Undercover Virgin (19 page)

Her heart ached for the decent people she knew them to be and the price they'd paid for their integrity. It pleased her to know she'd brought Gregory a few steps closer to justice. She silently renewed her vow to see him punished.

"You look like your mother," said Kyle, gathering her in his arms and offering comfort, "but you have your dad's nose and you're built more like him."

"Thank you," she said, sniffling but making an effort to control the flow of tears.

Her mother had always cursed her short, round body, while her dad had been on the thin side. Rianna loved knowing she carried physical traits from each of them.

She
paused
the tape, rewound it, and then hit replay. Kyle never complained, watching the same few minutes of film over and over again.

His sensitivity and compassion touched her more deeply than she'd have thought possible. He just kept giving of himself, and she kept taking. She was so incredibly needy. Their relationship seemed too one-sided to be healthy, but she tried not to dwell on the negative.

When Rianna finally found the strength to shut off the VCR, she turned into Kyle's arms and pressed her mouth to his, trying to convey all the complexity of her feelings in one long, lingering kiss.

He responded, as always, with a need that matched hers. She wanted the sight and scent and feel of him indelibly printed in her memories, so she relished every touch and kiss.

Kyle accepted the intensity of her loving and responded in kind, equally intent on making memories.

Chapter 12

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L
ater, they cuddled in front of the TV, fed each other popcorn and watched a romantic comedy. Kyle said it gave him naughty ideas. Rianna laughed and agreed that they'd have to experiment a little, but maybe tomorrow.

"Are you telling me you don't want to make love again tonight?" he teased.

"Are you telling me you do?" she asked.

He took his time responding. "The spirit's willing but the flesh is weak," he explained, grinning.

The expression on his face made her laugh harder. "There's nothing weak about your flesh," she chided, knowing he was more worried about her being tender. "I'm willing to vouch for the strength of your body parts any time you like."

That brought back the wicked grin she loved so much.

"I'll remember that."

When they finally went to bed, they held each other close, mingling soft whispers with even softer kisses and caresses. It was another unique and wonderful experience for Rianna. One she knew she'd treasure the rest of her life.

They fell asleep in each other's arms, but her dreams were anything but peaceful. She dreamed of a house on fire, a raging inferno with black, billowing smoke and out-of-control flames licking at a
midnight
sky. Silent screams tore at her throat as she watched, terrified and helpless, while her family's home burned.

The dream had plagued her in the early years after she'd been orphaned, but now it took on a new and sinister twist. As she watched the house burning, she saw Kyle's face at a window. He stared at her, his expression accusing and filled with hate as the flames engulfed him.

Rianna fought her way out of the nightmare. Tremors shook her body until she could force the terror of her dream out of her mind. Soaked in sweat but chilled to the bone, she felt locked in a time warp. Forcing herself to breathe deeply, she tried to rationalize the horror her mind had conjured, but it didn't help.

Then Kyle's arms enfolded her, drawing her close to his side. He sensed her trauma and mumbled soft, reassuring words of comfort. His hands gently stroked her back and shoulders until some of the tension began to subside.

She finally relaxed, snuggling closer and basking in his tenderness. Her renegade was so incredibly special. She loved him beyond words and reason. She wanted to block out all the ugliness and take comfort in his arms, but she knew she wouldn't get another minute's rest.

When he'd drifted back to sleep, she stayed in his arms until his grip relaxed. Then she carefully slid from his side and climbed out of bed. Dawn was nearing, so she knew it wouldn't be too early to call Donald. She tiptoed into the living room and phoned his apartment.

He answered and they exchanged greetings, but he immediately sensed her tension. "What's wrong?"

"I think it's time for us to get Kyle out of this situation," she told him, her tone clipped and decisive.

There was a pause, and then Donald's response. "I agree, but I got the impression there's something special going on between the two of you."

"There is, but there's no way we can pursue it right now. Kyle's already given up too much. He deserves to have his life back," she insisted. "Have charges been filed against him?"

"No. I took care of it. The AUSA told Haroldson's lawyers the charges wouldn't stick."

"Then there's no reason Kyle can't go home."

"It's for the best. You don't need any distractions right now."

The thought of him leaving made her heart ache, so she suggested a way to make it easier. "I'm not going to give him a choice."

"Maybe you'd better tell me exactly what you are planning."

She could almost hear his frown, but that didn't deter her. "I'm going to be the one who leaves. I'll go on up the coast a ways." Rianna didn't mention her destination over the phone, but Donald would know.

Margaret Wilding had been her foster mother for a short time before the
Sullivans
had taken her in. Margaret had no blood relatives, but she was a surrogate aunt to many. Her house had always been considered an alternative safe house, since she had no traceable connection to anyone in the agency.

"You're going to drive my car?"

"If you don't mind."

"No problem. Take Special Agent Payne with you. He's young and won't mind being gone a few days. He's also smart and totally trustworthy. I'll let him know about the change of plans."

Now that the decision had his stamp of approval, she felt all sad and weepy again. She wouldn't cry. She was supposed to be a professional and this was a professional decision.

Clearing her throat, she said, "Thanks, Donald. I can't tell you how much it means to me."

"You just take care of yourself and call when you're settled. Don't take any chances, and don't worry about Tremont. I'll deal with him when he calls to raise hell."

"I'm sorry to dump it on you, but I'd rather leave without him knowing. He'll try to talk me out of it and make things even more complicated."

She didn't want to waste time arguing with Kyle. It would be hard enough to leave him. He'd be hurt, angry and probably hate her for taking matters into her own hands, but she could live with that as long as she knew he was safe. He needed time to rebuild his home and his life.

"Leave him a note so he doesn't freak out when he realizes you're gone. I'll explain when I get there."

"He'll be furious."

They both knew that was a gross understatement.

"Yeah. Can't say I blame him, but I've been a casualty of his wrath before and survived. It's part of the job description."

Rianna thanked him again, and then hung up the phone. The weight of her decision lay heavily on her heart, but she knew it was the right thing to do. It was the only solution at this point.

He'd be so disappointed in her, and that saddened her most of all. She'd lose his trust and respect, but he'd be free of the baggage she brought to the relationship. She didn't want him embroiled in months, possibly years, of legal battles to bring Gregory and his men to justice.

She wanted him to have a choice. It was the only thing she could give him, and it was important to her own emotional well-being. She couldn't live in fear of losing him the way she'd lost her family.

After quietly packing a suitcase, she took one precious minute to study his sleeping form. Her heart ached as she slipped out of the house into the darkness.

* * *

Kyle woke when sunshine poured into the bedroom. He slowly opened his eyes and blinked at the invading light, dragging himself from the deepest sleep he'd had in months. He stretched, enjoying the pull of his muscles as he worked out the stiffness.

His morning arousal throbbed into life, garnering his full attention. A deep, anticipatory smile creased his face and a deeper yearning settled into his gut at the thought of burying himself in the sweet, passionate woman at the side.

Then he reached for Rianna.

She wasn't in bed, which dampened his spirits considerably. He wanted a kiss and
a snuggle
and some special loving to start their day. He'd gotten really fond of having her in his arms.

Tossing back the sheet, he climbed from bed and headed for the bathroom, hoping to find his ladylove close by. He didn't hear the shower running, but she could be naked and need some help getting dry. His smile returned at the thought.

But the bathroom was empty with no evidence that Rianna had recently showered. After brushing his teeth and splashing some water on his face he went back to the bedroom and pulled on a pair of gym shorts. Then he followed the smell of freshly brewed coffee to the kitchen, thinking she must be cooking some breakfast for them.

But the kitchen was empty, too, and the coffeepot had a timer. There was no beautiful woman waiting for him.

Suddenly, all the hair on his body stood on end. He tensed, his body going rigid as he realized how unnaturally quiet the place seemed. There was no sound indicating the presence of anyone else in the house.

"Rianna!"

Fear surged through him as he yelled and tore through the house searching for her.

"Rianna!"

How stupid could he be? He should have realized she wasn't here the instant he woke alone. He continued to yell her name as he did a room by room search, checking closets, the basement and attic until he grew hoarse and there was nowhere else to check.

Retracing his steps, he looked out windows, checking the grounds, trying to convince himself that she'd just slipped outside for a minute. He opened the kitchen door and yelled for her again.

She didn't answer, and the silence caused a new upheaval of panic. Had Haroldson's men gotten past the other agents? Could they have snatched her from the house without him knowing? How could he have been so stupid? He'd relaxed his guard too soon, too much, and had slept like the dead.

He'd failed her again, and his chest constricted at the thought of her being alone or at the mercy of Haroldson's goons. He had to find her.

"Rianna!"

Fear and pain mingled in the frantic repetition of her name. What if the agents outside were unconscious or dead? He reached for the phone, quickly punching in the beeper number for one of the guards. Then he held the receiver to his ear and waited for a response, hoping there would be one.

When the phone rang, he growled his relief at the caller. "This is Tremont. Where the hell is Agent Sullivan?"

The reply came hesitantly. "Would that be the deputy director you're looking for, sir, or Special Agent Sullivan?"

Kyle ground his teeth in frustration at the man's calm question. "Special Agent Sullivan. You're supposed to be guarding her, remember?"

"No, sir," the agent replied quietly. "Special Agent Sullivan left a couple of hours ago with Special Agent Payne."

"What do you mean, left?" he shouted, body shuddering as his temper shot upward. "Where the hell did they go? The grocery store? She's not supposed to leave the house without armed guards. Why the hell would they risk going anywhere?"

"That I don't know, sir. My orders are to stay here and make sure nobody gets close to the house. You'll have to call the deputy director if you want details."

Kyle swore viciously as he jammed the receiver down and then lifted it again for a dial tone. He punched in Sullivan's private number,
then
waited the interminable time it took for the other man to answer.

"Sullivan."

He didn't waste time with pleasantries. "Where the hell is Rianna? I can't believe you let her leave this house. Have you lost your mind!" he exploded.

"You're always so cheerful in the morning, Tremont."

Sullivan's attempt at lightness didn't impress him. "Your man outside said she left with Payne. What the hell is going on?" he snapped.

"We decided it was time for her to move to another safe house."

"You what?" Kyle knew he was losing it. He was yelling at the top of his lungs because he could barely draw air into them. A suffocating tightness had settled there.

"You moved her without clearing it with me? You let her sneak out of here in the dead of night with one young, inexperienced agent? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"We decided it was best," Sullivan explained patiently.

Kyle heard the sympathy in his voice, and it chilled him to the bone. "Are you saying Rianna agreed without an argument or a word of goodbye?"

"She said she'd leave a note."

That didn't reassure him in the least. "I want to know where she went." His tone went cold and implacable.

"You know I can't tell you that."

"Can't?" Kyle's response was feral, but he knew he was wasting his time. He slammed down the phone and starting prowling the house again, looking for the note Rianna was supposed to have left him.

He found it on the telephone stand in the living room. A plain white envelope bearing his name was propped against a flower vase. Hand trembling, he reached for it and tore the envelope to get to the scrap of paper inside.

Dear Kyle,

I'm sorry to leave so abruptly, but it was time for me to move to another safe house.

Please go home and take care of your house and business. I promise I'll have Donald keep you apprised of the agency's case against Gregory.

Thank you so much for keeping me safe. I'll be forever grateful that you were the one who helped me escape and begin to heal.

Yours, Rianna

Yours, Rianna?
Kyle raked a hand through his hair, shaking his head in rejection of that. She wasn't his and never had been, except maybe in his mind. If she really cared about him, why wasn't she here?

Why had she slipped away in secret to escape him? Had he gotten too close to her heart or had she just feared he was beginning to care more than she could ever reciprocate?