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Authors: Dana Marton

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“No, but I’ll keep an ear out. Need backup?”

“Not yet. I’ll let you know.” He would have hated to involve the Tarasovs any more than he already had.

“You do that. And make sure nothing happens to my girl.” Tarasov was as cool an operator as Cade had ever seen, but when it came to his wife, he had a tendency to go crazy even over the smallest thing.

“You bet.”

He hung up and wrapped the hard drive in a sweatshirt he’d brought with him, picking the most optimally placed table outside where he could accidentally leave it once Carly showed.

 

B
AILEY STARED AT THE ROAD
ahead of them, her mind reeling. What she had just seen Cade do, she had only seen in spy movies before. If she had known who her new neighbor was when he’d moved in, she would have probably run screaming for the hills. Not that she knew much now. Except that he definitely wasn’t a computer programmer. And that he wasn’t going to tell her the full truth anytime soon. Probably not ever.

“You’re too quiet.” He shot her a questioning look. His caramel eyes looked dark chocolate now that the sun had gone down.

“Just thinking that until now, I could honestly say that whatever they thought they had against me, I was innocent. Now that I’ve broken into the FBI…” God, it didn’t bear thinking about.

Several counts of grand theft auto, plus breaking and entering into a government facility. And she had a feeling they weren’t done yet. Was this what they called “the point of no return” in the movies? There was definitely no going back from here, no going to the cops. She had to ride it out with Cade and see if his plan worked. If it didn’t…She closed her eyes and fought back the panic.

“You didn’t break in anywhere. You went to the bathroom and opened a window to air the place out. That’s not a crime.”

“If you think they’ll—”

“If this goes down badly, I kidnapped you. Got that?”

Self-sacrifice? She really didn’t know the man at all. The guy who’d annoyed her from morning to night for the past three months wouldn’t do something like this. “Let’s just make sure nothing goes wrong.”

“I’m working on it,” he said.

By the time they got back to the cabin, it was nearly eleven—he’d taken several detours to make sure that nobody followed them.

He pulled the car into the lean-to and tossed a tarp over it. “We’ll get rid of it tomorrow.”

Thank God for that. She didn’t have it in her to leave the car somewhere down the road and then walk back a few more miles tonight.

He went in first, not letting her follow until he thoroughly inspected the place. And she couldn’t resent him for that. She was aware that without him, she’d be sitting on a metal chair in a sparse room with a grumpy FBI agent yelling questions at her from behind a bright light—or worse.

Instead, she was still free, comfortably full—they’d eaten a couple of hamburgers while they’d waited for Cade’s “friend,” who turned out to be a gorgeous blonde—and about to get some rest after a day straight from hell.

She kicked off her shoes, walked to the bathroom and picked up the plastic bowl, holding it out to Cade. “So who’s going to take a bath first?” She couldn’t help the sarcasm.

He took the bowl and set it aside. “I think we’d be more comfortable in the lake.”

Having her whole body immersed in cool water sounded like heaven. But she was wary of the lake at night. “How deep is the water?”

“There’s a shallow beach a little way down from the docks.”

“I don’t have a bathing suit.”

“Neither do I.”

Her pulse sped up. Skinny-dipping with Cade Palmer. Interesting. And probably to be avoided at all costs.

He opened his mouth, and she expected him to say something suggestive.

“We’ll be fine in our Tshirts,” he said.

Full of surprises, this man.

“Okay,” she agreed against her better judgment. Maybe bathing in the lake was the right thing to do. It would certainly take longer than a sponge bath, with the walk down there and back. It should give her some extra time to strategize about how she was going to handle the futon situation.

But strategizing could not have been further from her mind fifteen minutes later, as she stood waist deep in the water and watched Cade break the surface a few feet away. He didn’t wear his T-shirt, leaving everything on the beach except his midnight-blue boxers. She’d already inched her way into the water by then, too late to retreat.

With the water glistening on his wide, muscular shoulders and running down his chest in rivulets, he looked like—

“Isn’t this nice?” he asked.

“Mmm.” She didn’t trust her voice.

“This should cool us off enough to get a good night’s sleep.”

She hadn’t yet felt a cooling effect but was ready for it. Any minute now. Please.

She stepped back, hoping to put some distance between them, and stumbled into a hole in the muddy lake bottom, losing her footing and slipping under. He was there in a split second, hauling her up. Against his hard body.

There really was only so much temptation a woman could take. She allowed herself to rest against him for a second. His arm was around her waist. Her face tilted to his.

“Are you okay?” His voice was an octave lower than usual.

The moment was spoiled only by her wet hair plastered down on her face. She probably looked like a drowned rat.

“Fine.” She blinked water from her eyes and brushed her hair behind her ears.

Still, he didn’t let her go.

“We should probably go in.” She needed to get away from him before the desire to feel his lips on hers won and she made a fool of herself. “Someone might see us.”

“They’ll think we’re lovers, messing around in the night.” He lowered his head an inch.

Her mouth went dry.

“It wouldn’t hurt to work on that cover a little.” His breath fanned her face. Then slowly, deliberately, his mouth opened over hers.

Her hands slipped to his waist so she could steady herself, then moved onto the muscles of his back. Her spine tingled with pleasure as he slowly tasted her, taking his time, brushing his mouth against hers, applying a little pressure.

She knew what he wanted. And she seemed powerless to deny him. She opened for him and drowned in the sensation of her tongue meeting his. And after another second, she realized that she was in so much trouble here.

If there was a guy in this universe who was absolutely, utterly, irrevocably the wrong man for her, it was the one whose tongue was doing the slow waltz with hers. For one, she still had no idea who he really was, other than a dangerous man.

But her body didn’t care. All it wanted was more, more, more. They must have been on the same wavelength because he tilted her in his arms, slanted his mouth over hers for better access and systematically liquefied her bones.

 

H
E HAD TO STOP
. A
S IN
now. As in five minutes ago. If he didn’t, he was going to take her right here in the water.

Her mouth was sweet and hot. Her body fit perfectly against his. Okay, so he had lusted after her pretty much since he’d moved in. So maybe he’d played up how annoying she was to make sure he kept his distance, and was annoying back to make sure she kept hers. He’d been clear all along that something like this was a bad idea. So why couldn’t he remember that now?

Okay, he remembered it. Dimly. But for the life of him, he couldn’t act on the quiet voice of sanity that whispered “Don’t go there” from the distance.

Her breasts slid into his palms. It had to have happened that way, because he sure as hell didn’t remember going for them. But there they were, filling his hands, their firm weight nearly bringing him to his knees.

“Bailey?”

He couldn’t be asking what he thought he was asking.

“I think we should go back,” he said quickly before she could answer. For good measure, he let go of her and stepped away.

“Uh-huh.”

“You go on. I’ll stay a little longer.” Long enough for the cold water to flatten the front of his boxer shorts.

“Okay.” She turned and took a reluctant step away from him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no big deal. Just for our cover, right?” She wouldn’t look at him.

Not right. In fact, she couldn’t have been more wrong. But it would have been the flat-out stupidest thing to tell her. “Sure.”

She took the second step faster, then the third. And he stood there, staring after her like a jackass as she gracefully walked from the water and across the beach, her long T-shirt plastered to that incredible body, which wasn’t going to allow his imagination a moment of rest tonight.

When she disappeared into the shack and the lights came on in the window, he turned and threw himself into the water. A good swim was what he needed. He planned on being bone tired before he went back there.

 

S
HE WAS ALONE IN THE
shack. Cade was alone in the lake. Well, he didn’t fancy swimming. He stayed by the window instead and watched the woman slip out \of her wet T-shirt and underwear. Cade would come out of that water sooner or later and come to her.

He’d lost them on the way to Maryland, but the man he occasionally blackmailed at the FBI had let him know as soon as they had new information, which had brought him to the train station next to the lake. After that it had been a matter of going through the small community of fishing cabins one by one until he’d found what he was looking for.

At exactly the right time. Luck again. He smiled as he watched.

She had full breasts, tipped with rose-colored, large nipples like exotic berries. A slim waist, flat stomach. She wasn’t overly thin like the always-starving whores of Jakarta, with their sharp hip bones and their ribs showing too much as they bent over him. There was a supple softness to this one that he liked.

He was moving toward the door when he sensed an approaching presence. Not Cade. He couldn’t have gotten out of the water this fast.

He pulled back into the shadows again and slinked away from the shack. Impatience never got anyone anywhere but the grave.

 

G
OING MORE THAN HALFWAY
across the lake and back did the trick. Cade had swum miles and miles in rehab to strengthen his lungs after they’d taken the shrapnel from his chest. He’d used the monotonous exercise back then to numb his mind, just as he was using it now to numb his body.

The beach was no longer deserted when he got back.

A small bonfire burned on shore. Three college girls were skinny-dipping, the water just below their naked breasts.

“Excuse me, ladies. Coming out,” he said, giving warning.

Instead of ducking into the water, they giggled.

If they didn’t care, he sure as hell didn’t. He looked away from them and headed for shore.

“Are you staying here?” one of them called after him when he was in the waist-high shallows.

“Leaving in the morning.”

“How come we didn’t see you?”

“I’m usually early to bed.”

“Want to come for a swim with us?” Her friends giggled again.

The invitation was clear. And at any other time in his life, he would have taken it. He had been thinking not that long ago about a little R & R very much like this to get Bailey out from under his skin. But now he couldn’t get away from the girls fast enough.

“I think I’ll be turning in. But thanks.” He waded out of the water and gathered up his T-shirt.

“You can warm up by our fire.” The words dripped innuendo.

Cade didn’t like fire. He’d even blocked the fireplace at the new house, pushing a dresser in front of it. He hated looking at anything that was sooty black, hated the smell of smoke in his nose.

He kept on walking.

“If you change your mind, we’ll be here.”

He headed toward the shack without responding to them.

He needed all right—wanted—but not what those girls were offering. He wanted Bailey, a disconcerting thought. He loved the fairer sex and took any presented opportunity to enjoy them, not that his job had left him with a lot of time to fool around during the past twenty years.

Women. Not a specific one. Not ever.

If the blonde at the bar insisted on taking him home, fine. But if he ended up with her brunette friend instead, he wasn’t too put out. He had never wanted one specific woman the way he wanted Bailey. Bailey Preston and nobody else.

Damn.

He could have her. Long night. One bed.

She had responded to him back in the water. The memory of that was enough to get him hard all over again. He’d just have to live with it. No way was he going for another swim. Not with the collegiate barracudas out there. But Bailey…

He could see her through the window as she was getting ready for bed. Maybe he could have her. Then again, she had proved herself to be pretty sensible so far. Maybe he couldn’t. That thought bothered him more than it should have.

Suddenly his senses sounded the high alarm, and the next second he had picked out the shadow behind the empty shack next door, less than twenty feet from him. But knowing someone was there meant nothing. He had no weapon. No cover.

The metal of a gun flashed in the moonlight as the man took a step forward and said, “Put your hands above your head and drop to your knees.”

Chapter Six

Cade took a moment to assess his options. The guy was so close, he had a sure shot. Damn. He should have taken his gun to the beach. Except that he couldn’t have taken it into the water and he wouldn’t leave a loaded gun on shore, where anyone could come across it. Which left him unarmed. Again.

His three months of retirement must have slow cooked his brain. Or maybe Bailey Preston had done that.

He glanced toward the lean-to from the corner of his eye, without moving his head. If he could grab one of the paddles, maybe he could draw the attacker away from the shack—away from Bailey—and fast. Before she decided to look out and see why he wasn’t back yet. She had the tendency to be as much trouble as humanly possible in any given situation.

He shifted his weight slightly, getting ready to lunge.

“I wouldn’t try it,” the man said. Damn his eyes. He shouldn’t have seen such a slight movement in the dark. “To your knees, buddy.”

That cocky drawl was familiar. “Joey?” Cade asked.

Joey Tanner stayed motionless for another second before stepping forward into the light filtering from the window, his face finally revealed. “Cade? What in hell are you doing here?” He lowered his gun.

“Last I heard you were out of the country, or I would have called.” The kid had caught him without a gun. What in the hell was wrong with him? He’d been slacking off for weeks now, trying to act like a normal person and not a killing machine. Was he changing for Bailey? Hell of a time to realize it. He shook out the T-shirt in his left hand and pulled it over his head. What had he expected would come from all of this, anyway?

“Got back last night.” Joey put the safety on his gun. “You’re always welcome at the Bass Palace.” He looked Cade over, measuring him up. “Heard you retired.”

“Decided to dedicate my life to the ladies.” He didn’t want to get into his last mission, especially not his injuries, or why he had taken retirement when it had been offered to him, instead of fighting tooth and nail to stay on the team.

Joey read his tone and posture right, and didn’t push. “Wishful thinking, eh? That’s always good. Gotta keep positive.”

Cade didn’t miss the angry welt above Joey’s left eye. Had to be a story behind that row of stitches. A story he wanted badly to hear—he did miss the action. But they wouldn’t be swapping war tales. Security clearance within the SDDU did not extend beyond one’s own missions. If he asked straight-out, Joey would claim a car accident with enough conviction that he’d probably believe him.

“Got back last night and your first trip was to the lake?” Cade could hear the “I’m not buying that” tone in his own voice. “How did you know someone was here?”

“You tripped the silent alarm. There are weight sensors in the floor. As soon as someone steps inside, it rings my cell.” Joey was grinning from ear to ear.

Cade grinned back. Joey had always been a sucker for technology. “That’s new. Gadget Man?”

Joey’s smile faded. “Yeah.”

Gadget Man was a guy on the unit who was a marvel with technology. He had set them up with tailor-made tools for special missions—there were few in the SDDU who could say they didn’t owe their lives to him. But Gadget Man had gone missing almost a year ago somewhere in sub-Saharan Africa and not even all the intelligence at the Colonel’s fingertips could find him.

“So who’s the babe in there?” Joey asked after a short pause. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know her. Unless, you know, you’re—”

“We’re not.”

Joey was grinning again. “Funny that. Your mouth says
no,
but your eyes say
mine.

“You can’t even see my face in the dark.” Cade hated the snap in his voice as well as the all-knowing glint in Joey’s eyes.

“Let’s get inside then, where there’s light and a hot babe to be had.”

Joey the Kid.
Cade shook his head. At twenty-seven, Joey Tanner was one of the youngest men in the SDDU. He was utterly and unashamedly obsessed with big guns, fast cars and easy women.

He could warn Joey about just where Bailey rated on the easy scale. But it’d be much more fun to watch him find out.

“After you,” Cade said, noticing that while they’d been talking, the light inside had gone out. Had Bailey gone to bed without waiting up for him? He had sort of hoped they’d be going to bed together. As in the two of them. Minus Joey Tanner.

Joey tucked his gun into his waistband and covered it with his shirt before opening the door. He was reaching for the light switch when Cade saw his own handgun move in from the right and connect with Joey’s temple.

“Stay right where you are.” To her credit, Bailey managed to say the words like she meant them.

And damn if that hard resolution in her voice didn’t shoot a flash of heat to his groin. Hot.

“All right, honey, easy now.” Joey’s voice carried a dose of surprise and a hint of turn-on, too. Which irritated the hell out of Cade. “It’s just us. That ugly wart, Cade, and Joey Tanner, his good-looking friend.”

“Cade?” she called out, sounding uncertain now.

“I’m right behind him. Everything’s all right. He owns this place.”

She took her sweet time before she lowered the gun.

Joey flicked on the light and turned a million-watt smile on her. “I prefer to call it my Bass Palace.”

She looked wide-eyed and flushed, her breath coming fast and her chest rising with it. No smile lit up her face. She’d been scared. But before he could react to that thought, Cade realized that she had changed her clothes. He had a hard time taking his eyes off her white tank top and the pink shorts which hugged her in interesting ways.

Joey hadn’t missed any of that, either, judging from the appreciative look on his freshly patched-up face. Which could easily come to meet with another bruise or two before the night was out.

“Down, boy,” Cade said under his breath.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what was going on out there. Come in.” Bailey stepped away, still holding the gun.

Cade scowled. There were two guns in play, and he had nothing. Not counting the repeat action in his pants, which he hoped to hell the other two couldn’t see. Hot damn, but she was sexy when she took charge of a situation like that. Who knew? Okay, he did. He’d seen her go at a four-by-four with a band saw in her garage once. She ruled lumber—yes, ma’am. In a flowery fairy skirt and halter top, accessorized with steel-toed boots, protective gloves and safety goggles holding back that tumble of cinnamon hair. He nearly drove right through his own garage door while staring at her.

“Thank you, darlin’.” Joey followed her in, casting a glance at Cade. “My kind of woman,” he said so only Cade would hear.

 

J
OEY
T
ANNER STAYED FOR
an hour or so and flirted shamelessly the whole time. He wasn’t serious—Bailey was pretty sure about that—but she appreciated his taking her mind off the severity of their situation. That, and he provided a nice buffer for the thickening sexual tension that had started between Cade and her in the water. She’d been jumping out of her skin with anticipation, waiting for him to come back. And her nerves had frayed even more when she’d heard the voice of a stranger outside.

She flashed Joey a smile over the white plastic table. Saved by the bell.

He was originally from Louisiana, which was why he had to have a little something near water now that he lived in the Northeast. He talked about crawfish, bayous and alligator wrestling.

He was young, bursting with energy and impossibly handsome. That open smile of his never left his face. He was a contrast to Cade, who was becoming more and more morose as the night wore on.

“Better get going.” Joey stood at last, well after midnight. “Stay as long as you like,” he said to Cade, then looked at her on his way out the door. “You’re welcome to anything I have.”

Cade suddenly had a coughing fit, and Joey’s smile widened. “Good luck. I’ll be stateside for the next—” he glanced at his watch “—four hours. Call me if there’s anything I can do to help.”

 

Y
OU’VE DONE MORE THAN
enough, Cade thought. He stood to walk Joey outside. When they were through the door, he decided not to give the guy a matching split above the other eye as he’d been tempted to do for the past hour or so. He inhaled the cool night air. “Let me know if you hear anything. Going anywhere near my old hunting grounds?” he asked, not expecting much of an answer.

“Private mission.” The smile slid off Joey’s face for the first time.

Interesting. “Colonel knows about that?”

“Can’t put the team in jeopardy. If the mission goes down badly, he can say I went rogue.” Joey shrugged. “I have some off time. I’m using that.”

Cade understood. This was exactly why he had taken retirement. His final hunt wasn’t going to be pretty. Whatever he had to do to get his man, he would. And he didn’t want anyone else to catch flack for that. “Going after an old enemy?”

“Going after the woman I love.” Joey’s smile crept back.

Cade smirked. So Joey had been just busting his chops all night about Bailey. Good to know—for Joey’s sake. “That serious, huh?”

“Serious as a Daisy Cutter.”

The BLU-82B/C-130 weapon system, nicknamed Commando Vault in Vietnam and then Daisy Cutter during the Afghan war, was the largest conventional bomb the military had. As serious as business could get, with a nine-hundred-foot lethal radius. “She in trouble?”

“Stuck in a Darfur refugee camp near the Sudanese border. She’s an aid worker.”

“I thought they weren’t letting foreign aid workers into those camps anymore.” Violence was rising in the region again.

“She’s looking for the kids of a murdered friend.” Cade could hear the worry in Joey’s voice. “She got someone to fly her in, bribed the man in charge and was supposed to fly out the same day with the four kids. That was a week ago.” His face went dark. “Haven’t heard from her since.”

“Could be they confiscated the plane and she had to find another way back.” Cade said the only optimistic thing he could think of, knowing that the reality of the situation was possibly much grimmer.

“The Sub-Saharan Security Council is visiting the United Nations this week in New York, trying to come up with solutions. If they fail, if they don’t get the UN resolution they came for…”

He could tell from Joey’s voice that that was exactly what everyone in the know expected to happen.

“All hell is going to break loose.” Joey drew a slow breath. “The talks will end tomorrow. I have to get there before that and get her out.”

“You’ll find her.” Hell, if he weren’t in the middle of his own mess, he’d go with him.

“You better believe it.” Joey hesitated a moment. “She might be—”

“She’s not. She’s fine.”

“Not that. I think she might be pregnant.”

Wow.
“Yeah?” He grinned at the kid, clapping him on the back. “Way to go.”

“I don’t know.” Joey looked dazed by the possibility. “She kind of hinted the last time we talked over the phone. I think she wanted to tell me in person, when we were together again.” He offered a tight smile. “Better get going. I’m flying out of Baltimore in a couple of hours. I’ll call you if I hear anything.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Although chances were slim that Joey would happen upon relevant information for Cade’s troubles while in the Sudan. He’d only been on two ops on that whole continent, both times in Nigeria.

Still, a small chance was better than no chance at all. And he desperately needed a break. “If you need me for anything, let me know. I’ll find a way to help.”

His cell phone rang just as he walked back inside. The display showed Carly’s ID code. “What’s up?”

“Am I on speaker?” was the first question she asked, which set off some alarm bells.

“No.”

“Good. Want the bad news or the bad news?” She went on without waiting for his answer. “Your pretty little friend there is not who she seems to be. Tie her up and bring her in.”

He glanced over at Bailey, who was looking at him curiously. That white tank top was going to be the death of him. Too tight, too thin, too everything. He could get into the tying-up thing. Definitely. But he didn’t think Carly meant what he was fantasizing about. Nor did Bailey look like she was ready to get naughty with him. A shame. “Tell me what you know.”

“I tracked communications to and from her PC. Wasn’t easy. That one gave me a run for my money. When you bring her in, I definitely want to talk to her. Hacker. First-rate.”

He stared at Bailey. She’d left him to his call and was now grabbing pillows for the futon, shaking out a blanket, all graceful innocence. And all he could think of was kissing her in the lake. He was harder than a billy goat in heat.
Look away. Focus on Carly.
“Are you sure?”

“It takes one to know one.”

Right. Carly had been a first-class hacker and had even spent time at a federal resort for it before she’d been recruited to the SDDU by Nick, who later married her.

“She hacked into some terrorist circles.”

That cooled him considerably. “What? When?” He felt stupider than shit all of a sudden. He’d been hoping Carly would find nothing but whimsical sunflower and bumblebee garden-flag designs. That was how far he was gone.
Come on back, boy. Return from the edge.

“Six weeks ago is the first trail I can see,” Carly went on.

Now he didn’t dare look at Bailey, didn’t want her to read something in his eyes. He wanted a moment to digest this before confronting her.

“The flight that went down? She claims she did that. Electromagnetic pulse box. Highly effective. Undetectable.”

“Impossible.”

“Not hardly. In any case, word got out, and there’s a bidding war over it.”

His head was reeling. “Who?”

“All the big players in the illegal-weapons game. You name it. And the communications definitely originated on the PC that had the hard drive you dropped off. It’s not a case of her accounts being hijacked remotely. She’s the one.”

He swore under his breath. The illegal-weapons market was getting out of hand. One man used to control it all, a guy named Tsernyakov. But since the SDDU took him down, the business had fragmented to a few of his top men, each player vying to replace him, doing his best to prove that he could be just as crazy, just as ruthless, just as violent. The situation was worse now than when Tsernyakov had been alive.

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