Dead Ringer (34 page)

Vestiges of the old defiance crept into her jade eyes. "What makes you so sure?"

He kissed her. She tasted like all his dreams. Wild and incoherent, in heightened Technicolor and damned exciting. "Because I know you. For one, you're harder on yourself than anyone has a right to be. A damn sight more than she ever was. For another, you never quit. She was a quitter from the word go. A lost cause, only I didn't see it."

"But now your sight is clear?"

"Crystal. I'm looking at you, Angel. At you." He kissed her again, taking her mouth deep into his.

They made love again and he took her, eyes open, watching, seeing, letting her see him. Their climax erupted in full view of each other, the explosion of pleasure exposed on her face as he was sure it was on his.

Only then did his eyes close. He drifted off, still holding her, still inside her, and when he woke later, he found her tangled in his arms.

Gently, he extracted himself and leaned against one hand to watch her sleep. Shadows mottled her creamy skin, but didn't mar the serenity there. His heart squeezed. He wished she could look peaceful like this all the time. But the storm would break soon, and when it did, they'd need a plan.

He stroked her face, moving the hair off her cheeks and neck. He couldn't abandon the case, but he couldn't use her to complete it either. Not anymore.

He knew what Roper would say. He couldn't let his personal feelings get in the way. He'd done that once and paid for it.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. How the hell had she weaseled that sad story out of him? However she'd done it; it had worked. The weight he'd felt, the heaviness inside him whenever he thought of Suzy, had somehow lifted.

So how the hell was he supposed to stand there and let that slimeball Borian take Angelina to bed? He closed his eyes; the feel of her hot and wet and pulsing around him raced through his veins.

You do it by not thinking about that. You plant your damn feet and forget your damn feelings.

That was the only way they were going to find the plu-tonium and prevent a disaster. Angelina knew it. He looked down at the soft lips, gently curved now in peace and contentment, and knew if he ordered her to leave they would curl in defiance. She'd be right, too.

He stared into the darkness. What the hell was wrong with him? He was ready to sacrifice his case rather than hurt her. What's up with that? He thought he'd learned that lesson.

The answer shivered up from deep inside him.

You're in love, pal.

His breath caught, then started again. He smiled down at her, and the smile blossomed into a grin.

Jesus H. Fucking Christ

He was in love.

And he wasn't about to let the object of his affection crucify herself for him or his mission.

He had to get her out of there. The thought bounced inside him like a ricochet. At least she trusted him now. They were together; she'd see he was right. He settled beside her, trying to still the edgy jitter in his chest. She'd come to him freely, with genuine emotion. If he could make her do that, getting her to leave would be a piece of cake.

CHAPTER
20

Angelina woke slowly, thinking for a moment she was back in her mother's room at the ranch. Then she opened her eyes to lantern light and remembered everything. Beside her Finn breathed softly and a searing jet of happiness soared through her. She stretched, smiling into the dim glow, slid off the sleeping bag, and checked her watch. Nearly seven-thirty. A brand-new day. Idly, she wondered what Borian had done all night. She waited for the fear to well up; she damn well should be afraid. But she couldn't summon the energy. Not when the night had been so... so ... wonderful.

The shirt Finn had dropped hours ago still lay on the rock floor, and she slipped into it, letting the ends fall to her knees. Barefoot and wrapped in his clothes, she picked her way over the dirt floor and stepped through the scrub at the mouth of the mine to see what the morning looked like.

Sharp, cool air caressed her face, but the breeze had an edge of heat that promised warm weather. The mountain scents, full of pine and earth, smelled as fresh as she felt Like a new beginning.

She hugged herself, embracing the knowledge of what she'd done last night Capitulated to a man. Completely and totally. And instead of falling apart, she felt... whole. Young and clean. As if the girl she used to be had returned.

She rested against the side of the mine and looked out on the glistening morning, the granite mountains, and the silvery green scrub, and smiled. She couldn't stop smiling. It would be okay; everything would be okay. She closed her eyes and inhaled the day. Going back to Victor would be harder than ever, but at least now Finn would understand. He'd see they had no other options and she was just doing what she had to. What was right.

Footsteps sounded behind her, but she didn't turn. She didn't have to; she knew who it was. A burst of happiness exploded inside her. Finn came through the branches at the entrance and slipped his arms around her waist "Good morning."

"Mmm." She snuggled against him. "It is a good morning."

The oversized shirt slipped off her shoulder and he kissed the skin there. "For a tough guy, you're awfully eager to bare your heart to the world."

She smiled as his lips nuzzled the beauty mark. "Adele-my adoptive mother-used to say an angel kissed me mere. That's why she named me Angelina."

"And I thought it was because you were such a saint."

She laughed. "Yeah, well, I always wondered if she got it wrong. That maybe it was the mark of... of something else." The old, familiar doubts stirred inside her, but he turned her gently and his blue eyes kissed her with heat and affection.

"Believe in yourself, Angelina. I do."

Contentment bloomed over the qualms, smothering mem. And when he drew her into his embrace, she came willingly. His hands found the edge of her shirt, sliding upward over her thighs to cup her naked bottom. "How long has it been since you've seen her?" His voice was a low, hoarse murmur.

"Who?" She could hardly think with him stroking her like that.

"Adele."

"I don't know. Years. When I needed her most, she threw me to the wolves."

He nipped at her ear, sending sparks through her. "People make mistakes. Maybe she deserves another chance."

But she didn't want to talk about Adele anymore. Turning in his embrace, she saw his jeans were half zipped, splayed like an open invitation. The hard ridge beneath the material beckoned, and she slipped her hands into the opening.

He kissed her neck. "You're changing the subject."

"Just going with the flow."

"We don't have time; we have to go."

"Do we?' She gave him an innocent look and withdrew her hand. Or tried to. His own clamped down on hers, keeping her fingers wrapped around him.

"We might have a few minutes." His eyes held a mischievous glint

"I thought we might."

He pulled her back inside the mine and bracing his back against the mine wall, lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, impaling herself on him. The sex was sweet and hot, and she tumbled again, losing herself totally and coming twice. Afterward, he held her against him and she shivered with pleasure and amazement.

Finally, he set her down with a mock scowl. "Christ, woman, we can't stay here all day." He zipped up the jeans and took her hand, entwining their fingers like high school kids. He kissed her knuckles, his eyes sparkling over their joined fists. "Borian's got guys in Jeeps looking all over for you- It's a miracle they didn't check here last night, but they're bound to remember this place eventually."

Hand in hand he led her back to the campsite, where she examined her clothes. They were still damp but she put them on anyway, wriggling into her panties and laughing when he groaned and turned away.

She slid into the black jeans and pulled the tank top over her head. "So, do I just, what-show up back at the ranch?"

He'd been lacing up his hiking boots and paused to look up. "We're not going to the ranch."

"What do you mean? Isn't Borian there?"

"Probably. But I've got to get you out of here. We'll have to go up the mountain. I'll call Roper on the satellite phone and he'll have a chopper waiting." Finn finished tying his boot and rose to face her.

A chill skittered up her spine. "But I thought-"

"You thought what?" He picked up his gun, checked the clip, and shoved the weapon in the waistband at the back of his jeans.

"Nothing has changed," she said quietly.

He grinned at her. "After last night, everything has changed."

A small ache formed at the pit of her stomach. "Not about Borian. The Plutonium's still out there." She crossed to him and took his face in her hands. "I have to go back."

Beneath her fingers the lines hardened, his eyes freezing into blue ice. "I'm in charge here, remember? Going back is too dangerous; I'm not risking you. No arguments." He stalked off to pack the rest of his gear.

The ache grew deeper, and she put a hand to her stomach as if that could stop it. "If it wasn't me... if it were Jack or Mike or someone you weren't"-she paused, searching for a way to describe what had happened between them, but couldn't find those extraordinary words and had to settle for the mundane ones-"someone you weren't sleeping with, would you send them away?"

He hesitated for a fraction of an instant. "Absolutely," he said grimly.

But that tiny pause was all the answer she needed. She looked at him, sadness welling up. "I don't think so."

He was doing this for her; forfeiting his assignment to keep her safe. She saw it in the stubborn lines of his face, an expression that didn't quite hide his uneasiness and shame. He wasn't the kind of man to shirk his duty, but he would. For her.

Tears formed a lump in her throat, but she swallowed them. She couldn't let his feelings for her screw up his life again. Another woman he'd tried to rescue, ruining his career, his hope, his life. He'd never survive another wound like that.

After last night they were bound together, the two of them in a tight little bundle. And the only way to do what she had to was to cut him free.

So she shook her hair back, finger-combing the snorted thickness, and choked off the tenderness he'd created in her. "You think because we fucked that you can order me around?" His eyes narrowed, but she plunged on. "I've fucked a lot of men. It's what I do, remember? You're just one in a long, long line." She watched the hurt creep into his face, and the dead look that quickly covered it.
Forgive me.

"You came to
me,
Angel. That wasn't a game last night."

Her heart was breaking, the sharp, brittle pieces shattering inside her, but she threw him a pitying smile. "Wasn't it? I thought you were a better cop than that. Can't you spot a con when you hear it? I just told you what you wanted to hear."

He grabbed her arm. "Don't do this."

"Don't do what? Jesus." She shook him off. "Open your eyes, Agent Carver. One night of lust doesn't make us friends. It doesn't make us anything. But if you're a good little doggie, I might let you have another." She threw him a sultry look, tossed her hair, and laughing, walked out, hoping only that her legs would hold her long enough to get away.

Frozen, Finn stared at her retreating back, every word a knife in his chest. He was with Suzy again, coming home after two weeks in deep cover. Looking forward to sleeping in his own bed with his sweet new wife beside him. He remembered pushing open the front door and smelling the sweat and stale food, hearing her zoned-out laughter and a man's voice. His stomach had seized up then just as it seized up now.

Just one in a long line.

"No." He growled the word out loud, as though he needed the sound to confirm his refusal.
No.
Last night had been the most amazing of his life and nothing would convince him that Angelina had faked it. He knew her; she was reckless and didn't think enough of herself. She wanted to prove she wasn't as bad as she thought, as bad as he'd accused her of being.

She'd sacrifice herself to do that. Maybe she'd do anything to accomplish that. Even lie.