The Maze (ATCOM) (10 page)

Letting
out a shaky breath, she made her way back to bed and buried herself beneath the
blankets, mind reeling.

Noah
gave her plenty more things to think about besides her fear of the dark. It was
some time before she was able to fall asleep.

Chapter
9

The
weight of her lover’s body pressed Attie into the mattress with a familiarity
that both comforted and aroused her. His hands were buried in her hair, his
mouth tracing a fiery path down the column of her throat. She turned her head
to the side to allow him access to her earlobe and shivered when the tip of his
tongue traced the moon-shaped scar behind her ear. No longer cold, she was on
fire, threatening to spontaneously combust if he didn’t relieve this tension
soon.

She
curled her fingers around his bicep marveling at its thickness, her mind coming
up with all sorts of ways she could put that muscle to use. Her hips arched and
she felt his arousal press intimately back. How long had it been since she’d
felt like this? Had she ever felt like this? Not in real life, only in her
dreams. She couldn’t see his face, simply knew him, and wanted him.

Her
hand smoothed its way over taut flesh, muscle and bone. He was smooth and hard,
muscular and lean, his strength subtle yet overwhelming at the same time. He
knew how to touch her to elicit the strongest response, knew where to caress to
drive her to the brink, only to ease off and deny her what she so dearly
wanted. He teased, he caressed, and he loved like no other until she spun into
an alternate universe from her need for him.

“Please,”
she pleaded to her phantom lover, her hands frantically exploring all of him.
He was a fine specimen of a man, one she was proud to call her lover, for he
was a master of seduction.

“Open
your eyes, Attie. We have company.”

Attie’s
eyes flew open and were immediately blinded by a bright light. She winced and
turned her head away, blinking rapidly. Her head struck something solid and she
stiffened, realizing she hadn’t been dreaming at all. Noah lay on top of her,
aroused, not looking at her.

Reality
hit her like a ton of bricks and the bottom fell out on her. Noah had been
seducing her while she slept, and she’d been ready to make love to him. By God,
she would never sleep again. All it did was get her into trouble.

“Sorry
to interrupt,” an unrepentant male voice said from the other side of the bed.
“I would have thought the two of you had gotten this out of your systems last
night.”

Attie
turned her head away from Noah’s shoulder to glare at Carlos. She wanted
nothing more than to push Noah off her, but they were still under pretense of
having spent the night together so she gritted her teeth and pretended she
didn’t mind him there. Who was she fooling? Carlos stood at the foot of the
bed, looking every bit the debonair drug lord she remembered from her past. He
wore his preferred designer shirt and trousers impeccably tailored and
flattering to his lean form. His smile lacked warmth, and an underlying emotion
she couldn’t read lurked below the surface. Behind him stood four armed guards
who couldn’t seem to take their eyes off her. Waiting for a peek at what was
under the sheet.

“Ah,
good, I have your attention,” Carlos said. “I trust you had a pleasurable
night?”

“Could
have been better if—” Attie began, but Noah’s arm tightened around her and cut
off the rest of her sentence.

Carlos
went on to say, “I have something for you.”

Attie
stiffened. A gift from Carlos wasn’t something she wanted. She’d learned to
dread his gifts. Noah shifted putting more of his body between her and Carlos.
Why couldn’t he get it through his thick skull that she didn’t need his
protection? She had handled Carlos alone for months while undercover.

Noah
didn’t believe it, though. He’d made that clear last night. He thought she was
a mess. It stung.

One
of the guards moved forward upon Carlos’s consent. In his hands were two stacks
of clothing and two pairs of combat boots. Attie frowned, recognizing the items
from their packs.

“A
pair for each,” Carlos said as the man set them on the foot of the bed. “You
see, since I found out who you were, I’ve entertained a fantasy of seeing you
in uniform, in action. I’ve seen you in the finest gowns money can buy, but
never like this. I’m looking forward to it.”

“You’re
joking, right?” she scoffed, uncomfortably aware of Noah’s hard body pressing
her into the mattress.

“You
know I never joke. Come now, you’ve got a busy day ahead.”

“Doing
what?”

Carlos
went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “First, you eat. The two of you must be
famished. I’ll give you thirty minutes to get dressed.”

With
that he turned on a heel and led his men out of the room.

Once
the door closed, Attie pushed against Noah’s chest. “Show’s over. Get off me.”

When
he didn’t move, Attie glared at him, unprepared for the heat she saw burning in
his eyes.

“I
thought we’d finish what we started,” he said in a low, husky voice that was
far too intimate.

Attie
tamped down the excitement pulsing through her veins. “In your dreams.”

Noah
grinned and her Earth tilted on its axis. He dipped his head to whisper in her
ear. “No, in yours.”

The
promise in those three words made her shudder. She wasn’t going there. Carlos
had something planned. No time to indulge. And even if there had been, she
couldn’t. Too dangerous. Almost more dangerous than the man who’d just left the
room.

“I
want to take a shower. Alone. Get off.”

This
time he rolled off her and onto his back, stacking his hands behind his head.
His arousal was evident under the thin sheet that covered him from the waist
down. She tore her gaze away, ripped a blanket off the bed, wrapped it around
her, grabbed her clothes and stalked into the bathroom. If there had been a
door to slam, she would have. Instead, she stripped out of her clothes with
jerky movements, surprised she’d still been dressed. Another few minutes and
she wouldn’t have been.

Damn
the man. How did he continuously throw her off balance? There could never be a
relationship between them, no matter how strong the chemistry. Noah Kincaid
ruined her career. She hated that she was a mass of nerves, strung tight with
tension only sex would relieve.

Catching
her reflection in the mirror, she grimaced. It would be a long time before she
let a man know her intimately again. She mourned the loss, but she wasn’t ready
to expose herself like that yet. Maybe never. It had been dark when Noah
seduced her; he couldn’t see the scars. He didn’t know what she really looked
like. She’d been covered in dirt and blood when he found her in that cell. He
didn’t see everything Carlos had done to her.

Now
she was healed. He didn’t know what she looked like beneath her clothes. No one
did, and she planned on keeping it that way. There would be too many questions
she couldn’t answer. With Noah, she wouldn’t have to, a devious part of her
mind argued. He already knew how she’d gotten the scars. But, he didn’t know
everything. And she was never going to tell.

Angry
at herself, at Noah, at Carlos, and the entire situation they were in, Attie
turned away from her reflection and stepped into the shower. She let the water
pound away her emotions. It worked on her anger, but not her arousal, so she
turned off the hot water and cursed Noah as icy cold spray pelted her
shoulders.

* * * *

Noah
listened to the shower run and took the time to regain control of his raging
libido. Of course, knowing Attie was naked in the shower didn’t help. After
having her beneath him, responding to his touch, he struggled to remain in bed
when all he wanted to do was join her and finish what they’d started.

He’d
earned the nickname The Rock when he was a SEAL and it had followed him when he
was recruited into ATCOM. He’d earned it because nothing fazed him. His brother
possessed the same steadfastness and it served him well as a member of the
FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team.

He
shouldn’t be distracted by this attraction. Too dangerous. For both of them. He
needed to concentrate on Santiago.

Stow
it away, Kincaid
. He buried the thoughts somewhere deep.
His body wasn’t as cooperative as he rolled out of bed and quickly dressed.

The
shower turn off and Attie moved around in the bathroom.

A
few minutes later she walked out. He could understand Santiago’s fantasy. Attie
took the ordinary drab military green and turned it into pure sex appeal. A
transformation had occurred in the time she’d spent in the bathroom. Her hair
was now pulled back into a sleek ponytail, her expression one of grim
determination. She walked with a confident, stubborn set to her shoulders. The
black tank top hugged her slender figure and was tucked into a pair of fatigue
pants that molded her long legs. She looked ready to take on the world. His
chest swelled with pride. Attie was one tough cookie. She stood up in the face
of adversity and didn’t back down. Santiago had broken her body, but not her
spirit.

The
door opened and she walked past him. Two guards motioned him to follow.

A
breakfast fit for kings was laid out for them when they arrived. Noah was
learning Carlos Santiago had a flair for the extravagant. Everything he did was
part of his grandstanding.

They
sat in their chairs at Santiago’s request, but he stopped Attie before she sat.

“No,
not yet,” he said. “Let me look at you.”

Attie
stopped, waiting impatiently for Santiago to finish his inspection.

Nodding,
Santiago said, “You are stunning. I like this look on you. Sexy. Confident.
Assertive. Have you any idea how captivating you are?”

“I’m
sure you’re going to tell me.”

“Well,
I must admit, you have provided me with a visual fantasy that will sustain me
for a lifetime.”

“Can
I sit down now or would you like to stare at me a little longer?”

A
chuckle. “Ah, there’s that spunk I’ve grown to enjoy. You are going to bring me
much joy. I can’t tell you how pleased I am.”

Noah
didn’t like the sound of that, and judging by the look on Attie’s face, neither
did she. Santiago finally let her sit and they ate their fill of the bounty
laid out before them, knowing it may be their last meal. With Santiago they
couldn’t be too sure.

“You
like my coffee?” Santiago asked as Noah filled his cup a second time. “It lacks
the bitterness you Americans seem to prefer.”

“Home
grown beans, Carlos?” Attie asked, taunting. They had burned his fields after
her rescue. A man like him would rebuild quickly, they knew that, but it burned
all the same.

“Ah,
yes. You’re talking about the fires you left burning after your bold escape
last year. I’m sure you are aware of what I lost in that little event. I still
get upset when I think about it.”

“Millions
of dollars are what you lost.”

Noah
sipped his coffee, listening and watching.

“Fields
can be replaced. I was referring to losing you.”

“You
never had me.”

Santiago
leaned forward. “The day I discovered your true identity is the day I lost you.
It broke my heart. I had such grand plans for us. There is a price to be paid
for your betrayal and it’s time to settle the debt.”

Noah
blinked and looked around the room as it started to spin. Son of a bitch.
Drugged. His eyes began to blur and his head started to swim.

Damn.
The coffee. He should have seen it coming.

He
shoved back his chair, thinking to get to Attie, but he didn’t make it.

The
room went black.

* * * *

Attie
leapt out of her chair and stared down at Noah’s prone form. From where she
stood she couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not. For a moment she stood
paralyzed, waiting for him to get up. But he didn’t. He lay there, not moving.
Noah was a rock. No one had ever gotten the best of him. He was always there,
strong and steady, never wavering.

Terror
gripped like a cold fist around her heart. She refused to believe Carlos would
get rid of Noah. Not like this. It went against everything Carlos craved. Too
easy. Too clean. He’d said Noah would play a part in whatever he had planned.
Unless he changed his mind, which wouldn’t be unlike Carlos. He did whatever he
pleased and no one stopped him.

Something
snapped inside her and she grabbed a butter knife off her plate before lunging
across the table, thinking only of Noah and his blood staining her hands.
Dishes crashed to the floor and shattered, silverware flew in all directions.
She didn’t heed the warning issued by one of the guards. All she could think
about was driving the knife through Carlos’s black heart for doing this to her.
She had lost so much because of him. This time he wasn’t getting away with it.

Her
boots slid across the table as she launched herself at Carlos, knife poised for
attack. She got as far as the edge before she was grabbed from behind and
dragged back. A glass broke beneath her flailing hand moments before her cheek
was slammed onto the table. She winced as glass shards pierced her skin. Her hand
was twisted, palm up, until she thought her wrist would snap, but still she
held tight to the knife. A hand held onto the back of her head and pushed her
cheek onto the table while another held her hands. She gritted her teeth when
glass cut deeper, and watched Carlos circle the table until he stood in her
line of vision.