Check Mate (4 page)

"On whether or not my opponent plays by the rules."

"But the same principle doesn't apply for you, does it?" Jake said. "Working for the Coalition is definitely not playing by the rules. They're a rogue organization. A threat to our government."

"According to you."

"Are you telling me that a smart lady such as yourself actually believes in the Coalition's ultimate goals?"

"I believe in doing my job," Mariah told him, being as truthful as she dared.

"And just what is your job? To brainwash me into working for the Coalition?" When she didn't respond, he went on. "Don't waste your time. All the mind games you have in your repertoire won't work on me."

"I expect you to resist," she told him. "I've done my homework on you, Jake. I know everything there is to know about you."

Jake centered his gaze on her face, studying her closely. "You only think you know everything about me. You know facts. That's all. Height, weight, shoe size. Where I went to college. What I do for a living. Who my biological parents are. But, lady, you don't know me. If you did, you wouldn't even try getting inside my head. I won't let you in."

"Not willingly. But there are methods."

"I'll fight you, every inch of the way."

Yes, of course he would. She knew that about him, too, as she knew all those other facts about his life. He was a strong, stubborn man, who, like she, always played to win. And from what she'd read about him, his average was higher than hers. About ninety-five percent. He bested her by ten to fifteen percent. But this time, she had to win.

What Jake didn't understand—what she couldn't explain to him, at least not yet—was that both their lives depended on her pulling this deal off to perfection. Or at least as near to perfection as humanly possible.

"Why don't we just enjoy our meal together," Mariah suggested. "There's no need to discuss unpleasant matters tonight. I want you to rest, relax and try not to worry." Damn, Mariah, what an asinine thing to say to the man. He's been beaten, kidnapped, is being held captive and expects you to try to brainwash him.

Jake chuckled. "Just what are you willing to do to help me relax tonight?"

Damn man! He was as bad as Lester with his sexual innuendoes. Yeah, but there was one major difference—no way in hell would she ever fantasize about Lester making love to her.

"I'd be happy to give you a sleeping pill or—"

Jake laughed out loud.

Mariah hadn't blushed in at least ten years, but heaven help her, she felt the heat of embarrassment warming her cheeks. "You men are all alike. Take your mind out of the gutter, Mr. Ingram."

"Your mind must have been in the gutter, too," he told her. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have known why I was laughing."

Mariah stood, pushed the chair back into the corner, then walked toward the door. "I'll check on your clothes. They should be dry soon. Why don't you finish your supper while I'm gone."

"Say good-night to Lester and Burgess for me, will you? Tell them to sleep tight and not let the bedbugs bite."

Mariah huffed. "Did anyone ever tell you that you have a very warped sense of humor?"

Before he could reply, she escaped. Her plan to stay upstairs as long as possible this evening went up in smoke.

But she was running scared—away from Jake Ingram. Fending off Lester's unwanted advances was a piece of cake compared to indulging in sexual repartee with her captive.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial v
ersion, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html

***

Jake ate hungrily, finishing his sandwich and chips in a couple of minutes. As he toyed with one of the shortbread cookies, he thought about escaping. Not tonight. But soon. And if what he suspected was true—that Mariah was attracted to him—he'd just have to find a way to use her to implement his escape. Who knew if she might help him or even go with him? But persuading her could take days. Or longer. What he didn't have was time. No matter how well he managed to resist the doctor's mental probing, sooner or later, the Coalition would expect results. If Dr. Brooks couldn't manage to brainwash him, they would try other methods.

Before he could use Mariah, he had to get to know her, learn what her weaknesses were. On the surface, she didn't seem the type to join a group like the Coalition. But then he didn't really know her political views, her religious preferences, her heart's desire or her soul's passion. What he needed was a crash course in Dr. Mariah Brooks. And he'd often found that sex was the quickest way to become acquainted.

Sex. Jake harrumphed. He'd been celibate ever since Tara had ended their engagement. It wasn't that she'd broken his heart when she'd called off their wedding. Hell, he had postponed it several times himself, coming up with one good excuse after another. The bottom line was that Tara and he hadn't been right for each other. He'd never really looked beyond that successful, beautiful, cultured facade she presented to the world and seen the self-centered, self-serving bitch beneath the glossy exterior. Maybe he'd known all along that when the chips were down, Tara wasn't the kind who'd stand by her man.

Finding out that he'd been born as a result of genetic engineering had unnerved her. Oh, she'd hidden her revulsion well enough, but he'd known. He'd felt her rejection in his gut. She didn't want to be married to a freak, no matter if he did possess certain superhuman qualities.

It wasn't that he'd intended to swear off women and give up sex; he'd simply needed a little time to let the wounds heal. He'd thought he was in love with Tara. Hell, maybe on some superficial level, he had been. After all, the lady had looked damn good on his arm. She'd been the type of woman everyone thought a man in his position should have.

And perhaps the rich, willowy blonde had been exactly what the old Jake had deserved. But he was no longer the same man he'd been a year ago. He knew the truth about his heritage, had met his biological brothers and sisters, and was fighting the demons who had destroyed his birth parents and had manipulated their lives. Jake hoped he was a better person for the experiences he'd endured. Maybe the new, improved Jake deserved someone vastly different from Tara Linden. Someday. In the distant future. When he'd straightened out his life. When he and his siblings were safe. When the Coalition had been annihilated.

But before he could move forward into that idyllic future, he had to take care of his present problems. And the first order of business was escape.

Bide your time, he told himself. Let Dr. Brooks think you're playing into her hands, then manipulate her for your own purposes. No matter how attracted you are to her, never forget that she's the enemy!

***

With Jake's warm, clean clothes in her arms, Mariah said good-night again to Lester and Burgess. This time, Lester seemed rather subdued; no doubt the result of Burgess's previous warnings. At least that was one irritation she wouldn't have to deal with again this evening. But upstairs, waiting for her, was a situation she wasn't sure how to handle. Her intuition and training warned her that Jake Ingram was playing her, that he'd picked up on her attraction to him and was trying to figure out a way to use it to his advantage. But unless she had misjudged his feelings, Jake wasn't immune to her either. There was most definitely some chemistry there—like a live wire sizzling between them.

Why now? she asked herself. And why with this man? Wrong time. Wrong place. But the big question remained—

under different circumstances, would Jake Ingram be the wrong man? What does it matter? she asked herself. Deal
ABC Amber Text Converter Trial v
ersion, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html

with the problem. Don't let it get out of hand. She was a trained professional, not some homy, sex-starved woman out to get laid.

By the time she reached the door to the bedroom she would share with Jake tonight, she had herself convinced she could handle her overactive libido and do the job she'd been sent here to do. Even after getting another good look at Jake, who still sat in the chair at the desk, her resolve remained firm. After all, it wasn't as if he was the first good-looking man who'd ever come on to her.

She placed his folded garments on the foot of his bed. "You can get dressed while I take my shower."

"Aren't you going to handcuff me to the bed?" he asked flippantly.

"If you try to make a break for it while I'm in the shower, Burgess and Lester will probably shoot you. So I don't recommend an escape. At least not tonight." She tried for the same humor he'd used.

"All right. Not tonight." He scooted back the chair and stood, then walked across the room. "But maybe tomorrow night."

She shook her head. "Not tomorrow night either. Why don't you wait until I tell you when."

He gave her a puzzled look, then grinned, assuming she was joking. For just a moment she thought he was coming toward her, but he paused, glanced down at his clothes on the bed and said, "Are we going to bed soon?"

"What?"

"I was just thinking there would be no point in putting on my clothes if we're going to bed soon."

"Uh, yes, I—I see." Oh, great, Mariah, get tongued-tied at the mention of you two going to bed. He didn't mean go to bed together. Or did he? "You can just put on your underwear and get in bed. It's early, but I have a busy day planned for us tomorrow."

"I don't sleep in my underwear," he told her.

"What do you— No. Absolutely not. If you're accustomed to sleeping in the raw, forget it. Put on your shorts and T-shirt."

"Is that an order, Madam Warden?"

"Yes, that's an order."

When Jake sat on the bed, Mariah hurried to the closet, removed her pajamas, robe and slippers, then scurried across the hall to the bathroom. Once inside, she closed and locked the door, then stood there with her back braced against the door until her accelerated breathing calmed.

She took her time showering and washing her hair, hoping that when she returned to the bedroom, Jake would be asleep. After her shower, when she was drying her hair, she picked her watch up off the edge of the sink. Nine-fifteen.

Over an hour had passed. She groaned. Who was she kidding? Jake wouldn't be asleep. He'd be lying there in the bed next to hers, wide awake and waiting for their next verbal sparring match.

When Mariah opened the bathroom door, she hesitated, then reminded herself of who she was and the importance of her assignment. No way could she allow personal issues to cloud her judgment She marched into the bedroom, closed the door behind her and, deliberately not looking at Jake's bed, walked straight to hers. She removed her velour robe, tossed it on the foot of her bed, turned down the covers and placed her gun under her pillow.

"Even in those ugly flannel pajamas, you can't hide that great body," Jake said.

"I'm not trying to hide anything," she told him. "I'm trying to stay warm."

"If staying warm is a problem, I have a solution."

Her mistake was looking at him. He sat up in bed, his pillow against the headboard, his broad, bare chest totally exposed.

"Where's your T-shirt?" she asked. "You'll need it to stay warm." She used a hand gesture to request he not make any suggestions on how they could stay warm.

"I don't sleep in a T-shirt." He scratched his hairy chest. "The damn thing presses against my hair and makes my chest itch."

"Well, you're in the Arizona mountains in the dead of winter. I suggest you put on your T-shirt and scratch. It's better than freezing half to death."

As hard as she tried, she couldn't immediately remove her gaze from those broad shoulders, that muscular chest, those big, fined-toned arms or that washboard belly. Fully clothed, Jake Ingram was a handsome devil. Undressed, he was devastating.

Jake tossed back the covers. Mariah held her breath, uncertain whether he was wearing his shorts. Thankfully, he was. She sighed quietly. He jerked the white T-shirt from atop his jeans and plaid flannel shirt lying in a neat pile on the floor, then pulled it over his head. It was then that Mariah noticed the dark bruises along his side. Oh, God, he'd been severely beaten. When he glanced at her, his gaze narrowed and a hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth.

"You were wondering if I had on my shorts, weren't you?"

"They beat you," she said, her gaze fixed on his bruised side.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial v
ersion, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html

"Yes, ma'am, they did."

"Do you think you have any broken ribs?"

He shook his head; "I'm not in agonizing pain, so I figure my ribs are still intact."

"There was no need for them to do that to you."

"I'm afraid there was. You see, I resisted."

"Of course you did." Putting a damper on her desire, she rushed to him to check his bruises for herself, to make sure he wasn't badly injured. Bad move! She wasn't supposed to care what had happened to him. You're not playing your part very well, she told herself. Act unconcerned, dammit!