Tainted Hearts (22 page)

Tuesday moaned. Oh, it was good—it was so
good. The chilled wine contrasted with the heat of his breath and
there was nothing tentative about the way his mouth touched her.
His lips and tongue stroked and explored every hidden recess, every
tender crevice.

“You like that?” he whispered, his mouth
moving against her.

“Yes, oh yes!”

He built the tension to a fevered pitch,
cooling her intimate flesh with wine, then setting her ablaze with
his torrid kisses. She clasped the edge of the table, her head
tossing from side to side. Dropping the empty goblet to the carpet,
he focused entirely on arousing her. She trembled, lifting her hips
in brazen invitation.

He circled her swollen clit with the tip of
his tongue, while he pushed two fingers gradually into her
throbbing core. Tuesday held perfectly still, overcome by the
thrill of penetration. Her legs shook, instinctively opening wider.
She waited for him to move, to work his fingers in and out, but he
flexed them instead, gently curved them inward. After repositioning
several times, he stroked across a gathering of nerve endings that
made her passage tingle and burn.

“Oh,” she cried out, her heels slipping off
his shoulders and onto his back.

He caressed her with his fingers and circled
her with his tongue. Tuesday writhed helplessly, the intensity
rapidly approaching pain.

“Don’t fight it, love,” he coaxed. “Relax
and you’ll come.”

Relax? She felt like her body was about to
fly apart. How was she supposed to relax? “I don’t think I can.”
She panted.

“Now or never,” he warned playfully.

Slowly, he pulled his fingers out, but his
tongue flicked across her ruthlessly. Heated sensations coalesced
deep inside her, gathering tighter and tighter, and then sprang
free. She cried out, her hips arching off the table while violent
shudders of pleasure ricocheted through her body.

Marc drew her against his chest, kissing her
deeply.
We should move to the bedroom.
He really didn’t want
to take her on the tabletop but she raised her legs against his
sides and angled her hips in silent invitation. His shaft found her
entrance as if of its own volition. Her slick folds closed around
him, her heat seared him and he groaned.

“Here? Or—”

“Here!” She crossed her ankles at the small
of his back and pulled his mouth to hers.

Unable to restrain himself a moment longer,
he thrust home in one forceful lunge. She cried out, her nails
digging into his shoulders. “Oh, love, did I hurt you?” Her supple
legs tightened around his hips and her inner muscles rippled with
release. He chuckled. “Guess not.”

Panting, she sank to her back, her legs
still hooked around his waist. He dragged her to the edge of the
table and pulled almost out of her. Firmly holding her hips, he
began to move in earnest. Her legs hindered his depth, minimized
his leverage. He pulled her closer.

With a frustrated cry, she unhooked her
ankles and grabbed the backs of her knees, opening herself,
offering herself.

Heat suffused Marc’s entire body and his
cock jerked inside her. He hooked his fingers over the edge of the
table and thrust deeply. She clung to him, hot and liquid, yet
incredibly tight. Trembling with each penetration, she groaned as
he dragged himself nearly out. He wanted this to go on forever, the
gathering pleasure, the intimate connection.

He covered her mouth with his, matching each
thrust with a stroke of his tongue. He had to be inside her, to be
part of her, complete her. He felt nearly frantic with the urge to
join with her. He couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t get deep
enough—couldn’t get enough.

What was wrong with him?

Why did he feel so—desperate?

Tearing his mouth from hers, he cried out
sharply. He dragged her ass off the table, wrapped his arms firmly
around her hips and surrendered to release.

Marc’s vidcom sent out a shrill signal and
he dragged his mouth away from Tuesday’s breast. “Shit.” He growled
and crawled off the bed.

“Ignore it.”

“I can’t. That’s an urgent page. Only one
person has the code to activate it and there’s no way he’d use it
unless it was an emergency.”

His vidcom was still clamped to the
waistband of his pants, which he’d left in the main room of the
hotel suit. Snatching the device from its holder, he activated
audio only as he returned to the bedroom.

“What’s wrong, Cobra? This better be
important.”

“I wouldn’t have disturbed you otherwise.”
Tension crackled through Phil’s tone. “I sent for an interrogator
as you requested but our disciple got the better of him.”

Marc’s passion-muddled brain awkwardly
decoded the message. Elijah James had escaped. “Is it possible he
returned to his assignment without informing you?”

“I don’t believe so, sir. His attitude
greatly improved during his interrogation. The last time I spoke
with him we were discussing alternate assignments.”

“Then why would he bolt?” Marc glanced at
the bed. Tuesday watched silently, absorbing his side of the
conversation with rapt interest.

“He’s scared. There’s no mystery here. He
figures if you don’t end his assignment, the prime suspect will. I
just need to know how you’d like to proceed.”

“How much of a liability is he? Do we dare
just let him run?”

“That’s your call. Some of his information
is potentially damning, but he’d need motivation to use it.”

“Better safe than sorry. See if you can
round him up.”

“Affirmative. Cobra, out.”

Marc set his vidcom on the nightstand and
got back into bed.

“What was that about?” Tuesday’s gaze shone
with curiosity.

Marc had guarded his secrets so long, part
of him fought against revealing them now. “I lost my contact inside
the PURE stronghold.”

“You have an operative inside PURE?” She
sat, holding the sheet against her naked breasts.

“Had. Past tense. We’re currently unable to
verify his location.”

“Oh God, do you think Job found him?”

Marc shook his head. “He’d been taken to a
safe house to unwind for a few days. He’d been Job’s right hand for
over a year and it was starting to get to him.”

“What happened? Why did you send him to the
safe house?”

Inching the sheet down, Marc tried to
distract her. She ignored the ploy and stared at him expectantly.
“Job ordered him to bring you to him, but I snatched you
first.”

She shuddered. “You sent him to the safe
house to protect him from Job.”

“It’s more complicated than that. He knows
he’s in danger because he failed, but a year at Job’s side has
convinced him I’m evil incarnate. He showed up at the other hotel
shortly after you left for work.”

“Showed up? I gather it wasn’t a social
call.”

Marc shook his head. “He tried to blast a
hole in my chest that even a SP-64 wouldn’t fix. This makes try
number four.”

“How long has Job been trying to kill
you?”

“The first attempt was three years ago.” He
stretched out on his back, folding his hands behind his head. “The
second was on the fifth anniversary of Emma’s death, and the third
was not quite three months ago.”

“And you’re certain Job is behind the
attempts?”

“Job is not a subtle man. Before all this
began, I received a message explaining why I must be PUREified. It
wasn’t the first death threat I’d received. I thought I could
handle it.”

“Why do you say it like that? You’re still
alive.”

“I hired the best security specialist money
can buy. Phil works for me, but I follow his directives to the
letter. That’s the only reason I’m still alive.”

She snuggled against his side, resting her
head on his shoulder. “Does Bettencourt know about Phil?”

“Hell no. I don’t trust him any more than
you do.”

“But you trust Phil?”

“He hasn’t failed me yet. One of Phil’s
security protocols warned me of my unwanted visitor.”

Pushing up on her elbow, she looked down
into his face. “What are you doing about the missing
operative?”

“I told Phil to try to find him. I hate
loose ends.”

Tuesday stood before him in all her naked
glory, bathed in pale moonlight, her gaze warm and adoring. She
cupped her lush breasts, her smile warm and inviting.

“Turn around, my love, and lift your hair. I
want to see that magnificent ass.”

Tuesday turned, gathering her mass of
strawberry-blonde curls atop her head, exposing the elegant line of
her spine, her soft, womanly hips, and—

Urgent pounding on the door to Job’s private
apartment jarred him from his fantasy. He cursed under his breath
as the illusion faded and the woman before him reverted to her
natural appearance. The cloud of curly hair straightened and
darkened. Her body thinned, her flawless ivory skin took on an
olive cast and the plush, rounded hips shrank to boyish
proportions. Disgusted, he threw Rahab her robe and stood.

Snatching his robe from the foot of the bed,
he struggled into it as he hurried across his sitting room to
unlock the door. He and David were the only ones who could activate
the elevator and David would never disturb him unless the need was
dire. He knew better.

Job yanked open the door and demanded an
explanation with his expression.

“I have a gift for you,” David said
simply.

Following his lieutenant down the short
corridor, Job activated the lights in the salon with a voice
command and found his “gift” kneeling, naked, his hands bound
behind his back.

“Where did you find him?” Job smiled at
David, pleased by the speed of his success.

“Attempting to leave the country. He’s a
coward. Cowards run.”

“I was not attempting to leave. I was—”

Job stopped Elihu’s words with a vicious
uppercut, rocking him backward, splitting his lip. “You will only
speak when I request information or I’ll have your mouth sewn
shut.”

Catching a faint movement out of the corner
of his eye, Job snapped his head toward the corridor. Rahab stood
there, a white silk robe doing little to conceal her charms. Her
dark gaze was fixed on Elihu, but as usual Job couldn’t read her
expression.

“Join us, Rahab. David has found the
traitor. I’d like you to see how we deal with disloyalty. By
betraying one member of PURE, he has betrayed us all.”

She padded across the salon and sat facing
Elihu. Was she hiding her face from him or did she want to watch
her ex-lover suffer? No matter, her loyalty would be tested soon
enough.

He turned back to Elihu. “I’m a reasonable
man. Explain where David found you and why you were there. I will
listen to your account of the tale.”

Elihu’s mouth opened, as if he would speak,
but his lips just trembled and he bowed his head.

“Shall I ask the question of David? He has
already determined your guilt.”

“I was at the transport station but I was
not preparing to leave.”

When Elihu said nothing more, Job kicked him
in the side. “And? That hardly explains your absence or your
presence at the transport station. Your mission was to locate
Tuesday Fitzpatrick and bring her to me. Where is she?” Blood
trickled across Elihu’s chin and dripped onto his chest. Job
glanced at Rahab. “Clean him up, before he soils my carpeting.”

She retrieved several tissues from the box
on the end table and approached her ex-lover with disdain in her
eyes. Job watched as she none too gently wiped his lip, chin and
chest. Unforgiving little bitch. He smiled. Her spirit still amused
him but her physical appeal had vanished when he saw Tuesday in
person for the first time.

Tuesday, with her soft, shapely body and her
untainted blood, she was a woman worthy of his seed.

“I know Tuesday came to you,” Elihu said. “I
know you are greatly displeased with me and I was attempting to
regain your favor.”

The conviction in his tone cut through Job’s
half-formed image of Tuesday. He looked at the kneeling man, his
curiosity piqued. “How did you hope to regain my favor at the
transport station?”

Elihu’s dark eyes darted to his and then
away. “I was able to isolate an image of the Sinclair-Dietrich
shuttle she boarded the morning she disappeared.”

“I know she was kidnapped by an employee of
Sinclair-Dietrich. She told me as much.” Bored already, Job’s
attention drifted. David’s cold blue gaze had settled on Rahab. She
clutched the front of her robe, but the bottom edge gaped,
revealing her toned legs to mid-thigh. Perhaps he would allow David
to—

“You don’t understand, sir,” Elihu
persisted. “The shuttle isn’t registered to the corporation. It’s
registered to Marcus Sinclair.”

His interest focused squarely on Elihu
again, Job considered the information. “Are you certain?”

“Yes, sir. That’s why I was at the transport
station. I bribed an acquaintance to pull up a routine log on the
shuttle. I know where he took her, how long they stayed and
everywhere the shuttle has been since.”

Excitement zinged through Job’s body. It
couldn’t be that simple. Sinclair wasn’t that stupid. “Is it a
single operator registration or can anyone Sinclair designates use
the shuttle?”

“There are twelve designated users,” Elihu
admitted.

“Then, you know nothing more than Tuesday
told me. It could have been any one of those twelve people. Where’s
the shuttle now?”

“It left the mediplex at midmorning and flew
directly to Sinclair Estates.”

That added credence to Elihu’s hypothesis,
but Job required proof. “We can’t penetrate the estate’s security,
we’ve tried,” he grumbled.

“You realize what this means, don’t
you?”

David seldom bothered to speak, so Job had
learned to heed him when he did. “What?”