Promises in the Dark Page 10

  She nodded, forced herself not to grind against his hand; although that was all she wanted to do.

  He was going to make her come—over and over—and the thought of that was enough to push her over the edge a second time. His name on her lips, eyes on his, and the relief washed over her along with the rolling rush of pleasure.

  Her hands twisted in his thick, blond hair, and she forgot the heat, the trouble, let go of everything but the feeling of Zane Scott and his heavy arousal between her legs.

  Her heart drummed, her belly tightened.

  With that, she let go, her third climax pulsing through her like a freight train, full speed, with no chance of stopping.

  After the first, she hadn’t thought that would happen again—not as intensely. She’d known she was carrying pent-up frustration, but this—it was like her body would never stop shuddering, the release making her see stars, her toes curling.

  And Zane wasn’t done. He waited patiently, watching her. Enjoying her.

  “You were right. You do it better,” she managed, although her throat was raspy, her breathing barely under control … her body lighter than it had been hours earlier.

  He smiled then, his eyes darker with desire. “All three times?”

  “Yes, dammit, all three times.”

  He laughed then, softly. “Then you’ll like the fourth even better.”

  Her body tingled with anticipation and she wondered how he could bring her nerve endings under his control with simple words.

  Because he’s lived up to every promise he’s made so far.

  She heard a rustle and saw him rolling a condom on himself.

  He must’ve seen the surprise on her face, because he said, “Always prepared,” and she knew she would’ve let him inside her anyway, because all her caution had been tossed to the wind a long time ago.

  She pulled him down to her, brought his face close to hers for another kiss, because he hadn’t kissed her again since they were outside and she wanted his mouth on hers. Wanted to see if it had been the storm, or her hormones—or something else entirely. And when his tongue played against hers, she knew she actually still had the ability to feel.

  As he kissed her, he shifted his weight over her and she spread her thighs to him, letting him know that she was ready for him. When he took her, it was with one swift push, filling an urge so necessary she gasped against his mouth in what would’ve otherwise been a scream.

  “Tight, Liv … tight, wet for me,” he murmured, paused as if attempting to gain his composure.

  And then he gave up, drove into her with her legs wrapped fast around his waist, her hands gripping his back, and all she could do was hold on and let herself go.

  It was all she wanted to do.

  The pizza was frozen, courtesy of whoever stocked the safe house. Cael slid a plate next to Vivi and she picked at a slice absently while he polished off the rest for lack of anything better to do. And then he simply waited, restlessly.

  He hated not doing. Sitting. Watching.

  He’d always had situational awareness in spades. It helped him in so many ways throughout his life and never more than in his military career.

  It was goddamned exhausting being that aware all the time, but he couldn’t turn it off, no matter how hard he tried. He was always intense. Appeared hard-assed, even when he was attempting to be gentler.

  He was never more on than now. And it was a huge part of the reason he couldn’t sit still, was firing on all cylinders, and there was nothing he could do but sit and watch Vivi.

  According to Gray, the MPs had detained two men with no ID or authority to enter the post and contained them. Of course, they weren’t talking, not even with the encouragement of Noah and Mace.

  Their names were run through the databases and came up empty. That meant nothing—DMH was notoriously insular. Except for Elijah, who appeared to love seeing his name in print.

  Homeland Security scooped them up and now Delta would be hard-pressed to get any further intel—until, of course, the nation was at risk.

  To top things off, he still hadn’t heard from Dylan regarding Zane.

  “Stop,” she said suddenly.

  “Stop what?”

  “You’re pacing. Driving me crazy. Stop.”

  “Yeah, sorry,” he muttered, hadn’t realized he’d been up and moving. “Look, I’ll be right in the next room.”

  She didn’t make any move to let him know she’d heard. As he passed, he saw lines of code filling up the space on the screen and made a mental note to bring Gray to see if the man could figure out if Vivi was making any progress or just bullshitting all of them.

  But she hadn’t triggered his bullshit meter once. Other things, yes. Noah was right that Vivi responded to him, but he wondered if his CO had noticed the reverse was true as well.

  You’re getting soft, Cael. Soft and stupid.

  Damn, he wished he was doing more than bodyguarding.

  He could hack marginally well but Gray was the real geek of the group.

  Judging by Vivi’s rep, she would outstrip Gray of that title. She’d gotten in trouble in high school for hacking into the school’s database—not that she’d needed to change any grades, because her GPA was near-perfect, remained so through college. At least the first year she was there.

  If Vivienne Clare dated, it wasn’t frequently—she spent most of her time working.

  As he remained on the couch facing the double-paned, bulletproofed window, he could still hear the tap of the computer’s keys as he dialed Dylan.

  His brother picked up on the first ring. “Cael, what’s up?”

  What’s up? Jesus, Dylan and Zane spent far too much time together. He barely kept his voice controlled when he said, “You tell me, D.”

  “Zane’s got the doc. They’re a little off course right now.”

  “And you’re headed in to get them on course, correct?”

  Dylan cleared his throat. “It’s not that simple.”

  No, with Zane it never could be. “D—”

  “He says he’s okay. He sounds okay. I’m headed to Freetown now to wait for him.”

  Cael hated hearing the name of that damned place, and when Zane was safe and sound, he would kill Dylan for this. Really and truly. “After all is said and done, DMH still wants that doctor.”

  “Yeah,” Dylan confirmed, and Cael’s head began to throb. Again.

  If Vivienne could stop DMH—well, it would certainly help Zane peripherally, if nothing else. And it beat sitting here feeling damned helpless, as well as wanting to wring his little brother’s neck and hug him at the same time.

  So he made an executive decision—one that Noah had put on his shoulders anyway. Vivienne deserved to know what she was up against. “D, you call me when you hear anything, understand? Anything.”

  “Will do. Try not to worry.” Dylan hung up before Cael cursed at him and then moved on. It was time to fully work his angle.

  The biggest problem now was, his angle was currently crying.

  Shit. He couldn’t stand a crying woman. Mainly because he wasn’t any good at comforting. You needed something done, you came to him. You needed comforting, you were shit out of luck.

  But there was no one else around.

  Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she was just breathing heavily or something. He moved a few silent steps toward the kitchen, and yep, there was no doubt about the crying, although it was quiet—dignified even.

  For the most part, Vivi had remained calm and cool, even under interrogation. The irritability she’d shown was mainly due to low blood sugar. Even the initial grab and the fact that he’d had to hustle her off-base hadn’t seemed to throw her.

  She’d been collected enough to pass a lie detector test as well, although Caleb knew he could pass one when lying through his teeth, too.

  He wondered if she ever truly let go. Then again, he’d been asked the same question, albeit mainly by Zane.

  For the record, the answer was Hell yes.
Especially in bed. Because there was a time and a place, and bed was the time and the place. Well, so was the floor. The table. The car …

  Yeah, time to get his mind back in the game. “Vivi, is everything okay?” Possibly the stupidest question ever, but hey, better to start somewhere.

  She nodded, wiped her eyes and cheeks with the pads of her fingers. “What do you think?”

  She didn’t want to know, but now seemed as good a time as any to tell her. “I think I have some more questions for you.”

  She shrugged like she’d expected it, like none of this was a big deal. She was far too open to be holding any real secrets, as he’d suspected, but Mace’s suspicious nature had grown on him over time.

  Still, he’d thought it best to get her on solid, safe ground before he spilled what he knew to her. Having her flip out in the car wouldn’t have been good for either of them. And still, Mace’s distrust weighed heavily on him, and so he decided to give Vivi one last chance to come clean.

  He grabbed a soda from the fridge before he sat down next to her, his hands wrapped around the cold can of Coke. “Why is your house in foreclosure?”

  “I inherited a mess from my father,” she explained.

  “Legally, you’re not responsible for his debt after his death.”

  “I am if he opened up credit cards and equity lines in my name,” she said tightly. “I’ve thought about declaring bankruptcy but I’ll only do it as a last resort. I thought, with the new contract, I could at least keep the house.”

  That was pretty damned responsible, although from the brief look he’d had at her financial records, it was also a pretty pipe dream.

  The Army’s contract would’ve helped, but … “For a guy who lived off the grid, what the hell did he need all that money for?”

  “To live.” She shrugged. “He was never going to collect a pension, even though he’d worked for the government for over twenty years before he got fired. After that, he had no benefits and he refused to work for anyone, stayed self-employed. Software security’s not an easy business—programs sometimes take years to develop. I helped with them and worked part time outside the house through junior and senior years of high school, but it was never enough.” She paused. “I’ve lived with a lifetime of bad news, Caleb. And I have a strong feeling you’ve been holding back.”

  “There’s something you need to know. The attorneys you said you hired to advise you on the InLine thing … they’re gone.”

  “What do mean, gone?”

  “They’re missing. Completely. Like they never existed.”

  She furrowed her brow. Her hair was loose, a tangle of blond and blue tips that framed her face softly. She looked vulnerable, and more than a little afraid.

  He didn’t blame her. And it would get worse when he revealed just how out of control her life had gotten. “Is there anyone you can think of who knows about your father’s program, beyond the attorneys and InLine?”

  “No.” She gazed at him. “There’s more, right?”

  “We have reason to believe that your father’s software program’s been stolen.”

  “What do you mean? I was working on it this afternoon before you kidnapped me and you said you pulled a copy off my computer.”

  “It was copied, not wiped.”

  “What proof do you have?” she demanded.

  “Homeland Security heard chatter that a terrorist group has a program designed for InLine Energy that can be utilized to work their system at will. When questioned, the InLine execs mentioned your father’s name. They also gave the agents from Homeland a copy of the sample of the prototype your father had created for his proposal when he got the contract.”

  “Do you know who stole the program from me?”

  How was he going to explain all of this to her?

  Gently, he supposed, and that wasn’t his typical way. “We have an idea, yes.”

  “Just tell me, okay?” Her eyes were already wide with anticipation.

  “It’s a terrorist organization, a group called DMH,” he told her, and she shook her head. Didn’t know them. Or she was a damned good actress, as Mace would suggest.

  He dismissed that thought and filled her in. Told her things she’d probably never wanted to know, that yes, although they were once homegrown U.S., they now worked with many countries who hated the United States as often as possible.

  “This can’t be happening. It can’t. My father’s work—he would never want this, no matter how angry he was about what happened to him,” she whispered, right before she ran to the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her.

  He went after her, waited about ten minutes after hearing her get sick and flush the toilet before opening the door.

  She was lying curled up, facing the wall. When he leaned over her, she was sweating, pale and shaking. He grabbed a washcloth and soaked it in cool water before running it along her forehead.

  Her eyes remained straight ahead, practically unblinking.

  “Is that everything?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

  He thought about lying, because Christ, there was more, and maybe she shouldn’t know the more part yet.

  But, then again, perhaps she needed to know everything in order to understand that her entire life was on the line here. “Yes, there is.”

  She didn’t move, simply said, “Tell me.”

  “Someone broke into your house looking for you. It was about an hour after we took you away.”

  She nodded slowly, as if it had been something she’d thought of briefly but discounted. Now the truth was right in front of her and she had no choice but to accept it. “DMH?”

  “We believe so, yes.”

  “Then they must know about the safeguard,” she said quietly. “They think I can override it, and the irony is, even I can’t figure out how to make it work.”

  “You’re going to have to try.”

  “I know. Because I know what they can do. This program was developed to protect nuclear power plants from being hacked into and remotely set to melt down, but it can also be used to do exactly that. And it will be, from what you’re saying.”

  “We’re doing everything we can to prevent that from happening. You worked closely with your father for years—he didn’t talk about this program at all?”

  “He didn’t share this development with me, no. This was his baby—he didn’t want me touching it, and so I didn’t.” She shook her head. “I’ll do whatever I can to help. I’ll do everything I can.”

  “Good girl,” he said, surprised by the softness in his own voice. Couldn’t help but touch her cheek, and was rewarded with a small smile from her.

  “I need a toothbrush. Mouthwash,” she murmured.

  “There are supplies in the cabinet.”

  “I’m going to clean up some more. Is there anything else I can wear?” She motioned to the yoga pants she’d been wearing since he’d grabbed her from her house.

  “Yeah, I brought in some sweats.” He motioned to the cabinet next to the sink and she stood, ignoring his offers of help. He waited outside the bathroom, with the door partially open in case she fainted or something, while she freshened up.

  She’s got to know the extent of the ramifications—whether she’s responsible or not, Noah had told him.

  And now she knew.

  When she emerged about twenty minutes later, her hair damp, the sweats hanging on her slim frame, she looked less pale, but he could tell she was still stunned. “Sorry. It’s just … I have no one.”

  “You have me, Vivi.”

  The words slipped out before Cael had been able to help himself. She stood there in front of him like she wasn’t sure what to do next. And although she tried to stop her eyes from welling up again by closing them, she couldn’t. She took deep breaths, her hands fisted at her sides, and he did the only thing he could think of: He hugged her, and felt her immediate reaction of surprise, until she accepted the shoulder to cry on.

  She didn’t cry though, just
buried her face against him while he rubbed her back. Her breath hitched a few times, but he could practically feel her inner strength building.

  When she pulled away, he saw exactly that in her expression.

  Vivi had no one … and she wasn’t lying. He’d stake his job on it.

  She felt so good against him, warm and soft—and damn, this was really wrong … the wrong time with a woman he shouldn’t be getting involved with.

  But how the hell was anyone supposed to get in if he never let the gates down?

  “Caleb … Cael,” she whispered. “Make me feel safe.”

  He wanted nothing more than to do just that.

  “Make me forget …”

  “Vivi—”

  “I get it. This is for tonight. Or however long I’m here, in trouble. No strings attached.”

  Her face was so close, her breath warm, her lips pink and sweet, and falling into her, doing this, would be the best way out of thinking—worrying—for both of them.

  Instead, he put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back. “No, Vivi.”

  She nodded, flushed. “Sorry. It was stupid and I—”

  “I won’t take advantage of you, not after everything that’s happened today.”

  She gave a wan smile. “I guess I wanted you to.”

  He wanted to tell her he wanted to as well, but she turned away, and he waited a beat … and then the moment was gone.

  The driver was arguing with the men pretending to be police—men who’d set up a barricade in the middle of the road and wanted money … or to kidnap an American for ransom.

  Rowan did not like the way they were eyeing her, especially since she was the American in question.

  The country reminded her of Iraq—the war—except things were quieter here. Beyond the jostling around the harbor, once she found her ride and got on the road, she felt more at peace than she had anytime in the last six months.

  Of course, that wasn’t saying much.

  The driver was polite, had driven expertly through the crowds at the harbor and navigated the tough roads with ease. He’d provided her with water, told her they would be to the camp within a few hours and then turned on a tape of African music he played over and over again, until she knew the songs by heart.