Dangerous Secrets (60 page)

Emotion streaked through him like a lightning
rod and he kissed her deeply. He held her close, feeling her softness,
imprinting her lines on him, slipping his hands over the satiny feel of her
nightgown, rubbing the backs of his hands over her breasts, swallowing the soft
breath of surprise that escaped her throat when his touch reached one of her
erogenous zones.

Jack felt himself grow hard. He wanted her.
Centuries must have passed since he’d last held her. And this could be the
final time. He knew he shouldn’t. He knew it wasn’t fair to either of them.
They should talk, but he couldn’t help himself. Pushing her down among all the
pink folds of the bedcovers, he kissed her shoulders, her collarbones, listened
for her short intake of breath that had become familiar when they made love. He
loved her, would always love her. He kissed her again, long and deep, his hands
buried deep in the richness of her hair. He couldn’t believe the way she made
him feel. Did other people feel like this? How could he ever have thought he
was alive before he met her? How was he to survive without her with him? She
wasn’t his other half. With them there were no halves, no quarters, no parts at
all. There was only a whole. Together they were one solitary unit, one entity,
one intensely burning flame that burst into being whenever they came together,
one single form of energy, packed densely as if the bonding between them was
now and forever.

Moving one tiny scrape of fabric no wider than
half an inch, Jack kissed the skin he uncovered. He repeated the action on her
other shoulder. Morgan’s arms slipped down Jack’s. He felt her fingers trail
over his skin. Jack pulled her up and released the straps from the prison of
her arms. The gown pooled at her waist, baring her breasts. Jack groaned when
he saw the clear, smooth skin that covered her from neck to waist.

Lowering his head, he kissed one puckered
nipple and was rewarded by her catch of breath and the arms that clutched his
head, holding him to her. Her nipple pebbled in his mouth. He listened to her
pleasure-moans, the sound driving him on.

She was so smooth, so soft. He wanted to know
every inch of her, touch her, taste her. He wanted to learn her secrets,
explore her caverns, and, once learned, return for a second pass. He wanted to
make that pass every day, include it in his daily routine, look forward to
waking in the morning and finding her with him.

Jack eased back and slipped the gown down legs
as long as Pennsylvania Avenue. He felt himself pressing harder against the
denim of his jeans with each inch of leg exposed under the pink covering. He
wanted to be inside her.

Pulling the zipper on his own pants, he rid
himself of them and joined her on the bed.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to live
without you,” he whispered in her ear. His hands slipped under her, taking her
hips and lifting her up to meet his entry. He closed his eyes, clenching his
teeth, clamping down on the pleasure that ran through him as he pushed himself
into her. Waves of pleasure splashed through him as he filled her, going deeper
and deeper with each thrust, driving himself into her until he thought he would
explode. Morgan moaned his name in his ear. She kissed him, kissed him all
over, holding him with her hands and then her legs. She circled him with those
unending legs. Jack had to have died and gone to heaven.

Jack nearly shouted. He couldn′t hold on.
He couldn′t hold anything back. He let her know through his body that he
loved her, with each thrust that he worshiped her, with each kiss that as much
as he might try, he could never forget her. He′d wasted so much time,
precious time. They′d spent a lifetime apart and they′d lived a
lifetime in the past two weeks.

Jack knew he was going to die here, today, in a
moment. Morgan was finally going to kill him. He couldn′t stop himself.
He no longer had the strength. Morgan had him clutched to her and he never
wanted her to let go. He felt his release. The wave built in him, overwhelming
him with the force of pleasure so strong that it would drive him to death. He
willingly went, followed Morgan, jumped with her, rode with her, carried her.
He was power and she was powerful.

Flipping her over, Jack traded places. She took
control immediately, although neither of them really had any. They were spurred
on by forces beyond their control, beyond explanation. Magic, voodoo, poltergeist,
Jack didn′t know which and didn′t care. He only knew that it
happened with Morgan and Morgan only. She was the catalyst, the fireworks
display, the woman of his dreams, the woman he wanted to go to forever with.
He′d never wanted to marry. Never thought of it fitting into his career,
but with her, it was constantly on his mind.

He buried his face in her shoulder, muffling
her name, as their bodies joined and rejoined. He burned for her and the
burning consumed him, seared them into one bright, white-hot light. Everything
and nothing mattered to Jack, except the passion that flowed between them. He
heard the primal sounds that must have defined the first couple. They were his,
mingled with hers. Together they pushed and pulled, circled the world and came
back to the beginning. Heat surrounded them, hot and white, erupting in wild
thunder, scorching their very souls.

Bewitched by this she-devil, enflamed by a
world without control, Jack felt the sparks of irresistible dynamite that
exploded the two of them in mutual climax.

Morgan collapsed on his chest. His breathing
was raspy, labored, hard, as was hers. He dragged air into his lungs, riding
the wave of pure sensation that tore through him. His arms tightened around
her. He repeated her name over and over, whispering it in her ear, running his
hands over her lithe body, over her incredibly long legs and over hips that
were made for the contour of his palms.

He didn′t know if he could ever describe
what she did to him, how she made him feel or even if they could repeat this
impossibly wonderful love that happened between them. He knew without a doubt
that he loved her, that he′d given her everything he had to give.

Even his headache was gone.

***

The horses fascinated her. Morgan had never
seen a horse up close. She never knew she liked them. She′d seen the
mounted police in Central Park in New York. And she′d seen horses pulling
hansom cabs during a short trip to Chicago, but none of those horses were as
beautiful as the ones running on the other side of the track. Morgan propped
her arms on the slatted fence and watched. They moved with sureness,
confidence, defying gravity as they danced in the morning sun.

‶
Do you ride?″

Morgan turned toward the voice. Jacob Winston
stood next to her at the fence. She hadn′t heard him approach. Her
concentration had been on the horses.

‶
I′ve never been on a
horse,″ she told him.

‶
Would you like to go for a
ride?″

‶
I don′t think so.″
She shook her head.

‶
You can go anytime you wish.
Just let them know.″ He glanced toward the stables.

‶
I will,″ Morgan smiled,
knowing she wouldn′t.
‶
I want to thank you.″

‶
For what?″

He put his foot on the bottom rung of the
fence. Morgan turned back to watch the majesty as horse and rider played with
the wind and the sun in the distant field.

‶
For getting me out of that room
yesterday.″

He smiled. Morgan liked him. She′d liked
his voice on the other end of the phone and the way he hadn′t argued with
her when she called and told him she needed information. He sounded concerned
for her safety then and she knew now that he did care about her. Why, she
didn′t understand. They didn′t know each other, yet he didn′t
look at her as if she′d gotten herself into this predicament and it was
his job to get her out. She glanced at the ring on his third finger. He was
married. His wife must be a very lucky woman.

‶
You needed time. Running for
your life is hard work.″ She laughed then, realizing she hadn′t
laughed in weeks.
‶
The Clarksburg location receives requests for more
than fifty thousand fingerprint matches a day. It was built for that purpose,
but it′s not set up for meetings that needed the kind of security yours
would.″

‶
Are we about to have that
meeting now?″

‶
Not out here. I came to give
you a message.″

‶
A message?″

Morgan′s hands tightened on the fence.
Was he about to tell her Jack was gone?

‶
Hart Lewiston wants to see
you.″

‶
I can′t.″ She bowed
her head, leaning it on the rough splintered wood, relieved that it
wasn′t about Jack.

‶
There′s a strong
possibility that when you leave here you′ll be going into permanent
protective custody. It might be your only chance to talk to him.″

‶
I′m not ready.″

Morgan had seen Hart′s face on
television. He′d looked at her from every newspaper from Missouri to
Washington, D.C. She′d heard his voice, knew his smile. She′d
watched him speak, knew the way he stood for the camera with his wife holding
onto his arm and smiling. She knew everything about his appearance, yet he was
a stranger.

Morgan had carried him, scooped him up and put
him in a kangaroo pouch, and like a trapeze artist, flown through the air with
him. Yet she wasn′t prepared to face the living individual.

How was she supposed to act? What did a grown
woman say when she met her father for the first time? Should she joke? Should
she be humble? Aggressive? Angry? Should she tell him she didn′t need him
after her mother died and she didn′t need him now? She was used to
surviving on her own. She could tell him she was onto his scheme, that she
understood his motives. That she knew he only wanted to use her as a pawn in
the Hart Lewiston political election machine.

‶
Just start with hello and see
where it takes you,″ Jacob brought her back to the present.

‶
You must be a father.″
She looked up at him.

He took a position at the fence like hers and
smiled and looked into space for a moment.
‶
My daughter is three.″

‶
She′s very lucky.″

‶
I′m
the lucky one. I can′t imagine life without her.″

Morgan saw where he was going.
‶
It′s
different with you,″ she began.
‶
You′ve been with your
daughter all her life. You two have a history together. It might only be three
years old, but for her it′s her whole life. Hart and I. . .″ She
faced him, spreading her hands.
‶
We have nothing.″

‶
You have something,
Morgan.″ He stared into her eyes, giving her the chance to remember.

‶
I saved his life,″ she
said.

‶
You could have died getting him
out of there,″ Jacob reminded her.
‶
He knows that.″

‶
He wasn′t even aware of
the escape in Korea. He′s never seen me, only the television image of a
scared teenager.″

***

The metropolitan area around Washington, D.C.,
which included this secluded Virginia landscape, was usually bathed in humidity
at this time of the year. Fortunately they were enjoying a brief period where
the air was warm and breathable. Yet the doors to the house were closed and the
air conditioning was running. Jacob stood with his back to the room.

The library of the safe house faced the paddock
fences where he had left Morgan. She no longer stood there. She′d stayed
for a while watching the horses as she had been doing when he found her. Then
she walked toward the stables. He waited for her to come back into his line of
vision. He assumed she′d changed her mind about riding.

She was safe here. Everyone on this property
had been hand-picked. Even the stable hands had security clearance.

‶
Is this what you brought me
down here for?″ Jacob heard as Forrest Washington′s voice. He
turned as two men came into the room. Jack was the second.

‶
Jacob, I′m glad
you′re here,″ Jack said.

Washington was carrying a single sheet of
paper. Jacob glanced through the window. Morgan came out of the stables. He
recognized the agent holding the reins of two horses. One was a gentle mare.
The hand helped her into the saddle and climbed on his own animal. Together
they left in a slow walk.

Washington handed him the paper. Jacob read it
and handed it back.

‶
You′re not
surprised?″ Washington asked.

‶
I knew,″ Jack said.

‶
It′s why I came
home,″ Jack said.

Washington turned and stared at him.
‶
You
came home to resign?″

Jack nodded.

‶
Well what stopped you?″
Forrest Washington was not prone to frequent anger, but Jacob recognized it
now.

‶
I met Jacob for lunch. Then. .
.″ He stopped.
‶
I got sidetracked,″ he ended weakly.

‶
I think you need a vacation.
Take some time to yourself,″ Washington began.
‶
The past few months
have been a nightmare. Then to come home and got caught up in this mess. You
need time to decompress, regroup.″

‶
I don′t need a
vacation,″ Jack shouted. For a moment the room was quiet. No one said
anything. Jack turned away then back.
‶
I want out, Forrest. I′m
going into witness protection with Morgan.″

***

The man sat back in the chair, his hands
steepled in front of him. He stared through the small triangle the hands
created. The appearance was calm, but his slanted eyes told different story. It
had been minutes since he said anything. He appeared to concentrate on the
walls. They were covered with silk prints of flaming dragons and ugly dogs. The
stones in the flooring were colored, tan and brown with a few red appearing
here and there haphazardly.