. His hands covered hers.

“Four out there,” she whispered. “Ten meters.” Heat from his body flooded hers. The fur on his face tickled her cheek. “Where’s your weapon?” she whispered.

His lips brushed her ear. “Don’t have one.” He pressed down on her arms.

She resisted the pressure. “Why the fuck not?”
Was he crazy?

Two shadows moved through the trees. Synapses sparked warnings in her brain, tensing every muscle. Despite the chill, a film of sweat coated her skin. She set her feet. O’Brien circled an arm around her waist, eliminating any space between their bodies. His familiar musky scent filled her nostrils.

“Lower the gun.” The deep whisper rumbled in her ear, sending a shiver dancing over her damp skin. She moved her head side to side.

“It’s deer. Does and fawns. They come through here a few times a week to a salt lick. Look five meters to the left of your aiming.” Honey adjusted the five meters and squinted at the dark outlines moving through the trees.

“See them?”

She nodded. A doe materialized from the fog five feet from the porch and snorted. She stood looking at them for a long moment until a fawn trotted to her side and together they bolted off to join the others.

She caved against O’Brien with relief and dropped her arm. Jack nuzzled the side of her head and tightened his grip on her waist. His lips rested against her ear. Not a kiss. Just as sensual, tantalizing. His thumb whisked her ribs and sent a spark through her like flint striking steel, igniting a fire in her belly. His breathing mirrored hers, his hard body rising and falling in unison with hers. The muscles in the arms enveloping her went taut. He sucked in a breath, breaking the tempo.

“I’m going to let go of you,” his lips vibrated against her ear, and then he was gone as silently as he’d come.

She trembled as a cold damp blanket of night air replaced his warmth and from the overwhelming want of him. The moment her body recognized his scent, his touch, it blossomed into full lust. “Uhhh.” She shook to redirect her brain away from sex, and when that didn’t work she issued a verbal order.
“
Get control of yourself.” The words drifted on the fog. She jerked around to see if Jack heard. No. He was at the fireplace feeding logs on the embers. The cabin took on a fairy-tale glow as flames erupted. Not tonight. No fairy tales coming true for this Marine. She stopped at the door, watching him hold the quilt she’d been using outstretched in front of the fire. Shadows flickered on the other side of the cloth, backlighting the impossibly broad shoulders where she’d rested her head. The narrow hips that fit perfectly between her legs. The memory of the passion they’d shared racked her body with new tremors.

“Come in and close the door. Or stay out if you want, but close the door. You’re letting in the dampness.”

Honey moved inside and closed the door.

“Come here,” he said without looking at her.

After a moment of hesitation, she went to his side and he wrapped her in the quilt. The heat collected from the fire vanquished the night’s damp chill. His arms lingering around her longer than necessary did nothing to vanquish her lust attack. The fire in her belly erupted higher and hotter than the flames in front of her.

“Lie down.” His voice was husky, crackling with male power.

As she lowered herself to the sofa, the fire spread lower, between her legs. O’Brien leaned over her and she inhaled deeply, taking in his familiar scent. A wild, dangerous scent she could never quite identify that compelled her to lick and taste him. The flesh between her legs was wet and pulsed with anticipation.

“Jack,” she whispered and expected to feel the pressure of his mouth on hers. He pulled the crocheted coverlet from the back of the sofa, tucking it close, then . . . he was gone.

The stairs to the loft creaked.
He’d left her
. Her stomach jittered like she’d swallowed a sack of cats. She yanked the covers over her head and thought about Bristol and Global to throw cold water on her desire. It wasn’t doing much good.

“Honey.”

For a moment she wasn’t sure if he was there speaking or her desire was conjuring up his voice. She said nothing.

“Major, I know you’re awake.”

He peeled the cover away from her head and her hair crackled with electricity. Seeing him crouched beside her threw gas on the fire.

He moved hair, bristling with static, off her face. “All that shit I said earlier. I didn’t mean it.” His low voice goose-fleshed her. He drew the cover farther down. “It isn’t true. I’m sorry.” His hand drifted to her mouth. “I’m sorry I said it.”

“Okay.” The reasonable part of her brain screamed,
Warning
.
Agent. Spy. Con man
doing exactly what he accused you of. Using you as an asset. That smart, well-trained brain demanded she cross her legs and forget their past time together. The evolutionary lizard brain she had no control over screamed at her to strip those baggy sweats off his hips. Touch and suck his hard, salty body. Grasp him, take him into her mouth and give him pleasure, take her pleasure as he entered her slowly. Delight as his weight settled on her after his release. Enjoy the warm blanketing pleasure of the afterglow.