Bounty on the Rebel's Heart

Bounty on the Rebel's Heart [Incognito Series Book 3] by Karen Wiesner Whiskey Creek Press www.whiskeycreekpress.com ...

Author: Wiesner Karen

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Bounty on the Rebel's Heart [Incognito Series Book 3] by Karen Wiesner

Whiskey Creek Press www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Copyright ©2007 by WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to others. This eBook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.

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BOUNTY ON THE REBEL'S HEART: Book 3 of the Incognito Series by Karen Wiesner WHISKEY CREEK PRESS www.whiskeycreekpress.com

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Published by WHISKEY CREEK PRESS Whiskey Creek Press PO Box 51052 Casper, WY 82605-1052 www.whiskeycreekpress.com Copyright © 2007 by Karen Wiesner Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. 4


ISBN 978-1-59374-739-8 Credits Cover Artist: Karen Wiesner Editor: Dave Field Printed in the United States of America

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WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT BOUNTY ON THE REBEL'S HEART "...Once again the masterful pen of Karen Wiesner has written a powerful novel. The romance between the two main characters is sexy and hot. The idea that The Network could actually exist is an intriguing one. As the tale of Reb is brought to a satisfying end, the reader cannot help but wonder whose story will be told next. I am always anxious to read what the fertile mind of Karen Wiesner has produced. She is a masterful storyteller and needs to be on everyone's automatic buy list." ~Reviewed by Dawn Myers for Writers Unlimited "...BOUNTY ON THE REBEL'S HEART is a good tension builder. It is also mysteriously intriguing. The thrill of wanting to know what lies beyond each page became an excursion. It was like reading a spy novel. You, the reader, are about to embark on a journey into a marvelous adventure, filled with great action and suspense, that only Karen Wiesner could formulate." ~Reviewed by Wanda Maynard for Sime~Gen "...BOUNTY ON THE REBEL'S HEART is the third in Karen Wiesner's wonderfully fascinating Incognito Series. Ms. Wiesner has a talent for delivering well-delineated characterization along with a suspense-laden plot that will keep the reader guessing through the myriad twists and turns. Nothing is ever what it seems, and the reader will find herself racing through the book to uncover one denouement after another. Once again, I highly recommend Ms. Wiesner's 6


novels, the Incognito Series, and BOUNTY ON THE REBEL'S HEART. This is an author never to be missed." ~Reviewed by Euro-Reviews "...The third Incognito Series book (see NO ORDINARY LOVE and UNTIL DEATH DO US PART) is a terrific suspense thriller filled with superb characters and plenty of plausible exciting twists that keep the audience reading to learn what happens next, especially to Reb and Natalie. Though BOUNTY ON THE REBEL'S HEART can stand alone as a fabulous actionpacked tale, fans will want to know how Reb and Giles got to the point where both are hiding. Karen Wiesner has another triumph in a winning series." ~Reviewed by Harriet Klausner for SimeGen "...From the Incognito Series by author Karen Wiesner, Book 3: BOUNTY ON THE REBEL'S HEART is another compelling "to die for" story! Trained operatives of the covert organization, The Network, deal out absolute justice when government organizations and the law fail. Natalie Francis runs against the clock to unearth the evidence. BOUNTY ON THE REBEL'S HEART is a fabulous read—as addictive as the first two book in the series, NO ORDINARY LOVE and UNTIL DEATH DO US PART. The [Incognito] Series would make a great TV series. A heart stopper filled with action!" ~Reviewed by Pamela Faye for Rolling Seas Reviews "...This is another great story by Karen Wiesner. The characters she creates are so bold and full of life that you expect them to jump off the pages and the world they live in is so vividly portrayed that you feel like you are experiencing it right along with the characters. Bounty On The Rebel's 7


Heart is a book you won't want to miss. It's so full of danger, passion, and suspense that will keep you reading long into the night." ~Reviewed by Tammy for Fallen Angel Reviews

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Other Books by Author Available at Whiskey Creek Press: www.whiskeycreekpress.com Tales from the Treasure Trove, Volume I (An Anthology with Karen's traditional romance, "The Amethyst Angel") Tales from the Treasure Trove, Volume II (An Anthology with Karen's futuristic romance, "The Amethyst Star") Tales from the Treasure Trove, Volume III (An Anthology with Karen's romantic thriller, "Revenge in Amethyst") Small Gifts (An Anthology with Karen's inspirational romance, "A Home for Christmas") Treasures of the Heart (An Anthology with Karen's contemporary romance, "A Rose for Romeo") No Ordinary Love Until Death Do Us Part

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The Network The Network is the world's most covert organization with underground headquarters in Chicago beneath a front technology company called ETI. Having unchallenged authority and skill to disable and destroy criminals, the Network takes over where regular law enforcement leaves off in the mission for absolute justice. The price for that justice is high, requiring the life of every man and woman who serves. For them, there is no life and no love, only duty. Organizational Hierarchy Oversight Committee: #1 (1st in Command): Chase Giovanni, Head in Washington, D.C. Level 1 Operatives: #2 (2nd in Command): Captain Shannon McKee, Liaison between Oversight and the Network #3 (3rd in Command): Angelo Pluzetti, Head of Operations #4 (4th in Command): Captain Ron Blair, Master Strategist #5 (5th in Command): Hunter Savage, Head Team Leader/Mission Coordinator Level 2 Lead Operatives: Jocelyn Dominica, Psychiatrist Rockwell "Vlad" Vlademar, Weapons Master Cara "Inspector Gadget" Ross, Technology Justine Fielding, Comm & Systems Analyst Dr. Celine Savage, Medical Level 3 Field Operatives: Alpha Team: 10


Kirsten Ulrick, Leader** Ashton Barnett, 1st Position** Beta Team: Noah Harlow, Leader Rhiannon Murray, 1st Position Level 4 Field Operatives: Kyle Vincent, Red Team Leader (MIA)* Dez Luttino, Green Team Leader Level 6 Field Operatives: Natalie Francis, 5th Position, Green Team *No Ordinary Love, Book 1 of the Incognito Series **Until Death Do Us Part, Book 2 of the Incognito Series

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Chapter 1 The rural farmhouse was exactly where she expected to find it—smack-dab in the middle of nowhere. The yard had all the requisite junk cars and spare parts she'd anticipated, with multiple barking dogs sending up their warnings as soon as she came into sight in her compact car. She sensed eyes gazing on her from the house as she got out, and she looked around without hurry. Tense excitement—that it was about to begin—filled her. Calming the dogs with a soothing greeting, she let them sniff her before she petted them. Then she proceeded, unhindered, to the cluttered porch. She could see stained and tattered curtains drop back inside as she knocked on a door in desperate need of new paint. When the door opened, her gaze moved from the height of the adult she'd anticipated seeing down to a kool-aidmoustached, freckled and cowlicked boy peering up at her through the screen. The scent of fried chicken, buttery biscuits, and fresh corn made her realize suddenly just how hungry she was. But she needed information more than food. Besides, she wasn't sure she'd be welcome. The matriarch—matriarch according the files she'd read about the family—appeared suddenly. Jolie Porter was a short, plump, older lady. She wore her graying hair in a messy bun at her nape. "Can I help—" Jolie started to say, and then recognition flooded into her reddened face. "Adrienna? Adrienna Kelly?" 12


Adrienna jumped back to avoid the screen door, which flew open inches from her face. "Well, gosh, we never expected ... Come in! I can't believe it's you. It's been so long, and look at you. Just the same as always." Engulfed in Jolie's arms, Adrienna intuited the hug was as much about relief as welcome. Adrienna, as she wished to be known, walked into the kitchen. "Jolie, I'm looking for Reb. I've searched everywhere, and he's all but dropped off the face of the earth. Yours is basically the only place I haven't looked. Have you seen him?" Jolie waved away her question. "There's time for that later. You look famished. Come in and sit down. Have dinner with us first. Then we'll talk." The no-nonsense tone of Jolie's voice made her aware there was no way she was getting out of the place until she'd been sufficiently stuffed with Porter hospitality. Figuring it was the quickest way to get what she wanted, she made no argument. Reb's aunt eased her inside the house, into the massive dining room where the family ate dinner. "Everyone, look who's here. Rebel's old friend Adrienna Kelly. Remember the summer she spent with us years ago?" The faces were familiar from the files she'd read. Jolie's husband—Reb's uncle—looked like he'd spent every single day of his life working his fingers to the bone. The oldest daughter—someone who would have known Adrienna—was 13


present with two teenage boys, a teenage girl, and the little boy who'd opened the door. Three farm workers were also at the huge table. Overwhelmed by their warm, almost giddy welcome, she felt a little dizzy as Jolie bustled out and back into the room, gently urging her into a chair before laying down a place with another plate, utensils and a glass. During the delicious meal she found herself devouring eagerly, she kept reminding herself why she was here as she handled the flood of questions about what she'd been up to in the past twenty years. At one point, Jolie mentioned it was a pity Reb didn't talk about her much anymore. The fact that no one seemed uncomfortable with her presence was curious to her. Clearly, they knew nothing of her bitter parting with Reb. Adrienna pondered on the issue as they all ate and talked. Are they just friendly, or do they consider me to be a part of the family after my single stay here long ago? Or do they see me as someone who might be able to help Reb? Something like relief radiated strongly in their enthusiasm toward her. The family and workers dispersed after apple pie, and Jolie began cleaning up. Now was the time to strike. "Can you tell me anything about Reb? Have you seen him? Do you know what's happening?" she asked as soon as they were alone. She picked up a pile of dishes and followed the older woman into the kitchen. 14


"No. Only that Reb doesn't wanna be found. You've probably already guessed that since you haven't found him in all the places you said you looked." It was the answer she expected, but she couldn't leave it at that. "I know, but I really need to see him." Jolie glanced at her, her pale gray eyes filled with concern. "Why? Is there more trouble following him?" "I think there may be. I know he asked you not to tell anyone where he was, but will you do it for me, Jolie? You know I'd never do anything to hurt him." While she couldn't be sure Reb hadn't told his aunt certain things, she had a feeling he'd kept his private relationship with Adrienna to himself. Jolie wouldn't be anywhere near as friendly to her if she knew all the bad things that'd happened between them in the years following their break. Turning the water on and squirting in dish soap, Jolie began to fill the sink. She talked as she worked, rattling plates busily. "He needs a friend right now. Maybe you can help him. Lord knows I've done all I can, with no headway." "So is he hiding here?" Jolie sighed. "None of us have seen him for some time. He told us not to go to him. He comes to us if he runs out of supplies. I just don't know how he survives out there..." When she put a hand on her shoulder, Jolie looked back at her helplessly. "Please, Jolie. Tell me where he is. I think he'll want to see me." "I think he'll want to see you, too, honey, but it's so dangerous. He told us not to tell anyone. That he'd shoot any visitors who came close. How can I let you risk it?" 15


"I can take care of myself. And I can help Reb." The distress Jolie felt was plain on her weathered face. But Adrienna could see the decision there before Reb's aunt slammed off the water and reached with wet hands for the keys hanging near the door. "I don't know if I'm doing the right thing, but I'll take you to him. Let me go get a shotgun." It was obvious that no one in Reb's family knew Adrienna Kelly had died in the September eleventh tragedy of 2001. Maybe Reb would accept her cover without question, too.

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Chapter 2 "Follow the directions and you won't get lost in the woods," Jolie said, parking the truck near the edge of the fence at the boundary of one side of her property. Dusk was almost upon them—maybe ninety minutes of light left. Natalie Francis couldn't mention she knew the precise location of the cabin within the woods. She'd watched it on Network satellite surveillance for the past week. The problem was, Rebel Porter hadn't emerged from the cabin even once during that time. The Network couldn't be sure he was even there anymore. Or if he was alive. For that reason, Natalie had come here, her appearance altered surgically and cosmetically to look like Adrienna Kelly. Jolie had confirmed he'd been at the cabin recently. If he was alive, Natalie couldn't help but wonder at his mental state. He'd been isolated and alone for quite some time, hiding out with the evidence he'd gathered on the Network and its former second-in-command. The Network was the world's most covert organization with underground headquarters in Chicago. Just weeks ago, the corrupt second-in-command of Network operations, Giles Jameson, went MIA. As a boy, Giles had been brought into the Network with the choice: Join or die. Giles joined, vowing secretly to bring down the Network when he took power. Working with Michael Terranzo's organized crime ring, Giles had killed a senator sixteen years before. The son of that senator was Rebel Porter, who grew up to be an investigative reporter. Reb and his partner, Raven Harris, had spent their 17


lives searching for Giles and the covert organization they believed he headed. When Reb and Raven disclosed their findings on their public radio program, exposing Giles and the Network, Giles had covered up the breach and effectively silenced the journalists by arranging to have Raven's nineyear-old son and Reb's wife killed in what were perceived as accidents. Sixteen years later, Giles had begun his life-long mission to destroy the Network for good. A team had been sent in to protect Raven Harris and her husband from their seemingly invisible enemy. Two years earlier, Reb Porter disappeared with all the evidence on Jameson and the Network, and the Network had found him in short order once they started their search. Natalie's mission was to retrieve the evidence in order to maintain structural integrity of the organization. Just as she started to get out of the truck, Jolie handed her the shotgun she'd brought along. Natalie started to protest, but the older woman shook her head. "You need to be able to protect yourself. Reb hasn't come out for so long ... well, we can't be sure of anything. Take it. We've plenty of others back home. Go ahead." Natalie hoisted her oversized, waterproof backpack— stuffed with as many supplies as she could carry—on her back. Then she took the shotgun and checked the load. "Be careful, honey. Even if things are safe there, Reb hasn't seen anyone for a long time. He might be so paranoid, he'll fire at anything that moves."

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Jolie would return to the house, the way they'd discussed. She wouldn't return, as she'd promised Reb and now had also promised Adrienna. Nodding, Natalie thanked her and then headed for the fence. As soon as she climbed over it, she moved into the dark woods. She walked for more than an hour, checking all sides to see if Reb had set up perimeter defenses, but she didn't find anything. Finally, she came to a clearing and saw an old cabin through the trees—a place that could only be described as a shack. Standing at the edge of the trees, she could hear a dog barking wildly inside that cabin. A minute later, the front door of the shack flew open, and the biggest German Shepherd she'd ever seen ran straight toward her. The dog was white, gray, and black and shockingly thin beneath its thick fur—she could see that even in the fading light. Quickly, Natalie slipped back further into the woods, behind a large oak tree. Not a moment too soon either. Gunfire flew around her. The shots were so randomly-placed and rapid, it was a miracle the dog wasn't hit. Instantly, she registered that it was an automatic or sleeve-action shotgun. And firing heavy loads judging by the impacts she could hear on the trees. Silence. He's reloading again. Then, more short-spaced 'boom' sounds came, quite different from the sharper crack of a rifle or the asthmatic stutter of a machine-pistol. 19


She kneeled down with her back against the tree trunk, hearing the panting dog approach. The dog's sharp sense of smell drew him right to her. His teeth bared as he came closer, ears forward, fur ruffled, crouched slightly in a readyto-attack position. "It's okay, boy. I'm not gonna hurt you," she said in a soft, soothing voice. She could see his confusion, and she kept talking to him, slowly holding out her hand to him so he could sniff her. His ears settled down some, and his fur relaxed slightly. He came to her cautiously. "That's right. I'm your friend. I won't hurt you. Good. See? Are you hungry?" He whined at her question, and she got out several treats she'd put in her pocket just in case Reb had a guard dog. He ate while she petted his shaggy head, murmuring praise. Natalie stood up and gunfire scattered around her again. Offering more treats, she eased the dog further behind the tree with her. "Reb?" she called out, as loud as she could over the shots. "Reb, it's Adrienna Kelly. Hold your fire!" A fresh spate of shots met her request. The dog barked at its owner now, a seeming attempt to explain she was a friend. Natalie couldn't help worrying if Reb's mind was so gone he didn't remember his old friend. As soon as the reports silenced, she called to him again, "You remember me, Reb—Adrienna Kelly. We were friends in Chicago. We went to school together." 20


She waited a few minutes, but no more shots came. Taking a deep breath, she stepped boldly out of the protection of the trees with the dog right beside her. "Reb, I'm going to come out in the open now. Jolie gave me a gun, but I'll set it on the ground as soon as I'm in the clearing. I'll be unarmed. Please don't shoot." Slowly and carefully, she strode out into the open. There, she set the shotgun down. Moonlight was all the illumination she'd get. She could see very little of him in the growing darkness, but she recognized him in a heartbeat. He stood on the porch in front of the railing, just watching her approach. His dog ran to him when he called, and she wondered if she'd lost her only protection against Reb. No recognition lit his face as she came closer. He was definitely Rebel—Reb—Porter. She recognized his badly-in-need-of-a-haircut, shaggy black hair falling around his face and dark eyes from the publicity shots he'd done for his radio show years before. He wore only jeans, half unbuttoned. His chest and feet remained bare. He'd lost a considerable amount of weight, which made him look both gaunt and taller than his file specified. "Reb, it's me," she said in a comforting tone, continuing slowly toward him. "You know me, don't you? You know me. Remember me. Please. I'm your friend." She'd almost reached the porch now. His expression changed in the light from the porch, eyes narrowing. His confusion seemed to make him lower his gun uncertainly. "Ad?" He pronounced her name as "Aid." Growing sureness filled his tone. "Is it really you?" 21


"I'm here, Reb. I'm really here." She took the first step onto the porch. He swung toward her, and she stopped short. But he didn't raise his gun again. "How did you—?" he started. "Never in a million years would I have expected you to come." "I had to when I found out the truth." Starting forward again, she noticed he hadn't simply lost weight. He'd become almost frail. Despite his Mexican heritage, he was pale as a ghost. He had to be sick. Close enough to touch him now, she waited while he made up his mind about what to do with her. It quickly became clear he wasn't capable of making any decisions when he swayed on his feet, his eyes wild with delirium. And then he collapsed into her arms.

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Chapter 3 "Well, this isn't exactly the greeting I expected, Tiger," Natalie murmured in his ear right next to her mouth, lowering him as gently as she could to the porch. She took the shotgun from his hands. The dog whined over his prone body, licking Reb like it would wake him. "If dogs talked, you could tell me what's going on, couldn't you, boy?" She was here. He'd accepted her cover as Adrienna Kelly. He hadn't shot her full of holes after he finally recognized her. First things first. I have to get him in bed. Turning her back to him, she reached for his arm and swung it over her shoulder, then eased her other arm under his top leg. Using her legs, she rose with him balanced across her shoulders in a fireman's carry. His loss of weight was helpful in the circumstances—she wasn't sure she could have lifted him at his fighting weight. Managing to get the screen door of the shack open, she carried him inside, her gaze roving around the dark room until the shape of the bed in the far corner emerged. She walked quickly to it and lowered him onto it without causing him any further damage. His teeth chattered, even in his unconscious state, and he felt slightly warm to her touch on his forehead. Frowning, she drew the blanket up over him. Obviously, he had the flu or something. She flicked on the lamp next to his bed and looked down at him. Sweat had 23


broken out on his face, but he really didn't feel particularly hot. Natalie took a deep breath, glancing around her at the unpolished wood floor, the decrepit old furniture. The curtains on the windows were nothing more than faded and yellowed old sheets that completely shut out any light. Worse than the filthy wreck around her was a stench bad enough to make her cover her nose and mouth tightly with a hand to keep herself from gagging. It didn't take her long to follow the trail of the stink. He hadn't let his dog out for at least a couple of days. With no other option, the dog had had to take care of his calls of nature within the cabin. The only reason flies hadn't descended en masse was probably because Reb had locked the cabin up as tight as a drum for days or weeks. Man-oh-man, to be stuck out in this junk heap, alone and sick. Natalie ripped off the makeshift curtains and started opening the windows as far as she could get them up. Seeing a shed beside the cabin, she went to it and got out a shovel. When she returned to the house, she propped the door open with one of the old chairs on the porch, then she scooped the pile of dog crap out of the corner. She avoided the garbage pile on the west end of the clearing because it made her feel dizzy, hot and breathless. It was the way she felt when she had one of her infrequent 'mind seizures'—for lack of a better word for the episodes. She tossed the shovel contents into the woods far from the cabin. 24


Once she rinsed the shovel and returned it to the shed, she retrieved both shotguns. The property looked like a junkyard. The grass was both overgrown and burnt by the sun in areas. She knew Reb didn't burn the garbage because it would send up evidence that someone inhabited the cabin. As she stepped onto the porch with a gun in each hand, she heard something that sent her flying into the cabin. Reb leaned over the side of the bed, retching painfully. He didn't even have the strength to raise himself up once he finished. Putting the guns on the kitchen table, she rushed to the opposite side of the bed and pulled him back. He was unconscious again. She ignored the rank smell of vomit, staring down at him in alarm. He shivered again, his teeth chattering, yet his face was covered in a layer of sweat. When she put her hand to his forehead, his skin felt cold and clammy. He didn't have a fever. What kind of flu was this? She experienced complete helpless in the face of his strange ailment. Even with the windows and door open, the foul stench in the cabin overwhelmed her again. Figuring it probably wasn't doing him any good either, she went to the little closet in the kitchen, found a bucket and pine solution, and got to work cleaning up Reb's and the dog's messes. If nothing else, she could stand to be in the shack with that task done. When she brought the cleaning supplies back to the kitchen, she noticed the dog's food dish had been licked utterly clean and no water filled his other dish. As soon as she kneeled by the food dish and picked it up, the dog ran to her and started begging. She noticed once more that he looked 25


almost as thin as Reb did. "When's the last time you ate something? Huh, boy?" He just whined pitifully at her, thumping his tail. Natalie returned the supplies to the closet, then started searching the cupboards for dog food. She finally found half a dozen cans. She couldn't get one open fast enough for the poor creature. He ate like he'd been starved—and he probably had been. Reb didn't appear capable of even caring for himself. She filled the dog's water dish while watching him eat. A huge sigh of disappointment bled from her when she gazed around again. She hadn't expected Reb to be sick. Dead maybe, but not sick. All she'd brought along was some food and the necessary equipment she needed for the mission. She hadn't thought to bring medical supplies. She didn't even have a thermometer to check his temperature. She went through his medicine cabinet, which was empty save for aspirin, deodorant, toothpaste, and a shaving kit. Reb mumbled from the bed. She left the bathroom and went back over to his bed. "Know what ... need ... find ... Remember where ... need it." "Reb, what do you need? What's wrong with you?" she asked. Drugs? Were drugs what he thought he needed? But he had a history of being as anti-drug as a person could be while in college and with his radio program. Circumstances could change the best of men though. 26


Already, he'd fallen unconscious again. Something was wrong with him, but right now her chief concern had to search the cabin. She looked around. Shouldn't take long...

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Chapter 4 Consciousness brought painful reality when Reb reached it. His body and head felt like they'd gone through a meat grinder every-which-way. Groaning, he tried to raise his head from the rank pillow. What the hell's happened now? He'd gotten sick again. That much he could guess. He'd been sick so often in the last two years, he'd lost track of how many times. He just didn't know what caused it. Shit, have I been hallucinating again? He must have been. Or he'd had a nightmare. A nightmare where Adrienna Kelly appeared out of the woods and said she'd come to him ... More like an apparition from his own private hell. A sound from the kitchen gave him the strength to lift his head. "Scout?" he murmured, but then saw his dog next to the bed, blinking up at him. Another noise had him reaching wildly for his shotgun, generally propped up in the corner made by the nightstand and the wall, or in the bed next to him. It wasn't there. He saw it across the room, on the floor next to the door, but again his attention diverted to the clatter of someone rummaging around in the kitchen. When he rose a little higher off the bed, he saw her there on her hands and knees. Hallucination? Nightmare? Hell, she looks more real than anything has in months. 28


For a second, he just stared at her as she snooped around in his cupboards. Her thick, golden-blond hair fell all around her face. He'd forgotten how beautiful she was. He found it hard to believe, even now with all the water under the bridge, that there'd been a time when he hadn't noticed her at all. "Adrienna?" he asked softly, his body protesting at him sitting up fully. Her head snapped up to peer at him. Those jade green eyes ... Yeah, he'd blessedly forgotten how compelling they could be. "What are you doing?" she demanded in a severe voice, shooting to her feet like a lithe animal. "You're not feeling well." "I must be in hell ... if you're here." Instead of the hurricane of anger he expected from her, she chuckled as she came to him. "Well, I have to admit this place isn't the Ritz, but I don't know if I'd exactly call it hell." "Why are you here, Ad?" She stood directly in front of him, and he knew he wasn't dead for sure then. Not when he noticed her long, tan, shapely legs below khaki shorts, her flat stomach, and the glorious swell of her breasts. Not dead, but what was he? In a self-imposed purgatory. He knew he wasn't really alive either. "What are you doin' here, Ad?" he demanded again. "I told you, I had to come. If I'd known you were out here alone and sick, I would've come sooner, too." Not likely. 29


He shook his head at her, instantly deciding that was a mistake because he was sure the movement would detach his skull from his shoulders. A wave of unbearable dizziness washed over him. "No way. Not after last time," he muttered, only half conscious. "Why not after last time?" Ah shit, I must be in hell. Her hell. The one she's created just for the pleasure of torturing me for my sins against her. He knew it was coming. And, to stand there now, sounding like she didn't remember the last time they'd been together at all. As if something like that, something that bad, could have slipped her mind. What kind of vengeful game was she playing now? "You know as well as I do, dammit. Don't start your bullshit now, Ad. I can't take it anymore." "Any bullshit is in the past. You need to lie down before you collapse unconscious again. You're too heavy for me to carry a second time." Chagrined, Reb realized he hadn't hallucinated that part either. He'd fainted away into her arms like some historical heroine. Shit. The pain in his gut and his head were so bad, he could barely swallow, let alone fight her when she eased him back on the bed. "Tell me ... what you're really doin' here, Ad," he demanded without an ounce of strength. "Tell me." A strange look of sympathy crossed her face as she gazed down at him. She looked softer somehow. Vulnerable. 30


"I guess I'm here to rescue you, Prince Charming," she murmured. His attempt to ask her what she'd been searching for in his kitchen died away. The blackness reached up to claim him once more.

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Chapter 5 He was awake again less than twenty minutes later, but Natalie got to him in time to push a large silver bowl under his head. Her disappointment at the abrupt severing of her search of the cabin faded at his horrible sickness. She ignored her own natural revulsion in order to help him, surprised when he found the strength to lie back on his own, swearing viscerally and hoarsely. Natalie set the bowl on the floor next to the bed and went to wet a washcloth. As she wiped the sweat and sickness from his face, she asked gently, "Is this the flu, Reb? You don't feel hot enough to have a fever, but I couldn't find even a thermometer so I can't be sure." "I'm fine," he muttered, and she wondered if her nursing embarrassed him. Regardless of whether Adrienna had ever been a caretaker to him the past, she couldn't second-guess herself now. At any rate, her cover provided for a significant change in Adrienna's personality, considering the ten years Reb and Adrienna had lived apart. There was plenty of reason for any change. Natalie would play her role the way she needed to obtain her objective. Right now, he needed help, whether he wanted to accept it from her or not. Feeling slightly uncomfortable because of his embarrassment, she set the washcloth away and looked back at him. She noticed his eyes then. Not simply blue, but a violet blue. The photos in his file hadn't done them justice. Yet even his beautiful eyes looked unwell. They were bloodshot, sallow. 32


"How did you find me, Ad?" "Your relatives. They remembered me from the summer I spent here with you and Raven." "I told 'em not to ... It's dangerous here. I want you gone in the morning." "I can't leave you here alone. You're sick." "I can take care of myself. You damn well will leave. I don't need another death on my conscience." He looked away from her, and she knew his thoughts centered on his wife. He and Laura had been married only five years when the car accident claimed her life—an accident they both knew was anything but a real accident. Laura had been murdered because of the evidence Reb gathered relentlessly back then on a powerful criminal. Natalie knew he blamed himself for his wife's untimely death. Laura had been the love of his life, by all accounts. Natalie wanted to ask him about this guilt—something certainly not covered in the files she'd memorized—but she didn't dare. He might see through her cover. The past relationship between Adrienna and Reb was complicated—that much she could say for sure. Adrienna, Reb and Raven had been friends all through school. Raven and Reb became a couple when Raven was only fourteen and Reb seventeen. Adrienna, who'd suffered from chronic depression all her life, and Reb had had a summer affair when he was twenty-two—while Raven vacationed in Hawaii. He had no idea Adrienna harbored romantic feelings for him for years before they became lovers ... nor that she became pregnant with his child the last time they were together. 33


"Reb, I know why you're here," she told him softly. "I want to help you." He looked back, his expression both hard and a little wild. "What do you know?" he demanded. "I know probably more than you do. I'm an investigative reporter, too, remember? I know you're in hiding. I know who's after you, and why he's after you." His head slipped back on his pillow, eyes closed. She thought for an instant that he'd passed out again, but then he raked his hair back with one hand, shaking his head slightly. "You can't help me. Nobody can help me. Why the hell would you even want to, after all I've done to you? We don't have any reason to trust each other. When have you ever given me a break, Ad? You're here to break my balls again, or get a hot story at my expense. I can't handle it this time. Unless you're here for the evidence. I'm telling you now, you won't get it." She found herself senselessly hurt by his words. From what she'd read of Adrienna Kelly, she would have done either. But Natalie couldn't allow his anger and suspicions to deter her from her goal. Turning away, she got to her feet. She stopped long enough to grab the washcloth and say, "I won't leave, Reb. I want to help you. That's all I want. I'm not working for Jameson. Why don't you get some sleep?" She appeared to have startled him with her unexpectedly gentle words, but she walked away before he could say anything more she didn't want to hear.

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Chapter 6 Reb wished the blackness would utterly drown him as he lay there helplessly, watching Adrienna walk into the kitchen with his puke bucket. That she'd take care of him was, in itself, suspicious and disturbing. The last time he saw her ... Shit, too easy to recount the many sins he'd committed against her. He couldn't help cruelly reminding himself that she was just one of the many women he'd inadvertently shattered and destroyed. He closed his eyes and remembered too vividly the last time they'd been together. Her tears tore him to shreds that day almost as much as the tremulous smile on her face. She'd pulled on her clothes in the harsh morning light, making him realize she deliberately seduced him the night before—deliberately. She'd waited for Laura to leave them alone, to let them mend the rift that stood between them, and then she set out to use his guilt about their own past to get him to cheat on the woman he loved more than life itself. Brutally satisfied, tears had slid down Adrienna's cheeks as she announced her intentions. "For once in my life, I get to destroy your life the way you've been destroying mine since I was old enough to realize I mean nothing to you. I never will mean anything." She'd thrown the words at him in vicious, breathless pants. "I never want to you see again." His guilt had been a double-edge sword that morning ten years ago. He'd cheated on Laura—God, how could he survive if he lost her? He would rather die. And to know he'd driven Adrienna to that point because of his own obliviousness to her 35


feelings for him for so long. Somehow she'd known he never had and could never love her. So why was she here now, claiming she wanted to help him? Her intentions couldn't be good. They never had been before. He couldn't let her insistence she only wanted to help him dissolve his guard. He'd be a fool to trust her. Despite what she said, he wouldn't put it past her to be working with a ruthless criminal like Giles Jameson. Anything to destroy him. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he sat up. Heat and dizziness washed over him from head to toe. When reality came back into focus, he had his head in his hands, leaning precariously over the edge of the bed. He needed something. If only he could remember what. Shit, he needed it bad. Adrienna called out to him when he shoved himself to his feet and went into the bathroom. He closed the door to silence her protest at him being out of bed. Bracing himself on the sink, he waited until the world righted itself again before he groped for the cold water handle and turned it on full. With one hand balancing him, he used the other to splash cold water on his face. It did nothing to make him feel any better. When he raised his head, he saw his shocking reflection in the mirror. He barely recognized himself. He looked like shit. Normally, his skin had a healthy tan. Now he was pasty white with eyes like a zombie's—shadowed, bloodshot and sunken. Hell, I could easily pass for the Grim Reaper. What the hell's wrong with me? Why does this keep happening? 36


It hadn't mattered before Adrienna came. Nothing mattered then. He'd accepted death. But, of all the people in the world he'd expected might come here—the place he'd expected to drop dead—she was the last. The very last. He didn't want to feel her guilt or her pain. Shit, he didn't want to feel his own guilt or pain either. Anything she dished out, he deserved in triplicate. At the moment, he was weak and low enough not to want to face her perpetual need for a justice that didn't exist. When he looked at himself in the mirror again, the world started to tip and swirl deliriously, spots of black emerging and growing in size. Reb closed his eyes as the weakness flooded him over him once more. But it was all fading away, falling away like a snake shedding its skin. From a distance, he heard his name, but he was too far gone to respond.

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Chapter 7 "Exactly how many times am I going to have to carry you back to bed, Tiger?" Natalie said out loud after she kicked the bathroom door open and saw Reb unconscious on the filthy bathroom floor. Sighing, she conceded that at least he hadn't hit his head on the way down. Crouching beside him, she got him balanced across her shoulders again. He felt ten times heavier this time—like, she hated to admit, dead weight. At least she didn't have far to go. Only the required Network commitment to keeping in top shape allowed her to do what she needed to do. She dropped him back on the bed after a half dozen steps and then collapsed next to him. Breathing only slightly harder than usual, she gazed down into his wane, comatose face. Much as she didn't want to make it personal, the worry she experienced over him grew more intense. What's wrong with him? Can this be something as common as the flu? It wasn't carbon monoxide poisoning since the dog didn't seem to be suffering from anything more than malnutrition, and she hadn't felt ill at all since she arrived. He certainly wasn't coming out of whatever it was either. Swallowing, she remembered seeing a friends' mother check temperature by pressing her lips against her child's forehead. Natalie now pressed her lips to Reb's forehead for a full minute. No, he definitely didn't have a fever. He felt cold 38


and clammy despite the sweat breaking out once more on his forehead and upper lip. As she watched him without moving, his eyes began to move rapidly beneath the lids. Instinctively, she put her ear against his chest. His heart rate sounded much too fast. She pushed her index and third finger against the pulse in his neck. It jumped sporadically yet quickly. She'd had some medical training, and it told her Reb wasn't ailing under the flu. She could remember better than she wanted to her years as a seriously bored teenager, looking for intellectual stimulation since her mother had checked out of her life most of the time. She'd settled for physical stimulation instead. The group of friends she hung out with always got into trouble. She considered it exciting. The drugs scene had bored her, and she never bothered with that aspect. She recalled both the reactions her friends had to the drugs and the reactions they experienced when they didn't have money for their next fix. What Reb seemed to be going through resembled the drug withdrawal she saw as kid. If he was taking drugs, she needed to find out for sure. She shoved herself to her feet and stalked purposely into the bathroom. She searched it again from top to bottom. Nothing. You have to look through the garbage for evidence of drug addiction, she told herself, but the idea was easier thought of than done. It could bring on one of her mind seizures, and she couldn't risk having one here. But what other choice did she have? To protect herself against the possibility of bringing on the seizures, she put a clothespin on her nose, then took out the 39


garbage can from under the kitchen sink. Scattering what was in it outside, just off the porch, she looked at everything that fell out. She found no needles or any other kind of drug paraphernalia. Quickly, she picked the trash up and brought it back into the house. Only after she put the can back under the sink, then washed her arms from shoulder to fingertip, did she remove the clothespin from her nose. Lowering herself onto a rickety wooden chair by the kitchen table, she sighed in frustration. She could feel the dog watching her curiously across the room. "Don't tell me you've never gone through the garbage," she challenged him, but he didn't even blink. Reb moaned from the bed, and she went to stand over him. He begged again for something he needed badly, and that confirmed her drug suspicions, even if the cabin's contents didn't. It was too dark to go out and mess with the piles of garbage in the cabin clearing—she'd put that part off as long as she possibly could. There was a good chance she'd have to search through it if she couldn't find the evidence anywhere else though. Her own rankness got the better of her. After she showered and put on fresh clothes, she went back out to check on Reb. He still shivered and moaned. Seeing him like this pained her. She'd read his files until she knew them by heart. Rebel Porter had been through so much already. Alone for two years since he'd gone into hiding with the evidence. How long had he had a drug habit? Had he recently run out of his stash, which would explain why he seemed to be going 40


through withdrawal? If drugs were his problem, where the hell did he hide them? She brushed the hair away from his face as he thrashed and murmured incoherently. The only thing she understood was, "Remember ... you need it." Against her own best advice, she got into bed next to him and put her arms around him. She whispered to him, trying to bring him the comfort he needed but didn't want to accept from her when he was conscious. A half hour later, his shivering and moaning finally stopped and his breathing became deep and even. Had the drugs helped him cope with his solitude, his loneliness and fear? It was the logical conclusion. Unfortunately, she'd spent more time than she should have wondering what it'd been like for him these two years. Isolated from the rest of the world. No end in sight to his loneliness because he was being hunted by a ruthless killer. Words crowded into her throat, emotional words she couldn't hold back even to focus on the mission. "I'm here now, Reb," she whispered. "I won't let anyone hurt you. I promise. You're safe with me."

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Chapter 8 Natalie opened her eyes with the first touch of sunlight against them the next morning. Reb's face lay directly in front of hers, peaceful in slumber at last, and she was enclosed in his arms. He slept so deeply, she found herself frantically checking for a pulse. Only when she found it, steady and strong, did she start breathing again. She couldn't help noticing the expression on his face. This quiet sleep contrasted hugely to his restlessness the night before. Knowing she should get up and get to work with her search, she instead found herself looking at him tenderly. Yeah, man-oh-man yes, he needs a shave, a haircut, a change of clothes. But she smiled anyway. "You could use a shower, Tiger. And a bar of soap all to yourself." Emotion crowded into her throat. Tentatively at first, she traced the sharp lines on his face. His cheekbones were starkly prominent, calling attention to how much weight he'd lost. His overgrown stubble prickled pleasurably against her fingertips. He didn't look healthy at all, not like he had at one time. She remembered thinking so often while she looked at the photographs in his file that he was unbelievably handsome. Despite his sickness, she loved his face now just as much as she had then. She knew it by heart. When her fingertips touched his full, colorless lips, she was jolted into violently reminding herself of her mission. What she needed to be doing here. One thing was for sure—she hadn't come to coddle him, sickness aside. While he slept so 42


soundly, she needed to get up and search his place. She couldn't leave anything unturned. Getting away from him wasn't so easy. He didn't want to let her go. His arms clung to her while he murmured his refusal to do just that. Natalie smiled. If he remembered this when he woke, he'd think he was losing his mind. "I'm right here," she said in a soft, soothing voice. She caressed his jaw again, and he sank back into sleep without protest. This time, as soon as she pushed herself away, he turned over and buried his face in his pillow. The dog stood and whined once she came to her feet. She followed him when he went for the front door. "No more cabin corner, boy," she said, opening the door and letting him out to do his business. She stepped onto the porch to stretch, scanning all around her as she did. First thing, she'd have to get a perimeter defense in place. Then she'd search the cabin and the clearing. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she acknowledged that it'd be a full day. Hopefully, Reb would sleep through most of it. She kneeled down to pet the German Shepherd when he ran back to her. His tail went a mile a minute, and she giggled as he licked her face. "Yeah, yeah. I'll feed you." He barked eagerly like he could understand her, and Natalie laughed again. "Come on. Let's go see what we can scrounge up."

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Chapter 9 Scout's excited barking brought Reb to full-on awareness. As he tried to pry his glued eyes apart, he realized the barking didn't sound like a warning. This more resembled the kind of bark Scout used when he knew dinner was about to be served. Reb's head spun sickly once he got his eyes open. He closed them again, and this time he heard a voice—the one belonging to someone who'd comforted him last night. Adrienna. Adrienna had held him, touched him. Kissed him? He vaguely recalled the caress of lips on his forehead and her fingertips on his mouth. Adrienna had taken care of him. Adrienna Kelly, the ultimate non-nursemaid in all the years since the summer he'd noticed her, really noticed her... He opened his eyes again, slowly this time. The room came into focus in stages, and he shifted his head slightly to see her. She knelt on the floor, laughing and scolding Scout at the same time she told him to calm down ... yes, he could have it all for himself. She had something a little less horsy in mind for her own dinner. Reb couldn't help chuckling in amusement ... up until he realized what he should have thought of yesterday. "You're allergic to dogs," he said in a thick, guttural voice. Her head came up at the suddenness of his voice in the open room. She frowned again, hauling herself to her feet. "How are you feeling?" she asked, approaching the bed. "You're allergic to animals. You always have a violent reaction if you just get near somebody with dog or cat hair on 44


their clothes." He managed to lift himself to a sitting position with more strength than he felt he possessed at the moment. "Sneezing. Asthma. You had to go to the emergency room a couple times it was so bad." She shrugged, and he watched her slip her hands into the back pockets of the jean shorts she wore. She'd changed her clothes. He vaguely recalled hearing the shower last night. "You tried everything. Every known treatment." She shrugged again, her long hair mussed. It parted at the side, and one thick wing fell down in a golden cascade over the right side of her face. She hadn't combed her hair that morning. He didn't want to think she looked sexy just out of bed, especially considering how worried she'd always been about her appearance. The woman kept breath mints and a brush on the nightstand, for Pete's sake. Yet here she was, messed up and in full glory. "Yeah, well, they're coming up with more treatments these days, and I finally found something that works. New shots." He eyed her. Hard to believe anything could work that well. Her allergies had been about as extreme as they could be. Reb found her reply impossible to accept. And she wasn't easy to accept. First, she'd played nursemaid to him, left bed without combing her hair, and now she was completely over something that'd plagued her all her life. It didn't make sense. Then he cut to the big worry. So she'd changed in some ways, true—but he reminded himself it didn't mean her intentions in coming here were anything like altruistic. 45


Sighing, she sat on the bed next to him, too close for him not to notice with extreme discomfort that she smelled like wildflowers while he smelled like... "Speaking of drugs, Reb, are you on them?" He was so surprised, he gave in to his need to lay back and close his eyes again. "No. You know I never went in for that shit. I've always been staunchly and publicly against drugs. What would even make you suggest it?" The bed dipped slightly. He opened his eyes to find she'd turned to face him, still close enough to smell wildflowers, and cross-legged. Shit, the last thing he wanted to do was notice her again. Notice her body. But how could he stop himself? She'd never been anywhere near overweight, but she'd had curves. Gorgeously soft curves. Her body wasn't the same now. She still had the curves. He could see them beneath the thin top she wore with a sports bra. Her breasts were still beyond distracting. But she wasn't soft everywhere anymore. The polar opposite, in fact. She was muscular. Her abdomen, her legs, her arms. Even the roundness of her face seemed more angular than ever before. She had to have been doing what she claimed she'd never do—working out. On a daily basis, by the looks of her. Adrienna also hadn't worn denim in more years than he could remember, especially not these not-tight, not-loose ones that showed the slight flare of her hips and her irresistible, heart-shaped bottom. She wanted to be taken serious. She'd said that countless times. "If I dress like that, no one will take me seriously." Her clothes were always 46


sophisticated and slightly sexy. Even casually, she didn't wear denim. How can someone change this much? He'd never believed people really could change—Adrienna Kelly least of all. The second he started to buy her act, she'd revealed herself for the bitter monster he'd made her into with his crimes against her. She followed the line of his gaze on her breasts and raised one eyebrow. Another change. She'd allowed her once tooarched and manicured eyebrows to grow out. Now they were almost bushy and natural. Reb looked away in sudden embarrassment. He'd gone without companionship for too damn long. Gone without a woman. To find himself attracted to Adrienna again was unthinkable. Her bitterness and insanity had kept him from feeling the attraction that'd thoroughly convinced him to temporarily shed his loyalty to his long-time girlfriend Raven for a single summer. His attraction to Adrienna had also blinded him to what'd really been happening between them. She'd never let him forget it either. "Don't lie to me, Reb," she scolded now, but not in that relentless tone he knew so well. "I know you don't have the flu. You're going through drug withdrawal. I've seen it before. I need to know where you keep your stash." "I told you, I don't go in for that shit. I don't even know what you're talking about. I don't have a stash. I don't take drugs." He'd always prized a clear, logical mind. Even in the worst of circumstances—and he'd had plenty, too many, of 47


them in his thirty-eight years—he hadn't drowned his pain in drugs. Her sparkling, too-far-apart eyes narrowed on him. "I didn't find anything when I searched last night, but..." She shook her head, confusion entering her expression. "How do you explain your symptoms, then?" "I ran out of food a week ago." "I noticed. I'm surprised you didn't eat dog food. I would, if I had absolutely no other choice. But even your dog wasn't getting what's left of that. Are you telling me you were too hungry to take care of yourself and your dog?" Disbelief saturated her tone. He didn't even believe himself. He'd been unable to even get out of bed for the past few days from a sickness he went through on a weekly basis. That information wasn't something he could trust her with, though. He looked away from her penetrating gaze, muttering that he'd never intended to starve his dog. That much was the truth. Scout had been his only companion for two years. Even when he'd drown in his own puke, he did everything he could to make sure Scout was cared for. But he hadn't been conscious enough for the past few days to consider his dog's needs, let alone his own. For a long moment, she seemed to consider his words. Distrustful Adrienna was someone he well knew. She rarely believed a word he said. But then she surprised him by dropping it without another word. "All right. Hunger I can deal with. Good thing I came prepared." 48


Mildly surprised, he could only watch her get up, thinking, Maybe I'm so sick I'm hallucinating this whole damn thing. If she really knows what kind of trouble I'm in, like she says she does, why the hell is she here? Adrienna avoids trouble. She prefers to make her own—usually at my expense. Is she here to dole out another penance for me that I fully deserve to suffer?

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Chapter 10 She'd brought enough food for them to last a couple days, but she'd have to replenish that soon if she didn't find what she came here for. Considering the emptiness of Reb's stomach, she knew he wouldn't be able to eat much anyway. She'd seen a generator on the side of the house when she came into the clearing, so she knew the shack had power. She made toast with only a small scraping of butter and a shake of cinnamon and sugar. When she finished with the first two slices, she turned to find Reb sitting up at the end of the bed, wearing a T-shirt. The frustrated expression on his face seemed to say he'd spent the last few minutes trying to get farther than that. "You don't have to get up. I'll bring it to you." He shook his head at her insistence. Worriedly, she watched him drag himself to his feet and stumbled slowly, nowhere steadily, to the beat-up old kitchen table. He sat down heavily, and she could see the effort it'd taken for him to get that far in the way his body sagged in the creaky chair. Sweat bathed his face again. "You're really sick," she said, uncertainly sliding a plate with toast in front of him. He covered his face with both hands. "I'd really hate to have to get you back in that bed again if you go down, Tiger." He glanced up at her. "How did you get me in the bed?" he asked without energy, ignoring the food while he looked at her with half of his face still draped by his hand. 50


The toaster popped on the counter, but instead of getting it she went around the table and touched his forehead. No fever, but he was flushed. As she tried to get him to look into her eyes steadily, she saw how dazed his were. He couldn't seem to focus on her. "I carried you," she told him. "Yeah, right," he said, a breathless snort-laugh following. "You need help opening a jar." "I've been working out. Do you think you can try eating? I have the feeling you'd pitch a fit if I tried to feed you, and you really need to get something in you." By the time Natalie prepared her own breakfast, the dog appeared next to the table to catch anything that dropped. Reb at least picked up a slice of toast in one shaky hand. She dug into her own food hungrily. "I noticed you've been working out," he murmured after a small bite. He dropped the toast back on his plate. "I've lost weight, but you can't expect me to believe you can lift a hundred and seventy-five pound man." "It's not the weight. It's how it's distributed. I have three parts of you over three parts of me, so that's about fifty-eight pounds for each part. Sound more doable that way?" When he stared at her in continued disbelief, she set down her toast, raising her eyebrow at him. "You wanna armwrestle, Tiger? I'd hate to embarrass you, but I could take you any day. Especially now that you're sick." He closed his eyes again, and she could see he wasn't even up to verbal sparring. Tenderness flooded her a little too 51


easily at the pitiful sight of him. "You better eat. You'll need your strength if we're gonna get in that shower today." "I'm showering today?" Natalie smiled at the hint of tired amusement in his tone. "That's the agenda, definitely. Nothing personal, but you need it, Tiger. Oh boy, do you need it!" He glanced at her sheepishly, returning her smile, and an overwhelming joy spread through her at seeing it. Getting him to smile was enough to break her heart. How long had it been since he'd smiled or laughed? "You never called me 'Tiger' before." There he was again—pointing out all the changes in her. Did he doubt her cover as Adrienna? She veiled her nervousness with annoyance. "You never had me clean up your puke either. Time's change. Roll with it, Reb. If I have to, I'll hold you up in the shower. It's not just for you. It's for me, too, you understand." He managed to pick up the glass of orange juice in front of him—quite an effort, she noticed—but his gaze darted to her at her attempt at humor. For a long minute, he stared at her with narrowed eyes as if nothing about her made any sense to him. This time, thankfully, he said nothing. He drank his juice and she chewed her toast in the moment of peace. "Scout, is that the dog's name?" she asked while he took more bites of the food. He nodded. She scratched Scout's head on her thigh, and the dog looked up at her with irresistible brown eyes.

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"You used to be terrified of dogs. Scout should have scared the shit out of you when you first showed up. I trained him to attack anybody who came near the cabin." "Even your family?" "They wouldn't come. I told them I'd shoot to kill anybody, so they won't come out here. They know better." Hoping he wouldn't ask how she'd kept Scout from attacking her—would he even believe she'd been trained to calm any canine, even an attack dog—she said, "Jolie warned me. But what if they wanna check on you? They love you. They're worried sick about you. For all they know, you could be dead out here. Then how would you come out on your own and get what you need?" "They understood not to come. If she warned you, why'd you bother?" The toaster popped up again, and she got up gratefully to butter and season the slices. When she turned back with the plate, she saw he wasn't doing well. Surprising her because she would have said he was far too weak for it, he dove out of his chair and stumbled to the bathroom. She dropped the plate on the table and rushed after him. He'd collapsed on his hands and knees in front of the toilet. She got down on the floor with him, holding him while he threw up. He was so weak, she could tell he couldn't keep himself up at all, not even his head. If she hadn't been there, he would have been lying on the floor in a pool of his own vomit. Or, worse, his head would be bobbing in the fetid toilet, where he could drown. Hoarsely, he whispered, "I need ... sit ... down." 53


Natalie eased him back so he could lean against the side of the old claw-foot tub, modernized with a shower head. Perspiration soaked his face, running off it in rivulets. She pushed herself up on one knee toward the linen closet in the room and found a washcloth. After wetting it thoroughly with cold water, she wiped his face, rinsed the rag, and did it again. He'd tipped his head back, eyes closed. As she washed his hair free of the puke, he didn't bother trying to point out she'd never done such a thing before. She watched him carefully. He hadn't passed out yet. She knew he felt her ministrations, and he sighed at the coolness of the washcloth when she slicked his wet hair back away from his face. "Why do you think you're so sick, Reb?" she asked, kneeling before him. Why was he lying about taking drugs? She hadn't found any evidence of them. Or had he run out of his stash? He shook his head, too weak to talk. Sighing in helplessness, she sat back on her legs, just watching him for a minute. Maybe this wasn't her alpha mission, but she couldn't just get what she'd come for and leave him like this. Until he was better, she'd be spending most of her time taking care of him. What else could she do? She noticed the T-shirt he'd just put on was now soaked. "Let's get this shirt off you," she murmured, a wash of tears flooding into her throat and eyes. Even as she told herself she was being stupid, she couldn't stop it. She leaned toward him and, with extreme focus, helped him out of the wet shirt. After tossing it in the corner of the room that seemed to be 54


devoted to dirty laundry, she faced him again. "Look, I'll strip the bed and see if I can get some fresh sheets on it. Then we'll get you back in it. You're not well enough to be out of bed yet." If he heard her, he gave no indication. She went through the closet and found a single sheet. Not a fitted one, but it would have to do until she washed the laundry. In the main room of the cabin, she ripped the soiled, smelly sheets and pillowcases from the bed, then put towels over the pillows to protect them. Snapping the regular sheet over the mattress, she tucked it in as best as she could before she went back for him. His gasp told her he'd woken up when she had him balanced across her shoulders again. A minute later, she dropped him back on the bed and collapsed half under him. "Shit, you are strong," he muttered. Natalie laughed and tried to catch her breath at the same time.

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Chapter 11 Reb quickly fell into a restless sleep, but Natalie knew she couldn't spend the whole of the day watching over him. She contacted her team from just within the cover of the trees and told them she'd found Reb very sick—and why she thought he was sick, despite the lack of evidence at this point. Her leader, Dez Luttino, ordered her to stay put and try to find the evidence; he'd contact her if the plan changed. Dez reminded her that if they pulled Reb out before retrieving the evidence, Jameson would be alerted to their presence. The former second-in-command wouldn't only be searching for Reb—he'd be watching the Network like a hawk. He'd sense their movements as easily as breathing, and he'd move in as soon as he detected them. Getting the evidence was their alpha mission. She needed to work faster in finding and securing it. Jameson wasn't far behind them. But Dez also told her to find evidence of Reb's drug use, as it would help them figure out the severity of his sickness. Frustrated as Natalie was, she had to follow orders. Nevertheless, she couldn't help wondering why her superiors wanted her to stay here. It seemed to make more sense to get Reb out so her team could come in and make a clean sweep of the cabin and the woods to find the evidence. Natalie knew it wouldn't be the first time they'd sent a team in with only half of the information necessary for completing the mission. Which meant her superiors at the Network had something up their sleeves. If she had to venture a guess, 56


she'd say they were deliberately attempting to draw Jameson after them. And Rebel Porter was their bait. She set up perimeter defenses on all sides. After a shower, she started on the dirty jobs. She washed the laundry in the sink with dish soap and hung it to dry on the porch over ropes she found near the ancient, crumbling fieldstone fireplace. Then she started cleaning—and searching—the cabin from top to bottom. She stopped only long enough to feed and water Scout and herself. Reb had been mostly comatose all day, alternating between shivering, sweating, and begging incoherently. He wanted drugs, she assumed. And she'd found absolutely nothing she was looking for in the cabin. Annoyed, she glanced over at him. He wasn't shivering now. Maybe it'd be a good time to give him the sponge-bath he desperately needed. She'd washed all the blankets and she'd even taken the clothes from his body, throwing them in a fresh batch of soap-water in the kitchen sink. He'd be less embarrassed about it if she bathed him while he was unconscious. Decided, she got a basin, washed it, and then filled it with hot, soapy water. Trying not to think too much about what she was doing, she started cleaning him, getting his hair wet and soaped up first—as best as she could without his cooperation. Then she ran over his face and neck, his chest and underarms with the washcloth. His nipples rose into tight nubs, and she frowned at the window where air hot enough to scorch blew in. She'd long ago stripped down to a thin tank top with her shorts. How could he possibly be cold in this 57


heat? She wasn't sure whether to shut the window—doing that would close off the only source of fresh air in this shack. Being chilled for a few minutes wouldn't hurt him, she decided. She skipped down to his feet and started up his legs, keeping her gaze away from his body when she could. His voice startled her with his slight moan—not delirium, but pleasure. Natalie glanced at his face to find his eyes opening from his long nap. To cover the potential embarrassment of the situation, she said, "You should drink something, Tiger. You'll get dehydrated." He glanced first at the soapy washcloth in her hand, then down the length of his own body—completely bare before her. "What are you doing?" Giving him a sponge bath had seemed like a good idea before. He needed one, for Pete's sake. Now she felt uncertain, and her explanation came out as defensiveness when she muttered, "What do you think I'm doing? You can't stand in the shower, I don't wanna hold up an unconscious man, and I'm tired of smelling your stink." With that, she plunged the washcloth back in the soapy water, splashing water all around, and went to work on his too thin, hairy thighs. "This is wild, honey. I can't believe you're doing this," he murmured, covering his eyes with his arm. There he went again, telling her what she wouldn't do, but clearly was doing. Natalie decided to trust in the security of her cover. He just had too damn many hang-ups for his own good. She wasn't going to humor him about this one. 58


She kept washing him the way he needed, rinsing, not touching him except through the washcloth. The bed got wet because she didn't take the time to be careful about keeping it dry anymore. She hated realizing that she was nervous and overcompensating. Man-oh-man, she'd seen naked men before. Plenty of them! In situations where they'd become just another hunk of flesh. What was the big deal? Reb was a shrunken, sick ghost of his former self anyway. The word 'shrunken' came back to her in mockery when his formerly limp penis started to change—rapidly. Hugely. Amazingly. He'd covered his head with his criss-crossed arms, but she didn't have to wonder whether he remained awake and aware of her. She now accepted it hadn't been the light breeze coming in the window, making him cold. His nipples had tightened in arousal, just like hers did now. "Okay," Natalie said in a tire-losing-its-air tone. She'd unconsciously stepped back from him, the washrag dripping in her hand. She didn't have to look at herself to know her thin shirt blatantly displayed the sharp tips of her breasts. Reb lifted his arms, and their gazes met. She looked back, trying appear indifferent. Breathe ... have to ... forgot how to ... man-oh-man. Only Reb... "It's been a long time since I've even seen a woman, Ad. Long time since I've gotten a full-body sponge bath from one, too, if I've ever had one." His voice sounded harsh and low, seeming to call even more attention to the fact that his erection still grew. More so than her mortification for how she'd gone after him, washing 59


... washing every part of him, she lost it completely when her face filled with heat. "I've never given a sponge bath before. Maybe ... maybe I'm doing it wrong." She didn't even know what she meant. What the hell am I saying? To her own hears, she blathered like a silly virgin. He let out that little snort-laugh of his, bringing even more heat into her face. "You're not doing a damn thing wrong, babe. Trust me. I'm sick as a dog, and every bit of blood in my body has decided I need a pick-me-up. Who even knew the thing still worked?" Natalie's gaze uncontrollably sought his glorious erection again, and she was suddenly so aroused she couldn't remember forming the words "Oh man" before they spilled from her lips. Rebel Porter couldn't mean anything to her. He absolutely could not. But she should have known he'd have this affect on her. She should have planned for it. Learning so many things about him before she came here, discovering everything possible and memorizing it just hadn't been enough for her. She wanted to know him, the man deep inside. The one he hid, especially from her, believing her to be his lover-nemesis Adrienna. Natalie had made herself vulnerable with her own fascination for him. And God knew this wouldn't be the first time she'd fallen for a dangerous man. She didn't need to remind herself how much rode on her actions here. She couldn't allow her feelings to get in the way again. 60


Steeling her jaw, she said firmly, "If you turn on your side, I'll finish what I started. No sense being half clean." Surprising her, he did her bidding without protest, shifting around so his back was to her. She washed him from top to bottom, not leaving any area out. His breathing became ragged and shallow as she caressed his firm, round buttocks with the cursed washcloth between his skin and her palm. He actually groaned between clenched teeth, her signal to stop. Now. Before she did something completely stupid. Slapping the rag in the basin, she rushed out of the room. The flesh between her legs contracted sharply, and she held herself over the bathtub without moving. She was soaked— head to toe. Man-oh-man. What she wouldn't give to forget who she was and what she'd come here to do. Behind her, she could feel Reb's hungry gaze on her back. She didn't have to wonder if he was as confused as she felt. She forced herself to dump the water, squeeze out the cloth and hang it over the edge of the tub. Without turning to look back at him, she said, "If you feel up to getting out of bed for a few minutes, I'll put the clean fitted sheet and pillowcases back on. They should be dry now. Stay put though. I'll help you." She turned on the faucet and washed the soap from the basin. Following that short minute, she returned to the main room of the cabin to find him dressed. Partially dressed anyway. She knew he'd done it to save himself from doing something stupid. While sitting, his too big T-shirt covered the fact that he remained painfully aroused. She saw his jeans were wide open by necessity once he stood. She dived 61


quickly under one of his arms to make sure he didn't collapse. "You better sit down before you fall down, Tiger." Without protest, he allowed her to lead him to the ratty chairs near the fireplace. She lowered him into one. He looked around them. "When did you become Molly Domestic?" he asked in awe. "What?" "I think it's cleaner in here than it's been since the cabin was built." Natalie glared at him. "Are you gonna spend every minute I'm here telling me how I used to be and how different I am now?" Without waiting for an answer, she stormed out the door, grabbed the bedding off the makeshift clothesline, then went back inside to make up the bed. "I am gonna find out why you're here, Adrienna. And what you know about why I'm here." Natalie tensed, knowing he'd notice but unable to stop herself. She glanced back over her shoulder and threw at him without emotion, "And I'm gonna find out if you're on drugs, Porter. Don't think I won't."

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Chapter 12 He could tell her back went stiff as a farm cat faced with a skunk. At least he didn't have to consider how bad he smelled anymore, Reb conceded, at the expense of the lingering erection that even now told him to foolishly take advantage of the intimate relationship he and Adrienna used to share. He wouldn't though. No temptation could convince him to make a mistake of that magnitude with her ever again. "Are you sure you're up to talking?" she asked. She had a pillow tucked under her chin, stuffing a fresh case around it. "I'm not up to much of anything, honey, but I'm conscious for the moment. Tell me what you know." She sighed then nodded. "First let me get this bed made, in case you take another header. Then I'll make you some weak iced tea. You really are in danger of becoming dehydrated. You haven't had any liquid since I got here, except the juice this morning." Which he'd promptly thrown up. Watching her move around the cabin, making the bed and then tea, he couldn't help thinking about her as Molly Domestic again. She'd always been more of a take-out/orderout girl. But the past wasn't all he thought about. Not when she straddled his mattress, working the fitted sheet around each corner, alternately showing off her gorgeous rear-end and her swaying breasts barely contained beneath the thin top she wore. Had she been aroused before, while bathing him? 63


Remembering her hard nipples jutting dangerous through the cotton shirt, he knew the truth. He swore at himself viscerally for even wanting to know whether or not she felt the same thing he had. His disgust with himself only increased when his cooling erection now started in a northward direction once more. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn't need this complication. He didn't want to trust her, even though it'd been so damn long since he trusted anyone. So long since he'd had another human being with him, easing his loneliness and taking care of him. Adrienna's unexpected softness and the changes in her messed with his head. Bad enough for him to worry he'd do something totally screwed up just to relieve his pain. Shoving his hair away from his face, he forced himself to look anywhere except at her. But then she came into the living room section of the main room and dragged an end table close to him. She went back into the kitchen to get iced tea and crackers. When she set both on the end table, her flowery scent floated to him just the way it had on the bed before. She leaned over to pour the iced tea, and her sexy hair actually stayed out of her face for once. She'd put it up into a very messy, adorable ponytail at the top her head, no doubt to keep it out of her way as she cleaned this shack from top to bottom. But Adrienna—practical? He had to be in some alternate reality for that to be the case.

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Scout came to beg, and she threw him some treats Reb recognized as beef jerky. Something she'd brought along because he knew he didn't have anything like it in the house. After she served them, she sat back with her own tea. For a minute, she just rubbed the glass over her sweaty face and the glistening tops of her breasts. Then she gulped the liquid in one long swallow. Reb watched her helplessly until she caught her breath after her drink and could speak. "Look, Reb, I know about Giles Jameson. I know he's the one who killed your father when you were fifteen. I know he's the one you and Raven exposed with your radio program. I know he killed Laura. Raven's son. And I know he wants to kill you. That's why you're hiding out here. You took the evidence you have on Jameson from Raven's house to protect her. Then you disappeared." Reb marveled that she not only knew what he'd tried to hide from those he loved, but that she so succinctly summed up his miserable life for the past two years. But Adrienna was an investigative reporter. She worked for some political publication in New York, and she had major connections all over the globe. He couldn't be surprised at how much she found out. She was a dog on a bone with a story this juicy. She wouldn't let go of it until she had every last scrap of meat off it. "You believed this guy Jameson worked for some covert government organization. Maybe it broke up after the exposé." He didn't say anything, not willing to share what he'd kept to himself for so long. He didn't believe it. He and Raven's 65


piddly radio program, which Reb had used to expose the covert organization and its corrupt leader, had barely been the tip of the iceberg. No way would a place with such farreaching potential fold over so little evidence. It made more sense that this guy Jameson, head of the nameless, faceless organization, had been ousted by his superiors. Jameson immediately came gunning for Reb. The only thing keeping Raven safe was the fact that Reb took and hid all the evidence he and Raven gathered on Jameson and the organization—most of which Raven hadn't been involved in gathering. He never told Raven just how much evidence he came up with because he didn't want to put her in jeopardy. Reb couldn't say for sure his actions did any good. For all he knew, Raven was already dead. Then the last two years really had been all for nothing. "You've been out here for a long time, Reb," Adrienna murmured. "There are some things you don't know." He glanced at her quickly. He had no way of tracking the news—beyond a simple radio—in this godforsaken cabin, isolated from the rest of the world. Here, he wouldn't be able to access information the way he had as an investigative journalist. Had ... ? "Raven and her husband are safe," she told him without preface, and he let out a harsh sigh of relief. "They're in protective custody. Jameson can't get to them." "FBI?" he guessed. "How did they get involved?" "They've got a long file on his corruption and evil deeds. They know Raven doesn't have any evidence." "And they want the evidence—wherever it is." 66


She leaned forward, concern in her compelling eyes. "You should give yourself up to them, Reb. You could live again. You could be free and safe." Free. Safe. Hell, he couldn't even imagine a life like that anymore. He'd long since given up any hope he'd ever have either again. "Why should I believe you're not working with Jameson yourself, honey?" "If I was working with him, you'd already be dead. Anyway, why would I suggest that you face him with some protection by turning yourself in?" she said logically. Because she'd relieved the worry he lived so long with by telling him Raven and Rusty were safe, Reb found himself speaking of the memory that still taunted him. "I did face him. Once. He came to me." "What? When?" she demanded. "Just before I took the evidence from Raven's house. Maybe he thought I wouldn't know it was him. He told me he was one of the good guys, despite all the evidence I had to the contrary. Sometimes in his line of work, he said, it happened that a man just trying to do his job and rid the world of evil ended up looking like a criminal himself. He told me the guy with him worked for the FBI, and I'd be safe as soon as I gave them my evidence." Adrienna seemed to be holding her breath. Then she spoke again. "You didn't, though, did you?" Reb shook his head. "I didn't believe he was a good guy any more than I believed his sidekick was FBI. But I told 67


them I had the evidence. I had it—and Raven didn't know anything, and she didn't have anything. I said I'd give the evidence to them. That I hid it with a buddy of mine, and I was tired of being hunted for it after they killed Laura and Ripley." "You said you hid it with Raven's brother Rusty?" she guessed. He nodded. "In Jameson's hearing, I called Rusty and told him I was coming over and we'd go together to get the evidence. Then I told Jameson we'd have it for him in four hours. We'd meet him on the Navy Pier and give him everything then." "They didn't believe you, did they?" Reb snorted a laugh. "No. Probably not. But they couldn't take the risk. Crazy as it sounds, when they left I fell asleep." He still couldn't believe that part himself. "I woke up two hours later. I felt really weird. Foggy. And I knew I had to get out of there. I had to get the rest of the evidence from Raven and tell her to be careful." "So what did you do? Rusty must have wondered what'd happened to you." "He wondered why I was so late, yeah. He was worried. But we'd worked it all out beforehand. I had a feeling even before that point it would go down bad. You know Rusty and me look alike. I went to his place. We switched clothes. I knew Jameson and his crony followed me despite saying they wouldn't since they had other things to do before our meeting at the Pier. They ended up following Rusty around, thinking he was me. I went to Raven's. I got the evidence and told her 68


not to let her guard down. Then I disappeared. I worried about Rusty and Raven, but there wasn't much I could do. I figured Rusty's smart enough to handle it. Once Jameson figured out Rusty wasn't me, Rusty would do a good job convincing him he didn't have a clue what I meant when I said me and him hid the evidence together." "Well, they haven't pursued him, so it must have worked." "He's okay?" "He's fine." "Have you seen him?" Adrienna shook her head, leaning forward to refill her glass and remind him with a silent gesture toward his own glass that he needed to get hydrated. He brought his tea to his mouth and drank a few small sips to see how his stomach would accept it. "I haven't seen them, but I checked up on Rusty and Raven before I came here," she told him. "They're fine." She took another long swallow of her second glass of ice tea, while he felt immense relief. He'd told himself he couldn't worry about anyone except himself here, but he'd worried all right. More than his own mind allowed him to realize. "Why didn't you tell Raven everything you knew about Jameson before any of the bad things happened as a consequence of your first exposé?" Reb shrugged. "I wanted to see how the first report we did together went over. If anything came of it, if there were any threats, then I'd know I had to stop and find my father's killer without Raven. I didn't want to put her in jeopardy. I guess I 69


did that anyway. Jameson killed her son. He took away everything she cared about." "You came straight here with the evidence?" Adrienna asked. He shook his head. "I moved around for a long time. Often." Just like he knew she would because of her investigative nature, she didn't hesitate to ask, "So what did you do with the evidence?" Reb didn't look at her, watching instead the breeze coming in unfettered through the windows. He'd kept them covered for so long, he rarely knew the day from the night unless he went outside, which he hadn't done a lot either. "I hid it where nobody would think to look for it." "In this cabin?" she persisted. Her curiosity always got the better of her. At least that much fit with the old her. She could never accept half a story. It was what had made her such an incredible journalist. But he couldn't allow her to become involved in this mess. Laura was dead because of his curiosity and relentless drive to know the whole story after he'd watched his father murdered by Jameson. Raven also faced loss and danger because of him. He couldn't risk destroying another woman. He not only had a bounty on his own head, but enough blood covered his hands to last him more than one lifetime. No way would he destroy Adrienna, too. "How come you guessed I was here?" he asked, glancing back to see her watching him closely. 70


"I remembered you came here all the time when you were younger." "Brought you along once." She nodded. His stomach felt drum-hollow when he sipped more of the tea. Reaching forward, he took one of the crackers. She watched him in satisfaction. He ate just enough to keep his stomach from rebelling again. "How do you feel?" she asked once he set down his empty glass. "Better." She got up and took their dishes to the sink without complaint. His head felt all right enough to get up and follow her into the kitchen. Standing next to her at the counter while she washed the few dishes, he said the last thing he wanted to, "You need to leave tomorrow morning, Ad. I can't have you here." "And I can't leave you alone," she said without looking at him. "As you and I both plainly know, you're not well. You can barely feed yourself, let alone your guard dog." Her intended slight did what she intended it to do only insofar as he felt embarrassed and guilty for almost killing his only companion. The fact of the matter was, he couldn't let her stay. That couldn't even be an option. "It's not safe here. I can't protect you." She laughed like his words rung ironic to her. "Yeah, I know you're not up to your fighting strength, Tiger, so maybe I can protect you while you recover. I'm strong, I'm healthy, and I've taken quite a few self-defense courses in the last few years." 71


Putting the last dish in the drainer, she faced him, wiping her hands on the towel. "Like it or not, Reb, you need me." She walked past him. "I don't need anyone else to worry about," he shouted after her, making himself dizzy with the effort. He reached for the table to hold himself steady. Glancing back at him with her hand on the screen door, she said loud and clear, "You don't need to worry about me. And I'm not leaving, so save your breath, Porter." She went out to the porch and started taking things off the makeshift clothesline. Reb stared at her, shaking his head in anger. But, for the first time since she'd arrived, she was in character. Adrienna and her stubbornness. He wouldn't get her out of here without a hell of a fight.

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Chapter 13 "You've kept the tea and crackers down for quite a few hours," Natalie said later in the evening. He'd just come out of the bathroom. Thankfully on his own two legs this time. "Think you can handle some soup?" He glanced at her, a hint of irritation in his expression. "You don't have to wait on me. I can open a damn can of soup." He'd been silent and punishing since she announced her intention to stay come hell or high water. She knew his quiet wrath was intended to make her change her mind, but she refused to back down. It wasn't as if she had that option anyway. They might as well make the best of things. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Would you like to argue, or should I just make some damn dinner?" she asked in her most friendly tone. Exhausted defeat crossed his face. "Whatever. I'll lay down until it's ready." "Sounds like the best plan yet." She opened the refrigerator and started taking out a load of the fresh vegetables she'd brought with her. "How's Diego?" Everything inside her went dead still at the question she'd known he'd ask sooner rather than later. He was bound to ask about his son ... the son he and Adrienna conceived together and she gave up for adoption. Diego was fifteen now, with no more idea now than he'd had earlier in his life that his parents 73


were any other than the mother and father he'd always known. Adrienna had made sure of that. Turning, she saw Reb fumbling with something on the nightstand near the bathroom. Then he dropped onto the bed. Even though his eyes were closed, she knew he waited impatiently for an answer, and she was terrified to go into this subject. Reading the files on this man, she'd felt a kind of devastation about Reb's son. Diego had been a few months old before Adrienna even told him of their child's existence. When she finally admitted the truth, she refused to allow Reb to meet his son. The couple she gave Diego to had been friends of hers. Reb lost any chance of ever becoming a father to his only son. Natalie felt tears sting her eyes and knew she couldn't talk about this in any way except a matter-of-fact manner. She'd give herself away completely if she did anything else. "He's fine," she managed in a voice as soft as his when he asked about his son. "He's a straight A student, just like you were. He's healthy." What else can I say without falling apart? "Is he happy?" Natalie's mind raced. How had Adrienna given up her son— the son of a man she loved as much as she seemed to hate— as if she considered the boy a nuisance to her? As if he reminded of something bad when he was a sweet, innocent child? A beautiful child who could have brought her happiness if she'd kept him. Natalie felt a surge of anger and hate for the dead woman. 74


Feeling no confidence at all in what she was doing, she offered, "Why wouldn't he be? He's got a good family. Parents who love him more than anything." "Knew you'd say that," Reb said sarcastically, and the bitterness in his voice didn't make Natalie feel any better about the situation. As she'd known he would, Reb still grieved for his son. On one hand, she was glad she'd said the 'right' things—the unemotional things Adrienna would have said herself—but on the other she wanted nothing more than put her arms around Reb and comfort him for his loss. Her cold response certainly hadn't pleased him, expected though it was. Unable to deal with the heaviness of the past and his scorn, she went back to making dinner. Fortunately, his fatigue overtook him and he slept. She prepared the homemade vegetable beef soup alone, sparring with her own tormenting thoughts. But, after a while, she forced herself to concentrate on the mission that brought her here. So far, Reb told her little of what she didn't already know from reading his personal files and the case files the Network had on the situation. She'd searched this cabin and a small part of the clearing surrounding it, for the evidence. Where exactly was 'a place no one would think to look'? She'd literally searched every square inch in the cabin, including the fridge and freezer and up the chimney. She'd tested all the floor boards to see if any were loose. She'd also done a thorough search of the shed just beside the cabin with no luck. 75


Tomorrow, she'd have to search more of the areas outside the cabin. The thought of going through the garbage pile was horrendous, not simply because it'd be disgusting. She knew the stench would recall the memory she didn't want to bring to mind. Having a seizure might blow her cover. How could she take the risk? On the other hand, the garbage was exactly the sort of place no one would think to look. Therefore, she had no choice but to go through it thoroughly. She might also find evidence of Reb's drug use there. But first she'd search the surrounding woods in all directions. Her team would search the whole of the property and Jolie's house while the family was out. Though she couldn't imagine Reb leaving his evidence there, they couldn't neglect the possibility. Unless she could get him to tell her, she'd have her work cut out for her finding his evidence. The last thing she needed was for him to get suspicious of her—more suspicious than he already was. He'd set himself against telling her where it was, but she had a knack for getting people to change their minds through careful persuasiveness. When dinner was ready and she'd set the table, she went over to the bed. Reb woke almost as soon as she touched his forehead. "I can bring the soup over here..." He shook his head, his expression forbidding. "No. I'm not an invalid. I can eat at the table. By myself." Bristling, she said cheerfully, "Well, great. 'Cause I'm too hungry to spoon feed you, Tiger." Just as she'd expected, he brushed her away when she tried to help him stand, but dizziness prevented him from putting her off once she caught him. She heard his stomach 76


growling hollowly as he sat at the table in front of the soup and thick, warm bread. "You made this?" he asked in disbelief. "With my own two hands." "You can't cook. But it sure smells good." He picked up his spoon, not looking at her when he mumbled, "Thanks. For taking care of me." Natalie couldn't resist giving him a beaming smile he caught only the tail-end of. "My pleasure. Now eat." He frowned again, then shook his head like he didn't want to consider whatever ping-ponged around inside his stubborn brain at the moment. In relief, she watched him eat slowly and hungrily. She dug in with him, pleased at how well the meal had turned out considering how little she had to work with. The soup would last through tomorrow, and then they were down to canned food—a thought she didn't relish considering her fervent love of three appetizing meals a day— until Jolie brought the supplies she'd promised to leave by the fence in the morning. "You know, the investigative journalist muse inside me is going bonkers trying to figure out where you hid the evidence Jameson's after," she said carefully, but also as off-hand as she could make her tone. "I bet," he said around a mouthful of bread. He refused to elaborate beyond that, and her mind railed in frustration at the impasse. She'd have to try another tack. "Look. I have connections with the American government. If I consider them trustworthy, would you be willing to give your evidence to them?" 77


He gave that increasingly familiar snort-laugh. "You said yourself the FBI has a rap sheet on Jameson. Why do they need my evidence? If they can't bring him in on what they have on their own, what makes you think my evidence will make any difference at all?" "I don't necessarily think it will, but don't you wanna get out of here, Reb? I mean, man-oh-man, don't you wanna be free?" His gaze came up, and he looked at her with a seriousness that made her feel scolded and thoroughly put in her place for not considering on her own what he said next. "Until Jameson is dead, I'll never be free. He's got enough contacts that he'll never go to jail for any of his crimes, regardless of how damaging the evidence against him." Natalie couldn't argue with him. Everything he said was true. If Reb turned himself in, he'd be put into protective custody and he'd be no freer than he was out here on his own. And Jameson would hunt Reb until he was dead in either case. Sighing, she shoved the last bite of her bread in her mouth and chewed in frustration. "So what do you do around here all day? Stare at the walls?" "That about sums it up." She groaned out loud. "We're gonna be insane inside a week." "You know where the door is," he said, predictably. But the fatigue in his voice made her study him closer. She'd expected that with a good meal he'd get some color in his 78


cheeks and pep up. But he didn't look better at all. She observed him carefully. "I think you should go back to bed." He gave her no argument, nodding and allowing her to help him to his feet and over to the bed. He fell asleep before she brought the clean puke bowl, in case dinner didn't agree with him. Natalie watched him sleep for some time, her worry making her crazy. What if this sickness of his is worse than drug withdrawal? Did Jameson do something to Reb during those two hours Reb assumed he slept, before he ran with the evidence? She stared at the sick man, endlessly considering options. What if Jameson poisoned him, or injected him with some virus that not only made him ill but will also eventually kill him? Natalie turned to look out the window in frustration. If that scenario proves correct, shouldn't I risk taking him out despite what my team leader ordered? If she did that, though, she might never find his evidence, and she'd be putting the alpha mission in jeopardy. Natalie had no idea what to do. Did she do her duty? Or act out of something she refused to dub anything more than personal concern?

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Chapter 14 Natalie sat cross-legged on the bed beside Reb, shaking slightly as she anticipated the worst. The past couple hours had been horrendous. Reb started throwing up only twenty minutes after dinner, and he kept on and on, vomiting every ten minutes or less following that. She seriously worried vital organs would come unhinged soon. Then he began convulsing. Beyond making sure he didn't choke on his tongue or hurt himself, she held him tightly, murmuring comfort she felt came off more desperate than consoling. The comatose state he fell into once the convulsions finally abated scared her, especially when he became delirious and started sweating, shivering and begging for 'what he needed' again. His pulse was racing and shallow each time she checked it. His sleep for the last fifteen minutes had been agitated, even twitchy. Natalie bit her lip, wishing she could be decisive in what she should do here. She was a mere Level 6 op—with the promise of a promotion to Level 5 if she completed this mission successfully. She'd never done an undercover mission above a Class C status before—and only that once. She couldn't figure out why her superiors had jumped her up like this. Yeah, oh yeah, she'd been excited when she first saw the assignment details. But their actions hadn't been done before, or had been done very rarely. The Network almost never advanced someone in the way they'd advanced her to a mission this complex. Moving through the ranks was slower than death. Going up in levels required endless work and skill. 80


Getting past Level 4 alone was a miracle—she didn't expect herself to be ready for that in years. Yet no one below Level 3 ever took on a Class B mission. What the hell were her superiors thinking? She couldn't handle this. Whatever was wrong with Reb seemed to be getting worse. The voice of Natalie's mentor, Kirsten Ulrick, floated into her head to annoy her. "Think. Slow down. Clear your mind. Only when you're calm can you make good decisions. She shook her head. How can I think? I'm too worried. What if there's something serious wrong with Reb? What if he's dying? A sob flew into her throat at the question. No. No, I can't let that happen. I can't. Without thinking, she slipped down beside Reb so she could put her arms around him. "I'm here. I'm taking care of you," she whispered, blinking against tears blinding her. "I won't let anything happen to you, Reb. I promise." In his restless sleep, he seemed to respond to her voice, to her fingers gently stroking his face. He drew her closer until she had no choice but to put one of her legs over his. His forehead touched hers. Minutes slid by, and she realized she was all but holding the air in her lungs until they burned from the unconscious effort. She waited for the moment when she'd be sure he was all right. At last, she recognized his even, shallow breaths settling into peaceful sleep. Though an hour or more passed, she couldn't fully discard her worry. If this continued days from now, she'd have no choice but to pull him out of here. In a 81


purely logical assessment, she concluded that if he died the evidence might never be found. Oh, but I'm not purely logical in his case. I haven't been from the start. I came here because I was told to retrieve Reb's evidence. Yet I know I came for more than what my superiors ever imagined. I came for Reb. After memorizing every detail of his file these past few weeks, she breathed him, plain and simple. She'd come to care for him. Deeply. More deeply than she'd allowed herself to admit. Being with him here, getting to know him and the pain he wore like physical and emotional scars, taking care of him so intimately... Natalie opened her eyes to drink in his serene face, only inches from hers. Butterfly tender, she danced loving fingertips over his jaw, his full but colorless lips. Man-oh-man, I'm in trouble here.

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Chapter 15 "You know what you need. You know where to find it. Remember where you hid it. Remember that you need it." Natalie's eyes snapped open at the sound of the blaring radio alarm and Reb's voice. Her mind assessed the situation in a heartbeat, yet she deliberately made no move so she wouldn't jolt Reb. He'd spoken the words robotically over the radio while sitting up. She watched him rise and walk unsteadily toward the bathroom. Only when he disappeared inside did she noiselessly follow him. He'd turned on the light. Standing where he couldn't see her beside the door, she watched him reach for the medicine cabinet. He opened it, and his fingers moved inside it. Natalie remembered exactly what she'd inventoried inside it. What did he ... ? But the sound of a spring releasing stopped her consideration that some of the normal items had been tampered with. The inner shelves of the cabinet followed the door. He reached inside the hole beyond it. An instant later, he held a syringe, a vial, and a piece of rubber. He sat on the edge of the tub and expertly tied off his upper arm. Not an easy task to do to yourself, Natalie thought. But it was obvious to her that he'd done it so many times before he'd become a pro. After filling the syringe with the contents of the vial, he brought the needle to his arm. She noticed then that his gaze looked a million miles away as he worked. 83


She stepped out of hiding. "So, you were lying to me," she managed, barely able to keep the fury out of her voice. The radio behind her was so loud, she pushed the bathroom door behind her closed to block it out. His stupefied expression made her head even hotter. She'd caught him in the very act. How dare he pretend he couldn't fathom his own behavior? Reb swore in shock, dropping the syringe. It was only then she realized his eyes weren't in that trance-state any longer. For all intents and purposes, he just woke up. Was it all an act—humiliation at being caught getting himself a fix? She wouldn't have let him lie with her cross-examining presence. Natalie stalked over to the medicine cabinet and looked into the secret cabinet behind the expected one. The shelves were lined four-deep with the vials. She lifted one out. All the labels were exactly the same with a code that matched. These weren't standard in any sense of the word. He hadn't gotten these from a pharmacy or hospital. So where the hell had they come from? She moved over to Reb, still stunned. She tore off the rubber band, then examined both of his arms. His veins weren't a mess, the way those of intravenous users were. No bruises at all covered them. "Where did you get this stuff?" she demanded, keeping her gaze level with his ashamed one. "Or did you bring an endless stash with you when you came?" For a long, pleading moment, he said nothing—just stared at her with that befuddled expression. "I don't know, Ad." "What don't you know?" 84


He shook his head, and she could tell he was frantic. "How it got there. What the hell I'm doing with it." "How could you not know what you're doing? How could you not know you're an addict?" An odd look, something like fear, crept into his eyes. "I don't know," he said on barely a whisper. What else could she believe? A few minutes ago, he spoke, rose from the bed like a mindless zombie. His gaze had been quite vacant, indicating he'd been completely unaware of his actions. He'd been programmed, like a rat in a maze. She wondered if Jameson did something to him during the lost two hours in his apartment before he fled here. Reb had mentioned he'd fallen asleep. Yeah, Jameson had been the ultimate master when it came to programming humans and animals during his years in the organization. It wasn't a stretch to accept that he'd done something to Reb. The only thing she couldn't figure out was why he'd do it, unless it was to make Reb insane enough to lead to suicide. Jameson would have to be pretty confident he'd find the evidence with or without Reb alive. Taking a deep, calm breath to get her mind working productively, Natalie glanced back at Reb's stash. "What do you know, Reb?" He swallowed hard, shaking his head once more. "I know I get sick a lot. For two weeks, I'm fine. Then I'm sick a week straight." Keeping her tone non-confrontational so he wouldn't shut himself off from her, she asked, "Is that all, Tiger? You didn't know you've been injecting this stuff into your veins? You 85


didn't know you're addicted and going through withdrawal, and that's why you're so sick most of the time? You didn't know about the stash behind the medicine cabinet?" "No." The hint of defensiveness in his tone made her wonder if he was lying. But she wasn't sure why he'd lie. Many people had drug habits. His would certainly be justifiable, considering the current state of his existence. Who wouldn't want to block out the solitude, fears and loneliness any way possible? "I'm tired," he murmured, and she saw how white his face had become. The horrendous hours she'd nursed him prevented her from looking for drugs ... and the evidence he had against the Network ... immediately. She helped him stand and cross back out to the bed. When she clicked off the radio alarm, an idea began to form in her mind. Glancing at Reb, she saw he'd turned away from her and appeared to be asleep again. While she worked things out in her mind, she got the garbage from under the kitchen sink and cleaned out the hidden hole full of the drug stash. The cubby was clean beyond that. She searched for another hiding place behind it, where he might have put the evidence, but there was nothing beyond the secret shelves. Retaining one vial of the drug, she tied the drug stash tightly in a bag and hid it in the shed. Then she got herself a cup of tea and sat near the fireplace in the dark, watching Reb and letting the germ of an idea fully develop in her mind. 86


Her chest tight with dread, she walked over to Reb's nightstand and quietly re-set the alarm for two minutes from the current time. She went into the dark alcove of the kitchen to wait. Just as she feared, as soon as the alarm went off with a blare of the radio, Reb sat up, mumbling, "You know what you need. You know where to find it. Remember where you hid it. Remember you need it." Only too easily, she imagined Giles Jameson and his partner in crime, former Network fourth-in-Command turned traitor, Roan Emory, spending hours conditioning Reb in just this way to make sure his unconscious mind knew exactly what to do when the alarm went off. She saw the light go on in the bathroom and blinked back tears of fury. She rushed to turn off the radio and go to him. He blindly searched for what should have been behind the medicine cabinet. She put her arms around him, saying his name softly. "It's all right, Reb. You got what you need. Let's get you back in bed." When she helped him lay down again, she saw the trance look had been lifted from his gaze. He was awake and conscious. "I did it again, didn't I?" She nodded. "You've been conditioned to do it. Once every two weeks, you set your clock radio to go off at four a.m. I saw you turn it on yesterday, just after we had dinner, but I didn't understand why you did until just now. I tested it and set the alarm. Just like before, when the alarm went off, you got up saying, 'You know what you need. You know where to find it. Remember where you hid it. Remember you need it.' In the past, your unconscious mind did exactly what Jameson 87


intended it to. You injected yourself with the drug. Because the conditioning was buried in your unconscious mind, you have absolutely no memory of injecting yourself. Your body's become addicted to the drug, though, and so you go into withdrawal soon after the effects wear off. You're sick until your next fix, although you might experience one or two days where you feel normal again. It's why your arms, your veins, are still in good shape. They heal completely between injections." The terror in his eyes made her take his hand to silently reassure him he wasn't alone anymore. "So Jameson knows where I am?" he asked weakly. Natalie shook her head. "He doesn't need to know where you are to know you're following their conditioning. Both Jameson and his partner are well trained in the art of mind control and planting unconscious and subconscious suggestions. Remember when you said Jameson came and asked you for the evidence? When he left, you fell asleep. You thought you did anyway. But you weren't asleep during that time, Reb. He spent those two hours conditioning you. He probably planted the signal for you to wake up with the sound of the door closing behind him. He would've made sure you had no memory of those couple hours. When you became conscious, you felt strange, didn't you? As if you jolted awake? Yet you had no memory of falling sleep in the first place." "How do you know all this?" Reb asked hoarsely, closing his moist eyes and covering them with his arm. 88


"I'd have to teach you about sleep patterns to make you fully understand it, but during REM sleep, the mind can be conditioned to say and do just about anything. Nothing you did during that time would register while you did it, nor after. Your brain's been trained not to record the things you do and say when you inject yourself and get rid of the evidence." "You've done a lotta research on this," he muttered. "I did a story on it once. What do you remember an hour ago—before I woke you up and you saw what you were holding?" He shook his head. She knew he didn't remember anything. "And you don't remember anything before I woke you up this time." "So what the hell? Am I gonna do this stuff without my own knowledge forever?" "No. As long as you don't hear a radio coming on abruptly or an alarm of some sort, you'll be fine. But you will have to be reconditioned so the effect of the radio alarm going off won't trigger the series of events in your unconscious mind. I don't have the expertise to help you do it, unfortunately. We'll just have to avoid alarm clocks and radios until you can get help." The set of his jaw told her how frightened he felt by what'd been happening to him all this time. His arm still covered his eyes, but his body shuddered periodically. Gently, she tugged his arm away. "Reb, I know it doesn't seem like it, but this is good news." Disbelief filled his expression. "How do ya figure, lady?" 89


"It means your sickness isn't serious. In a week or two—if you don't take any more of the drug—you'll be completely free of it. This is just withdrawal you've been experiencing." Until she had the vial contents tested, she wouldn't be confident in her own mind of that, but she didn't want him to worry any more about it than he had to. For some reason, she didn't expect the ragged sob that escaped him. "I ... shit, I thought it was something else. Something bad. Cancer. Some disease. I couldn't leave here long enough to get diagnosed or cured. I was too damn sick to consider leaving." His inappropriate chuckle spilled tears from his eyes, and Natalie became flooded with her own emotions as she watched him. From his point of view, he'd brushed with death, she knew, and realized he didn't want to die. No matter how miserable and isolated he'd been out here, he wanted his life. At the very least, she rejoiced that it would help him fight not only the withdrawal faster but also fight for his life when the time came. "I can't imagine what it's been like for you out here, isolated from anyone you cared about for so long. I don't like to imagine your state of mind, Tiger." In the silence that followed her words, his gaze locked with hers and held. As bad as she wanted to, she couldn't reach for him. She couldn't even tell him she was here now and she cared about him. So much. He wasn't ready for that. Too late, but she couldn't let herself fall for him. She just couldn't. 90


Chapter 16 They were both awake, neither able to sleep even with the reassuring presence of the other nearby. For a long time, they simply lay in the dark, in the moonlight spilling like silvery fairy dust over the sheets. Then Reb said, "I'd think it'd make you happy to know I'm suffering." No bitterness laced his words. Only grief. Not remembering her cover, she gasped at the implication of his words. "Why would I ever want that?" "Isn't that what you wanted? To punish me for not realizing how you felt about me all that time, even before the summer we were lovers? For using you and then dropping you like none of it meant anything?" You're supposed to be Adrienna Kelly. But can't people change? Even a person who seemed unable to let a grudge go? "Reb, you were twenty-two years old. You weren't mature enough to consider anything more than a summer fling. Neither was I. I realize that now. It took a long time for me to figure it out, but the past is the past. It shouldn't matter anymore. We've both changed and matured." She recognized his snort-laugh of disbelief and wished fervently that they could get past this. Why couldn't he just accept the changes in her instead of constantly throwing her cover's sins in her face? "When has anything ever been in the past for you, Ad? For Pete's sake, you left Chicago that summer and said you were never coming back. Then you call me out of the blue and drop 91


the bomb that you had our son and got rid of him when he was only a couple months old. You never gave me the chance to meet him. He'll never know I'm his father. You took that from me as penance for my sins against you." She heard the wateriness in his tone and wanted to reach out to him. But he wasn't ready for a gesture of that magnitude. And he wasn't done with his pain either. "You went through three husbands, and I know even there, you were punishing me. And that fiasco—at the tenyear class reunion. Hell. My wife left us alone to mend the past, and you ... I let you ... You seduced me just to punish me." Natalie's throat felt raw with emotion. "Why did you let me?" she asked in a small voice. "I wanted you to forgive me. I did so many stupid things because I wanted you to tell me you forgave me. I should've known better. You wanted Laura to leave me. You wanted me to be alone, after losing both her and you, and I'd never forget my sins against the two of you." "But Laura didn't leave you," Natalie pointed out. The Network had uncovered most of the facts of Reb and Adrienna's relationship in subtle ways. Some of the minor details had to be assumed or fudged. Time and absence would have to explain her forgetfulness of those points if he began questioning her. "No, she should've left me. But even when I told her the truth about everything, she stayed. She said..." His voice broke, and Natalie had to physically restrain herself from 92


holding him. He wouldn't accept her sorrow. She knew she couldn't take his rejection right now either. "She said she loved me too much. She said she'd work through it somehow, as long as I promised I'd never do it again. She never brought it up after that. She never gave me an ounce of what I deserved." Unlike Adrienna. Adrienna spent her life seeking tears of blood from Reb. Natalie had the feeling he'd given her those and then some, but nothing could ever satisfy the woman's pathological need for revenge on the only man she'd ever truly loved. Ironically, Adrienna Kelly didn't know the first thing about real love. "If you're here now, it's to punish me," Reb concluded. "I know you'll never be able to love me or forgive me." Natalie sensed from the first time she read the files that Reb felt debilitating guilt all these years. Ten years. Most men would have given themselves a break in ten minutes. He turned away suddenly and rose from the bed. She protested on grounds of his health. He wasn't listening to her. Going into the bathroom, he flipped on the light, then closed the door behind him. Natalie scrambled to the end of the bed, afraid he'd be in danger alone. After all his vomiting the night before, he was probably dehydrated and unsteady on his feet. He needed rest. She stood and put her ear quietly to the closed door. She heard him peeing and conceded that he couldn't be as dehydrated as she assumed if he could manage that. 93


A minute later, she heard the water come on and the sound of tooth-brushing followed. She backed up to the bed. Somehow she had to convince him that Adrienna had turned from a compulsive psycho to a normal, forgiving woman. If she didn't, Reb would start insisting she get out again. While she wouldn't leave him alone no matter how insistent he became, she had to get him to trust her. She pushed the thought, 'Get him to love me' away. Too dangerous to think like that. When the door opened, he came out but didn't come back to bed. He didn't even look at her before he went out to the porch. Scout whined from the corner, then followed him. She forced down the silly tears of rejection that crammed behind her eyes as she looked at his rigid back beyond the screen door. Moonlight lit up the night so she could see his every movement, his every sigh. Just leave it alone. You didn't come here to make amends for a dead woman. You can't go out there. You go to him, you let yourself feel his pain like this, and you're going down a one-way street. No turning back. Try explaining the consequences to your superiors—to the Network shrink who truly believes she can predict my every move. Natalie couldn't leave him alone with his torment, despite her head lecture. She had no doubt Jocelyn would have known ten minutes ago exactly what she'd end up doing at this moment. Rising from the bed in a fluid, determined movement, Natalie went out to the porch and put her arms around Reb from the back. When she pressed her cheek to the lean and 94


smooth muscles in his shoulders, he went even more rigid. Instinctively, she tightened her hold on him to prevent him from pushing her away. "You've seen the changes in me, Reb," she pleaded. "Then believe the truth. I didn't come here to make you suffer anymore. I don't wanna punish you ever again." Anger laced his words, spoken in the over-warm night air: "Then why are you here, Adrienna? I can't even begin to imagine. Unless you just want my evidence, no questions asked. Would handing you my death on a platter finally satisfy you? Could you forgive me then?" The nastiness in his voice undid her, especially since he was right. She needed that evidence. But it was the job. It wasn't her heart. It wasn't in her to get what she needed from him that way. "I told you, I found out what happened to you. I was afraid for you, Reb. I was terrified you were dead. I couldn't stand the thought. It put everything in perspective for me. That kind of thing tends to do that, you know. Please believe me." Surprising and wounding her further, he shrugged her embrace off. With the words, "I don't believe it" he moved closer to the porch railing. The way he grabbed for it told her he wasn't well. Only his anger had gotten him this far. She rushed to him as he swayed on his feet. Quickly, she led him to the chair a foot away and helped him put his head between his knees to combat his dizziness. "You like to have me carry you around, don't you, Tiger?" she said, light tone doing little to cover the heaviness in her 95


chest. She knelt in front of him on the aged wood of the porch. "You really do need to stay off your feet for a day or two until you're stronger." When he lifted his head, she caught her lip in agony at his expression. The intensity in his gaze left her completely boneless. She didn't move a muscle when he reached a hand out, cradling her face in it, his gaze locked with hers like he wanted to pull every last secret out of her—by force, if necessary. He leaned forward slightly, and she took his weight, afraid he'd topple forward in a dead faint if she didn't. But his gaze wasn't only filled with weakness, anger and grief. She didn't dare allow herself to speculate on what else was there until his hand went to the back of her neck. He tugged her forward. She came willingly, and his mouth lowered. It took a lifetime for it to touch hers. When his lips finally made contact, it was enough to simply taste the cool mintiness. She grabbed for him, insinuating herself between his legs to get closer. Her hunger for him went rolling out of control from start to finish, straight over the cliff she'd been on since she learned about this mission. She fell, wanting nothing more than to let this sweet, sexy perfection continue. Needing him was a complication she'd considered only in theory. A good operative had a plan for any and every scenario that might come up. This was a risk she couldn't take, not without setting in motion a domino effect she wasn't sure she'd be able to stop. His hands slipped down, forward, brushing the rock hard tips of her breasts for an earth-shattering moment. Only her 96


training allowed her to get herself to force him away. The dangerous look of desire on his face made her take a deep, unsteady breath. "Better be careful, Tiger," she murmured. "If all the blood pools in one area, I'll be carrying you back to bed in a way you're not reckoning on." He didn't even smile.

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Chapter 17 Adrienna slept next to him, huddled like she was cold, a foot away. She'd nursed him most of yesterday, he acknowledged. Wild as that was, the kiss had been ten times more unprecedented. Especially him initiating it. He knew better than to be sucked in by her beguiling eyes. Despite sexual attraction to her, the fact of his life was that he'd spent what felt like a lifetime willing himself to love her—his own penance for how he'd wronged her so selfishly that summer. But he'd never found love for Adrienna. Last night, hell, he'd come dangerously close for the first time. Because of the changes in her? He couldn't answer that. Even in the clear light of morning, the past hanging between them big as life, he wanted her in an unbearable way. Different, oh yeah. Physically, she seems different, too. But what's changed? Same thick waterfall of blond hair. Same eyes, though the brows aren't so unnaturally perfect anymore. Reb couldn't be sure, but her face didn't seem as squareshaped as he remembered it. Her cheekbones appeared slightly more prominent. Hell, he couldn't remember her mouth driving him this insane either. Just looking at the plump pillows, recalling how she'd reacted to his initially tentative kiss... She feels different to me.

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The shape of her lips beneath his, even the revelation of her mutual passion, didn't match the memories he harbored. The memories were nowhere near as intense as the reality. I wanted her so damn bad last night, I thought I'd lose my ever-lovin' mind if I didn't kiss her. If I didn't touch her. Until that happened, the ground beneath him had been unsteady. Now it rocked in a whole new realm of need. When the hell had wanting Adrienna grounded him? He reached his hand out to her, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip. Instantly, as if they were intimately connected, he saw her nipples harden instantly, pointing deliciously, even through the thin cotton top and her bra. Reb pulled away like he'd been burned, a groan working its way from a place inside him he'd thought no longer existed. Blood surged through him again, hardening his manhood like it'd been most of the night. Guilt could keep a man from pleasure in all forms. This one, in particular, had departed from his life since his wife's death. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so completely focused on a woman's mouth, the heavy curve of her breast with those beautiful tips so eager for his caresses. Right now, he would have given just about anything to be able to bring Adrienna awake in a sensual way. The past reared up, damning him for his thoughts. He pulled back from what was happening to him, maybe based purely on proximity and long absence from temptation. After all the hell he'd been through with this woman, how could he even consider screwing his head and his life up with her again? 99


Adrienna wasn't the person he'd assumed she was as a teenager. Truth be told, he'd paid little if any attention to her as anyone other than Raven's best friend. He knew her parents divorced when she was a young kid. Her mom had a steady stream of 'boyfriends' and husbands going in and out of their shabby apartment door. The old lady's vices were well-known at school, though Adrienna rarely talked about them. When he, Raven and Adrienna comprised the school newspaper staff, he'd noticed a few more things about Adrienna. She worked hard to get B's, and she came alive when she went after a story, no matter how unimportant. Because of her notorious problems with her mother, she spent a lot of time with him and Raven, school and home, hanging out even on breaks from school during the holidays. Sometimes she had a tendency to get in the way, despite her withdrawn nature which he later realized covered her depression. He couldn't remember how many times he'd asked Raven's brother Rusty to distract Adrienna so he and Raven could be alone together. Reb had been obsessed with Raven Pujotes for a long time. She'd developed early, and his flirtations proved successful when she gave him her virginity at the what-hadn't-seemednearly-so-young-then age of fourteen. The summer he turned twenty-two, he and Raven had lived together. She'd been offered a job with her uncle in Hawaii. The opportunity had been too good for her to turn down. She asked him not to come with her, knowing what a distraction he'd be—or made himself into, needing attention. 100


He'd wanted every ounce of her attention by then. If he'd known she'd meet her future husband that summer and marry him only a few weeks afterward, he probably would have followed her to Hawaii much sooner. Unfortunately, he'd taken some summer classes, the same ones Adrienna signed up for. In between classes and misery without Raven, he'd noticed how Adrienna finally blossomed. Her shabby clothes had been replaced with sexy swimwear or tiny shorts and tops. Their afternoons supposedly studying on the beach right outside his back door had led to Adrienna's flippant decision to get an overall tan. She'd planned it out and it went exactly as she expected. Seeing her beautiful nude body proved too much of a temptation to his already threadbare vow not to cheat on Raven. They made love that first time right out on the sand. Fate intervened enough to make sure the neighbors weren't home to catch them that time. Before long, Adrienna's constant, uninhibited seductions filled most of the hours of his days. There was nothing she wouldn't—and didn't—do with, for and to him. No, he hadn't thought of Raven at all during those times, but in the back of his mind he had no real intention of taking the relationship with Adrienna beyond some of the most intense encounters he'd ever experienced up to that point. He'd miss it, but he loved Raven. Near the end of the summer, he came out of the hedonist fog Adrienna put him in when he realized Raven hadn't called him in over a week. His phone calls to her went unanswered and unreturned. His need for her came back in spades. 101


Though he'd been distracted a couple more times by Adrienna—times he accepted later as desperately and carefully planned—he eventually packed up and flew out to Hawaii to confront his negligent girlfriend. Raven had fallen for Casey Harris, married him and, despite her tears and pleas for him to understand, nothing Reb said or did shook her resolve to stay with her husband. Reb had returned to Chicago, barely noticing Adrienna's absence in his grief and anger. Pure chance made him bump into her mother. She told him Adrienna went to New York to finish her journalism degree. Reb wondered a time or two about their last days together—how she told him she'd gone on the pill and they didn't need condoms anymore—but, for all intents and purposes, he forgot her until she called about a year later. He could tell she was drunk out of her mind. What she told him came through loud and clear though. She left Chicago pregnant—deliberately, he realized then. She'd given birth to his son, Diego, and he was two months old. After spending the next year trying to be happy for Raven, since she and her husband returned to Chicago, he'd put it behind well enough. He and Raven made preliminary plans to launch a radio program together. Confronting his own mistakes with Adrienna hadn't come right away, even with the news of their child, though he immediately caught a flight to New York and went to her. She'd been silent, uncertain, but she listened to him when they both got drunk and he started talking about his devastation over losing Raven. He and Adrienna slept together that night, but the whole thing didn't hit him until 102


the following morning. At that time, she told him she never wanted to see him again. When he asked about their son, she screamed that she'd lied. Her son wasn't his. Up to that point, she'd insisted Diego was staying with friends of hers for a few days. She'd given him a picture of Diego the night before. Reb had been in his rental car for about a half hour after leaving Adrienna in a state of shock when the face in the photograph told him the truth. It was his own face. Diego was his child, and she'd lied about that because he'd hurt her by talking about Raven. Unwilling to let go of his son, he went back up to Adrienna's apartment and knocked for a long time before he tested the lock and found it open. She was unconscious on the floor with a huge, empty pill bottle next to her. Combined with all the alcohol only hours before, if she survived it could only be considered a miracle. In the hours that followed, sitting beside her at the hospital, Reb faced for the first time how horribly he'd treated her. His guilt increased when she woke and admitted her love for him—a love that'd been growing for almost as long as they knew each other. But he'd loved only Raven. Even when he'd been screwing Adrienna day and night, his heart belonged to Raven. The words Adrienna threw at him that day had been filled with pure acid. She told him she hated him more than she hated anyone. She'd gotten rid of their son days after she gave birth to him—to friends who wanted a child. She hadn't seen those friends since, unable to bear the sight of what had 103


resulted from an association in which she'd never meant anything all to him. His guilt started then and metastasized through the years—through her anger and depression she based her selfdestructive life decisions on. Whenever she thought his guilt might be waning, she came back and made sure he bled for his sins against her. He'd destroyed her life, and she never failed to make sure he knew it. Yet now she was singing a different tune: "You've seen the changes in me, Reb. I didn't come here to make you suffer. I don't ever wanna punish you again. I was terrified you were dead. I couldn't stand the thought. It put everything in perspective for me." After everything Adrienna had done to kill him, how could he believe her pleading of last night? The one thing she'd never been able to do was just let go of it. No, even his death wouldn't make her happy, because when he'd gone she'd be unable to continue her torture. "I don't ever wanna punish you again." He'd be a fool to trust what he wanted to believe. To believe more than anything of her. He glanced at her anything-but-peaceful face. He could see the restlessness in her expression. She dreamed, but it wasn't a good one. Her eyes moved rapidly beneath her lids, her breathing coming in ragged shudders. "We've both had to face down demons," he said under his breath. "How long do we have to be enemies? How long do we have to pay for our mistakes?" He wanted to comfort her. Keeping himself from reaching for her felt like another form of torment. But the one thing he 104


couldn't do was trust her. Especially with his heart.

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Chapter 18 Jolted out of a dream, Natalie forced herself to open her eyes to escape further from its memory. Reb sat beside the bed in a chair he'd dragged over from the fireplace. His position told her he'd been watching her sleep for quite a while. The realization made her feel as vulnerable as the dream had. The residue remained like a bitter taste on her tongue. Running. Being chased. The burning sensation in her lungs, imagining him a step behind, reaching for her. His hoarse laughter in her ear. "It'll only hurt worse when I catch you. Don't run, little girl." "You were having a nightmare." Natalie swallowed her vulnerability, her mind not quite ready to see his question as an opportunity to get him to trust her. "Did I say anything?" she asked warily. He shook his head, his eyes a combination of reluctant sympathy and uncertainty. "You were whimpering though. Shuddering." All she wanted to do was push away the raw fear, even as her training told her if she opened up to Reb now, he'd trust her more. She shook off the nightmare. "Just a bad dream," she murmured, sitting up. "I don't remember. How do you feel?" "You do remember. Tell me." The soft tone in his voice confirmed his openness toward her. 106


"I've never told anyone," she admitted. "It hurts too much to even think about it. I don't wanna remember it. I just wanna bury it in my mind. Except I can't. Sometimes it overwhelms me." Surprising her, Reb got up and sat on the bed next to her. "Is it something that happened when you were little?" She nodded, taking a deep, shaky breath. "I was five. I was at a friend's house ... and my mom forgot to pick me up. She didn't answer when I called. I was so embarrassed, I couldn't ask my friend's parents for a ride. I just said Mom was on her way, and I was supposed to meet her in front of the building. I started walking. Took a wrong turn. It was such a dark night, and a bad neighborhood—most of the street lamps were busted. I realized after a while that I was being followed. I caught a glimpse of him ... his evil eyes. When I ran, he ran. He shouted ... he shouted not to run. He'd make it hurt worse if I did." Reb put a hand on her shoulder, and she lifted her head to see growing sympathy in his face. "I was so scared. I must've blacked out. I woke up in the garbage. I'll probably never forget the stink of it. My body hurt everywhere. I was bleeding..." When he swore under his breath, she came back to herself from the memory she hated talking, thinking and dreaming about. "So ... that's it," she said, wishing it was the nothing she tried to make it sound. "I'm sorry, honey." 107


She nodded, taking another deep breath. "How do you feel?" He picked up on her signal not to ask any more questions about what she still had bad dreams about, and said on a grin, "I feel like I want a shower. Bad." "Are you sure you're up for it, Tiger? I'm not sure if I could pick up a wet, soapy, hundred and seventy pound guy." Reb chuckled in a way that made all the short hairs on her body stand at rapt attention. "Don't think I got much choice if I wanna tolerate myself today. I must be killing you with my stench." Instead of answering, she got to her feet. "Let me get you a glass of juice first. Maybe that'll help keep you on your feet for ten minutes—long enough for you to clean up in the shower." He took the glass from her when she brought it and heeded her advice to drink it slowly, to make sure it stayed down. Once he was done, he set the glass on the nightstand. "I'll help you," she insisted, but he shook his head at her. "I'm all right. I can do it without help." "Okay. But I am gonna stand by while you're in the shower. I don't know if you've noticed it, but that tub is cast iron. You crack your head on that, and you'll forget your own name. Guaranteed." He nodded willingly enough. "I'll be in as soon as I hear the shower curtain close." She watched him enter the bathroom and close the door most of the way behind him. 108


He did seem better, she acknowledged. Still pale. She suspected he'd tire easily for the next day or two. But he did seem stronger at least. After she washed up his juice glass, she heard the shower curtain slide across and went in to him. The curtain was a thin piece of plastic in a blurry transparent texture. She could see through it. Despite the blurriness intended to obscure him behind it, she felt like her body temperature leapt a good ten degrees long before the steam came to help camouflage him. His illness had melted quite a few pounds off him—ones he really couldn't afford to lose—but he was still an attractive man. A hunk of one, more like. She couldn't get herself to look away as he leaned his arms against the wall in front of him. His head dropped under the shower spray, and the sound of his voice jolted her out of her sensual revelry. "You all right?" she called in a quavery tone she hoped wouldn't make him wonder why she sounded like that. "No." No? She hadn't expected his answer. She rushed to the tub. "What's the matter?" "Head ... full of air. Legs ... weak." He sounded every bit as weak as he described himself as feeling. "Thought you should be ... on standby," he murmured. To hell with standby. Inside her head, she called him any number of names on the order of stubborn mule while she 109


shed her shorts and tank. In just bra and panties, she yanked back the curtain and stepped into the tub behind him. The lethargic way he turned to look back at her told her he'd expected her to do exactly what she had. "Either you let me help you get out now, or you let me give you a quick wash," she insisted in a no-nonsense voice. He took her at face value, nodding only, and letting her make up her own mind which course of action to take. "Good. Now, do you think you can stand for about two or three minutes?" "Yeah." "Then brace yourself against the wall and don't let go until I tell you to." He inclined his head a fraction, enough to get Natalie into gear. First, she scooted around him and adjusted the spray so he wouldn't drown with his head under it. Then she put shampoo in his wet hair and diverted the shower head again until the soap rinsed out. Picking up the bar of soap, she started to suds him up from head to toe, being both thorough and quick. She wasn't surprised to find him painfully aroused by the time she carefully eased around to his front once more. Reb's waning gaze met hers. "There goes all the blood in my body again," he muttered. She couldn't stifle the giggle that burst out of her, even as she acknowledged that her own blood had pooled in her most secret places, too. She could feel her breasts swelling and straining her bra to maximum capacity. "You're not up for this, Tiger," she whispered. 110


His gaze seemed locked on her breasts now. "Dying man's ... last wish," he offered without energy. "Don't say that." Her scolding had no affect on the heat in his eyes. At that moment, she couldn't have refused him anything, even knowing he'd made no request of her. Yet when she led his hand to her breast, he groaned both in agony and appreciation. "Let me finish this," she said while he made her knees turn to jelly with his half-gone fondling through her functional bra. Forcing herself to ignore the sensations rocketing straight to her sex, she soaped her hands, put down the bar, and finished washing him. He put his face in the hollow between her breasts and only her own strength held them up as she finished the not-soplatonic job of soaping and rinsing his pelvis, his jutting erection and the heavy sac beneath it. When she reached behind her to turn the water off, his grieved groan brought an instinctive murmur of instinctive comfort from her. Shoving the shower curtain aside, she grabbed the towel hanging nearby. With her back against the wall, she eased him a step back to keep him standing with her. He braced himself once more on the wall with both hands, but his mouth found her nipple through cotton. Natalie forgot how to breathe, forgot drying him with the towel. She needed him. I love him, idiot that I am, her mind moaned in chorus, but she didn't want to accept it. Accept that she'd failed 111


completely in her mission. Done the unthinkable. Fallen for her subject. She sobbed uncontrollably while Reb worked his lips, tongue and teeth from one nipple across to the next. "Reb, oh Reb, we can't stay here..." She'd closed her eyes, completely defenseless to him. His fingers slipping beneath the band of her wet-in-more-waysthan-one underwear shocked her. He barely stroked her before she came in his hand with a shudder and breathless cry. She felt his legs give out at that exact moment and grabbed for him. Her strength seemed to come back with her fulfillment. Even stronger needs replaced them. Somehow, she got him out of the tub and over to the bed. When he half sat up like he was afraid she'd leave him, she eased him back again. He didn't seem to possess the energy to do anything except obey her commands. Kneeling between his thighs, so eager she was beyond trying to talk sense into herself, she curled her fingers around his still hard flesh. Then she put her mouth on his. She knew he hadn't experienced sexual gratification with a woman for a long time. She wanted to make sure he never forgot this time either. Pleasuring him with her hands, mouth and tongue expanded her own too-intense emotions for him. His every groan brought her pure joy. Only when he lost control of himself and she dragged herself up beside him to hold him, did she realize what she'd done by allowing this intimacy to 112


take place. She'd been taking care of him again, putting him before her mission. Afraid to look at him, she went back in the bathroom, soaked a washcloth in warm water and came back to clean him up. He'd put his arms over his face, and she understood his recriminations about what they'd done. "I need ... I'll shower. If you can wait a few minutes, I'll change the sheets when I come back out." He nodded. She didn't doubt he needed the separation as much as she did. After she gathered clothes, she closed herself into the bathroom, calling herself a fool in pure disgust.

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Chapter 19 Not only had he dressed by the time she came out, but he'd also made the bed and washed the sheets. He'd just finished wringing them out when she emerged. She was determined to act like nothing they'd done was a big deal. After all, he and Adrienna were supposed to have been lovers in the past. She also resisted the urge to say anything about the work he'd done. He avoided her gaze, too, on his way out to hang the sheet on the porch clothesline she'd rigged up. "I'll make us something to eat," she called, pleased that her voice sounded normal. She went to the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs. Her awareness of him felt nearly unbearable when he came back into the cabin. She felt flush ... and empty. Stupid as she had to be for it—she'd all but compromised the mission, dammit!—she wanted to finish what they started in the shower. "Where'd you get all this stuff?" Reb asked, letting the water out of the sink. "I know I haven't had eggs in years." He felt uncertainty and wariness, just like she did, she knew, but his effort to get past it brought tears to her eyes. "I asked Jolie to bring up two weeks' worth of supplies. She brought a ton of everything, knowing you probably haven't been eating what you should." "She knows better than to come out here." "She didn't come all the way out. She left it by the fence yesterday. I went to get it while you were sleeping." 114


Carrying the immense load hadn't been easy, but Jolie had thought ahead, packing everything in an oversized, ice-laden suitcase on wheels. Natalie had carried it for a long few minutes, then dragged it part of the way and carried it the rest, trying not to leave a trail. After getting Scout food and water, Reb poured himself another glass of juice. He sat at the kitchen table to watch her prepare a couple omelets stuffed with onions, a tiny sprinkle of cheese and frozen broccoli florets. "You learned to cook," he said. She shrugged without looking back at him. "Eventually you get tired of ordering in or going out." His harping on the changes in her had become worrisome. She needed to keep her cover intact at least until she knew where he'd hid the evidence. What if he became convinced she wasn't Adrienna Kelly? "It wasn't hard to learn," she added casually, sliding his finished omelet on a plate and setting it before him. "I took some classes." She handed him a fork, reminding him to eat slowly to make sure his stomach felt up to accepting the nourishment. "This is incredible. I forgot what homemade food tastes like. Thought everything tasted like can after all this time." She laughed, getting her own omelet sizzling in the only skillet in the place. While she waited for it to cook, she turned back to Reb long enough to see him savoring the meal in slow motion. When she sat with him with her omelet, coffee and juice, he said, "I've been out of commission for a while, so I haven't 115


seen any articles from you. You still writing for that political magazine in New York?" She shook her head, swallowing a healthy bite. "I took a sabbatical in 2001 after the bombing there." The cover story she'd been living and breathing for weeks had been so integral to her preparation for the mission, she said it with fluid ease. "I got out, but it ... left some scars. It made me look at my life differently." "Hard to believe you'd ever quit investigative journalism, even after that terrorist attack. I thought you'd be in the thick of all that." Little did he know how much in the thick of it Adrienna Kelly had been during the last few minutes of her life. Going after the story of a lifetime, she probably hadn't thought of her own life. Her body had never been recovered from the rubble. "The bombings made me wonder what else there was." "What do you mean?" He set down his fork on his halfcleaned plate. "My whole life was my work. You know that." "It made you happy." The loud and clear implication came through in his tone. Work had been the only thing that made Adrienna happy. "That's exactly the point. I didn't have anything else. I only had my work ... and obsessions that were eating me alive." The one thing that'd been certain to Natalie from the first time she read Reb's and Adrienna's files was that Adrienna had been obsessed with Reb. Obsessed with wanting him to love her, wanting to punish and torture him for not loving 116


her. Obsessed with punishing and tormenting herself with her self-destructive actions. Her ex-husbands had revealed— before the interviews had been wiped from their minds—that they left their marriage to Adrienna hating her with a passion. They all believe what Natalie concluded after viewing the interviews—that Adrienna's obsession with Reb, her equally combative love and hate for him, would eventually destroy her. She was beyond redemption on that point. "I've done a lot of things differently since I left my work," Natalie concluded. Reb shook his head, by his expression nowhere near convinced by her confession. "Never thought I'd see the day. You ever plan to go back?" "I don't know." She speared the last bite on her fork. "I've come to like the simple life. Exploring what life had to offer me instead of concentrating on what everyone else had so I didn't notice how empty my own life was." His face had taken on a thoughtful slant she never anticipated. To avoid more questions, she changed the subject. "You seem like you're coming out of the withdrawal a little more, but you shouldn't push yourself. Take it easy today. Sleep as much as you need to. That'll heal you like nothing else can." She got up and started clearing the table. "I'll do the dishes." "You most certainly will not," she objected. "Okay. So I'll help." Natalie shook her head at him scoldingly. "You hear a word I just said, Tiger?" 117


But he was already up, clearing the table. "If I feel faint, I'll sit down. That work for you?" he bargained. She took a second to notice he did seem stronger. Not so pale. Even his eyes seemed clearer. She nodded, and they worked together comfortably— Natalie suspected only because they didn't talk. Her awareness of him seemed to increase in the silence. She watched his hands scrub the dishes, remembered how his fingers felt as he stroked her damp, contracting flesh. The way he played her nipples so expertly with his mouth. Painfully aroused again, she remembered only too well his groans of pleasure, how easily she'd been able to bring him to satisfaction. She wanted to kiss him endlessly, taste him again. Man-oh-man, she wanted him to fill her properly. Until she experienced that, she felt she'd never be fully alive in that way again. His gaze became furtive once more upon handing her the last dish. She couldn't help wondering if he remembered what they'd shared, too ... if he wanted her the way she wanted him. He turned away to swipe down the table. "What do you pack for this occasion?" he asked. She didn't know what he meant until he pointed to her backpack near the front door. He'd been so sick, she never considered him taking notice of it. It wouldn't do at all if he did more than notice it. If he tried to look into it. 118


Slightly tense, she forced her voice not to show it. "Not much. I do wish now I'd brought a pack of cards. Or a TV." He laughed, the stress-breaker she needed. But when he came back to the sink, a quizzical expression filled his eyes. "You're the same height as me." Her defenses came up like lightning, even while she pretended not to know what he meant. "Neither of us is wearing shoes, and you're the same height as me. You were always at least a half inch shorter at least, barefoot." She stepped away from him to retrieve the towel. Her training had prepared her for the inevitability that Reb would notice changes she couldn't easily explain away. Her first line of defense was not to panic. If she made a big deal about this, so would he. And then he'd get really suspicious. "You'll also notice I've lost weight and I'm in better shape than I ever was." "Yeah," he conceded, still not convinced. "Well, maybe I seemed shorter because I was chubbier." She hung up the towel and called to Scout.

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Chapter 20 Now you've done it. Not only have you committed the unthinkable by becoming sexually attracted to the biggest mistake of your life again, now you're doing the unbelievable, too. You're falling for Adrienna. Adrienna, the woman Reb had wanted more than anything to love but never could. Unable able to sleep despite his fatigue after their brunch, he lay in bed and brought to mind the incredible memories of that morning. If he'd had one iota of energy, he would've reached for her when she came up to him after her ... selfless act of heroism—what else can explain why a woman would wanna do that to a man half dead? While Reb knew she'd climaxed in the shower, she hadn't given herself a second to savor it before she hustled him out of there and finished what she started with her inadvertently sexy soap-down. She'd washed every nook and cranny of his body. Hell, the biggest part of his weakness, even before she got in the tub with him half-dressed, was his arousal at knowing she stood just outside the curtain, waiting to catch him if he fell. And he had. Big time. Every time he closed his eyes, he recalled the husky way she said, "Let me finish this" even while inviting him to take out his dying wish to fondle her incredible breasts again. How the hell could he ever sleep? He'd never do that again without her. No wonder he couldn't sleep now. 120


Reb realized he'd put himself smack dab in the middle of a ridiculous situation, and chuckled—then his ears caught the sound of Scout barking happily outside in the clearing and Adrienna's sweet laughter following it. Never before had he associated Adrienna with fun-loving or carefree behavior. Sitting up slowly, he caught a tormenting glimpse of her from the window before she flitted away. He wanted to see her. Watch her. He'd even wanted to hear her nightmare earlier. The fact that she told him something so personal and dark, something he well believed she'd never told another living soul, still shocked him. He could easily buy her worthless mother forgetting her. Not even worrying what might have happened to her little girl when she finally stumbled into their apartment, much too late for someone her age to be out alone, bleeding and sobbing. That Adrienna told him, shared it with him of all people, touched him in a place that felt raw despite years of avoidance. Stupid as it was, he needed Adrienna's trust. So damn much. He needed ... hell, he needed her forgiveness. Knowing he'd never get it hadn't stopped him from wishing for it above all else. Jeans on, he followed the joyful noise to the screen door. He frowned when he noticed her backpack was no longer propped next to it. Seeing it gone made him glance around the cabin. It was nowhere in sight. When did she take it away and where'd she put it? What difference did it make? But it bothered him anyway, although he wasn't sure why. 121


For the moment, he pushed the screen door open and went out to the porch to see Adrienna throw a stick to Scout. She'd pulled her thick hair up in a loose ponytail. Something about the careless appearance of it intrigued him more than it should have. Adrienna spent hours fixing her hair every day. This lack of concern was... Sexy. Just like those shorts and tops she wears now. The lack of make-up since she showed up. The fact that she's dropped the obsessiveness with her looks ... Yeah, I can buy this woman's been reborn. What else can possibly make sense in light of how much she's changed? Noiselessly, Reb sat in one of the chairs on the porch, putting his forearms over the railing to watch her and his dog. Scout came running up to her with the stick, and she got right down on her knees to praise him. She even let him lick her face, laughing the whole time. Reb shook his head. Dear God, has she changed. He'd never believed it was possible for people to change. Eventually, temporary alterations to a personality reverted, all the old habits becoming standard once more. Adrienna ... he kept expecting some bit of her old self to show through, proving the bitter woman he knew was merely in hiding. But she'd never been this happy before. He couldn't reason that truth away, even with past experience of her fickleness taken into consideration. She'd never been happy, period. Not even the summer he cheated on Raven with blind abandon with her. Adrienna had 122


been far from happy then. She'd been doing her damndest to get him to forget Raven and fall for her instead, all the while knowing he wouldn't and preparing herself for the worst. She'd been twisted with hate he glimpsed each time he talked to Raven or even mentioned her name. Long before he dropped Adrienna and ran to be with the person he'd assumed would be the love of his life always, the hate had been growing like a disease inside her. It's like she's a completely different person. Outside, she's Adrienna. Inside ... inside she's a new woman. One I could fall for too damn easy. The natural beauty he saw in her for the first time was irresistible to him. The thought of his wife brought of a flash of pain, but he let himself admit to his conscious mind what'd been niggling at him since Adrienna appeared. This new version of the old woman reminded him of the very things he loved most about Laura. Laura had truly been the love of his life. She took care of him, healed him and didn't keep score of his considerable sins against her. She gave him every part of herself, and it'd all been good. He saw that and more in the woman before him now. Adrienna noticed him finally. The way she dropped everything and came to him did a number on his already ragged emotions. "How do you feel?" she asked, panting only slightly. "Did you get any sleep?" He shook his head. "What's wrong?" she asked, instantly concerned. 123


Honesty had always been the most dangerous part of being with her. He decided to risk it anyway. "Gotten used to having someone next to me in bed." No way would she have accepted his response in the past. Her face filled with an appealing blush of surprise. Instead of the expected anger or disgust, he was half convinced his truth pleased her. "You really are getting better, aren't you, Tiger?" she murmured, a trace of a smile lifting her gorgeous mouth. He realized happiness made her look at least ten years younger than the last time he saw her. A decade ago. Could happiness erase age? he wondered, slightly troubled. Maybe it could. After all, grief had aged him far beyond his thirtyeight years. He couldn't help contemplating if he looked old to her. There wasn't one damn reason in the world for him to care if he resembled death warmed over to her. No reason at all for him to want her to find him attractive, the way he couldn't stop finding her. They didn't need any more complications. So why did this thing building between them not feel like a complication? Why did it feel like the most natural thing in the world?

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Chapter 21 Natalie wondered for all of five minutes that evening what people did before television and books. With nothing better to do, she decided she needed a workout anyway. The rain had started just after dinner, so there was no possibility of going outside. Reb had agreed to lie down and rest, but he'd been watching her work out in the humidity of the cabin instead. Initially, she warmed up with her nunchakus, stretching her body in a multitude of directions. She followed with situps, push-ups and crunches. Despite the fatigue in Reb's face, his color brought more optimism to her that he'd be well soon. And, because she couldn't allow anything like what'd happened between them that morning to happen again, she'd decided she needed to use the time they had here to train him in self-defense techniques. They needed the distraction anyway. When he sat up, pulled open the nightstand drawer and took out some foreign cigarettes, she walked over to him. She plucked the stick out of his mouth before he could light up, shaking her head at him. "You need to sleep, Tiger, and I know just how to wipe you out." When she tugged him out of bed, he looked uncertain. He came with her to the fireplace and watched her stretch. "You want me to do that?" "You need to loosen your muscles before you start working them." "I'm sick. This can't be good for me," he grumbled, but he bent forward at the waist and did what she did. 125


"It is good for you. Lot better than smoking. I won't work you too hard." Before they'd even finished stretching, he huffed and puffed. "You hated exercise," he complained. "Especially this kind. How the hell can you do that?" She'd started with basic leg stretches, then widened her stretch while lowering herself to the floor. Reb had barely gone down an inch before he grunted in pain. She completed the stretch fully on her own with the splits. She leaned forward, supporting her weight on her arms, and lifted her legs over her head, straight as an arrow. He muttered a curse while she held herself in the pose with little effort. "You know I always preferred a good whiskey and a cigar." "So did I. Now I'm healthy." He shook his head again, stumbling over to a chair and dropping heavily onto it. "You look younger, Ad. Years younger. You look younger than you did when you were twenty-five." She didn't allow his jab to affect her. "There's no mystery about that. Living well has its benefits. I'm proof of that." She'd lowered her legs until her entire body bent backwards and her feet and hands were all on the floor, her back arched. Kicking off lightly, she did flips around the room, landing in front of him and urging him back to his feet. "I wanna teach you a couple moves. Some self-defense techniques that might come in handy." "You know self-defense?" he hooted in pure doubt. 126


"Investigative journalism is a dangerous career. Don't tell me you don't know that best, Tiger. You're in a precarious position here. Would you be prepared if anyone came for you? No. Your body is out of shape from the addiction—maybe not noticeably yet—but you need to get your muscles strong again. We can make you strong with a short workout every day. It'll be slow, and you'll have plenty of time to rest. In a couple days, we'll increase the time and intensity to forty-five minutes, more often in the days following that. I'll have you back in shape in no time. You'll see." She didn't notice the stare of disbelief he'd leveled on her until he muttered, "Who the hell are you?" She'd never get him ready to face the situation he'd put himself into if he didn't stop getting fixated on all the changes in her. Taking four steps forward, she jabbed a finger toward his face. "I'm someone who cares about you, whatever happened between us in the past. Forget all that crap. Now is all that matters." Her own training had taught her that. She'd teach Reb the same. Surprising her, he captured her pointing finger, enclosing her hand in his, and eased her the last two steps to him. In shock, she swallowed air like a fish out of water. Her brain told her to move, get away, but her own desire for him immobilized her. All day, he'd watched her. Not like he was trying to take her apart and put her back together in the order that would make her the Adrienna Kelly he'd known. No, he'd seen her in 127


a whole different light these past few days. And he wanted her, she realized, regardless of the past that kept intruding on his thoughts. She knew he'd try to kiss her the way they hadn't dared that morning. She knew just as surely that she had to stop him. He refused to listen to the good sense his own mind had to be trying to talk into him—there was no way he could easily shuck his uncertainties in favor of sexual gratification. Natalie understood how much life had changed him from that twenty-two-year-old who selfishly took what was offered without seeing the strings attached. On one hand, she was thrilled that his desire for her was strong enough for him to do what his head must have been lecturing him against, fistin-glove. He drew her right into him and didn't hesitate to take her mouth with his. Natalie let go of the defenses she'd futilely tried to erect against this. She sagged against him. With both arms around her, lifting her so her legs went around him, he stood and backed her to the bed. In a heartbeat, his body boldly covered her own. Lost, she opened her thighs to embrace him, opened her mouth in a deep kiss, opened her heart as wide as she could to the most dangerous love possible for an operative, especially one as green as she was. Nothing mattered but his lips against hers, his tongue effortlessly drawing whimpers of need from her. His hips worked against the cleft between her legs, rocking his erection against the rapidly spiraling coil of tension inside her. 128


They were both panting when her hands delved inside the back of his unfastened jeans, guiding him now, targeting the center of her pleasure. His free hand plucked her nipple sweetly enough to put tears in her eyes. "Reb," she moaned. "This is so dangerous. What are we doing? I'm right there." "I want you there, honey." His hoarse tone took her the rest of the way, and she sobbed against his mouth as she rode the wave of excruciating wonder. "We're not thinking." "I know." He dragged his lips from hers, and she grabbed onto his shoulders instinctively. They couldn't, but she'd lose her mind if he let her go right now. He aligned his cheek with hers, allowing his glorious weight to settle on her fully. His harsh breathing filled her ear. "Why did you do it?" he muttered. "This morning?" "I wanted to," she said without thinking. "Why?" When he lifted his head, she could see his expression. He fully expected her to turn into the wicked witch of the west like she used to. The silent accusation tore her to shreds. She couldn't bear the pain he'd endured for so many years. Tears flooded her eyes, and his expression gentled in an instant. He kissed her so tender, she expected her heart to burst wide open in her chest. "I'm afraid, Reb," she cried, forcing herself to ease away to her side out of self-preservation. "Of me?" He turned with her, stroking her cheek. "Of me? Of forgiving me?" 129


Of falling in love with you. Of admitting to myself that it's already too late. I'm compromised. "Of ... having it all go wrong." Because she knew he'd need the word, she added, "Again." He closed his eyes and slid off her to lie at her side. If she tried to heal him now, she'd cross the point of no return—no going back, no going forward either. So she took her cue, sat up and said, "I need a shower. I'm sweating like a pig." She didn't give in to the ragged sobs holding inside her chest until the sound of the shower spray could cover them.

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Chapter 22 As soon as she felt sure Reb slept deeply, Natalie tossed Scout a treat to keep him occupied for awhile. Then she left the cabin. She grabbed her backpack from where she'd hid it in the shed after Reb showed too much interest in it. Before heading to her check-in rendezvous with her team leader in an hour, she searched the surrounding woods, then headed to the north road. She'd have to wait to search the south quadrant of the woods later so she wouldn't be late. Being away from the cabin, from the tension between her and Reb that only grew more claustrophobic, was a nightmare. The only way to avoid intimacy was to avoid each other. There wasn't room to do that well. Her misery grew because of it, too. She felt too damn much for this guy who shouldn't have meant anything to her beyond the means to her desired end. She wondered the entire walk what she'd tell her leader. The truth? Or just the surface stuff that Dez might see right through? **** He leaned against a car hidden in a thick copse of trees just off the road. At six foot three, dressed in tight black pants and a black shirt that showed his every muscle to perfection, Dez had more than a few female admirers everywhere he went. Hard as Natalie tried for her own sanity as she approached her team leader, she couldn't recall the lust-crush she'd had 131


on him in the years they'd trained together. Dez was every bit the rebel as Reb, with his long, dark hair and bedroom eyes. He was certainly closer to her age. So why did he remind her how much she wanted to be in Rebel Porter's arms? Man-oh-man, I've never felt more pathetic in my life. "What's the word, Nat?" Dez asked. She shook her head, hoping her expression didn't reveal her inner torment. "I've searched the cabin top to bottom, the shed, the area surrounding the cabin clearing, and almost all of the woods. Nothing so far." "What about the garbage pile?" Dez suggested. In her first report she'd told him about the unburned piles in a ditch a good forty feet from the cabin. Though it looked like Reb had started out burying the garbage, his illness had prevented him from continuing to do so. Dez also knew about her mind seizures, brought on by the smell of trash, from her previous reports. He didn't lightly suggest that she hop into the pile, but she knew she'd have to do it sooner or later if the evidence didn't turn up elsewhere. Unfortunately, Reb's own words about where he'd hidden it—in a place no one would think to look—fit a garbage pile exactly. "I'll check it tomorrow. The rain's still too fresh." Dez shook his head. "You need to check it today, Nat. You think this is a picnic or something?" His tone was soft but the implication was clear. She knew he could tell her focus had slipped since their last rendezvous. "He's suspicious," she defended. "I just wanna make sure my cover is secure before I..." 132


Dez drew his shades off, and she saw the scolding in his eyes. "Nat, we don't have the luxury of the kind of time you think we have. Jameson is this close to figuring out Porter's location. We have to get to the evidence first. Now, we've searched every inch of his relatives' land—the house, all the outlying buildings. Either Porter hid it in the cabin, the garbage, the woods, or he dropped it somewhere we're not gonna find it unless he tells us willingly or unwillingly. Your cover isn't as important as getting the evidence. You either find it, or you get him to tell you where it is, no matter what you gotta do to get him to give it up. We don't have time for bullshit. This entire mission is riding on your success. You screw up, and my head goes in the same noose yours is in." She swallowed at the reprimand, knowing it was fully justified. The ability to work as a team was one of the reasons for the Network's near-perfect rate of success. "I'll do it today," she assured him. He nodded, but she suspected even then he wasn't satisfied. At the moment, though, she had other matters to deal with. She drew out the vial of liquid Reb had been about to inject. "Can you get this tested? I believe Jameson conditioned Reb before he went into hiding. Reb's been injecting himself with this stuff once every couple weeks. His sickness is from withdrawal between doses." Dez took it and glanced at the clear liquid before nodding. He tucked the vial into his pocket, then stared at her. "Go through the trash. If you don't find anything, get him to tell you where it is any way you can." 133


His orders brought a flush to her face. She nodded, looking away quickly as she said, "I need to check the south quadrant of the woods first. Then I'll head back to the cabin." She knew Dez was suggesting she seduce Reb if she had to, but she couldn't decide whether or not that would make him trust her enough to give up his evidence. She was more inclined to believe he'd be even more suspicious of her if she did. Besides, she didn't like the idea of using him that way. She couldn't callously use the man she ... cared about ... in order to get what she wanted out of him. "Does Porter doubt your cover?" Dez asked, making her think perhaps her expression might have revealed far more than she wanted it to. "Yes and no. He spends a lot of time noticing the changes in me, but he hasn't seriously considered that I might not be Adrienna Kelly. Not yet anyway. Adrienna and Reb have a lot of bad blood between them. He has absolutely no reason to trust her after the horrors she put him through in the past." "Is he attracted to you?" Much as she wanted to ignore or deflect her leader's question, she had to answer this one truthfully. "Yes." "Good. It may give you an edge just when you need it. The rain'll probably slow Jameson down if he's monitoring this place by satellite. Check in with me in twenty-four hours." She knew her team leader would only contact her if there was a problem. "Hopefully I'll have something by then." "Do your thing, Nat. Don't fail me. My ass is on the line. I think you can do this—you just stay focused." **** 134


Feeling frustrated, she walked through the mud-slippery woods to the south quadrant. She found the graveyard they'd picked up by studying satellite imagery. As they'd expected, most of the gravestones had crumbled over time, resembling little more than rubble now. The plentiful rain in the night had washed away all telltale traces of recent activity in the area. She knelt by each grave anyway, searching the ground for any sign it'd been dug up. By the time she reached the last grave, the rain had started again. There was nothing here. Even working on the assumption that Reb had put the evidence in a metal box to keep it dry and safe under ground, her metal detector didn't pick up any sign of it. It would be far more likely that Reb would hide the material in a polycarbonate or plastic box of the type used to protect firearms, photographic and other technical equipment. The box would be immensely strong, light, and sealed against liquid and gas. The chances of finding it were slim to none without digging up every inch of ground in the clearing. That left the trash pile or finagling the location of it out of Reb— neither of which she looked forward to. Standing, she shook her head. It'd been close to two hours. She had to get back to Reb before he woke and got suspicious. She made it back to the cabin in record time, surprised when she found him still sleeping soundly. Like it or not, she had to go through that damn garbage. At least the rain would wash her while she worked. 135


After she hid her backpack under a loose floor board she'd discovered in the cabin broom closet, she went back outside. Standing in front of the stinking pile, she muttered the code that'd kept her in line since she joined the Network: "Focus on the mission."

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Chapter 23 The cabin was utterly silent save for the sound of rain beating on the roof and outer walls. Reb's head hurt from too much sleep. His hand instinctively reached across the bed. He was alone. Eyes open, grimacing, he turned his head toward the kitchen, half sitting up. "Ad?" he called. When no response came, he pushed himself out of bed and to the doorway of the bathroom, knowing by the almost total lack of sound that she wasn't there. It bothered him almost as much as it'd bothered him that she hadn't wanted to get into bed with him last night after that mind-blowing kiss. Much as he'd like to flat-out vow not to get involved with her in any way, he couldn't get himself to tell her to leave and never come back, either. The way he felt about her ... hell, it was different than ever before. She was so different. So different that he found himself shedding a piece of his wariness each time he got near her. He'd tossed and turned for hours last night after going to bed alone, while she sat on the porch watching the rain. He wanted her in bed with him, even if she couldn't get close enough to satisfy him. She finally had come to him, and he realized his restlessness made her put her own wariness aside to be there where he needed her. She'd crawled into his arms and murmured, "Go to sleep. I'm here." And he had slept, aroused and all. Based on the fading light, he figured it to be midafternoon. The front door was open, and Scout sat before the 137


screen door whining when Reb approached him. Pushed over a nail by the door jamb was a scrap of paper. Went out for a walk. Won't be long. Don't go anywhere— take it easy today. We'll start your training tonight. A. He couldn't help noticing that the handwriting was Adrienna's, though he wasn't sure what made him consider it might not be. "Where is she, boy?" Reb asked his dog. Scout whimpered again. Reb could see through the screen that it'd rained most of the afternoon. What would possess her to take a walk in the rain? The clearing was nothing but mud. He pushed open the screen door and stepped out onto the porch. Never mind the rain. Why the hell would she go for a leisurely walk, considering the danger? He wished she'd let him know when she left for this walk. He'd slept so hard today, he hadn't even heard her leave. Reb's jaw clenched as he scanned the woods surrounding the clearing. Where is she? Is she all right? A wave of panic filled his chest. She had to have known his first instinct would be to follow her. He acknowledged the purpose of her note had been to prevent just that. Grimacing, he had a sudden image of her backpack near the door. He knew it wasn't there, but he looked again, and then found himself searching the cabin for it without luck. If she'd gone on a short walk, why would she need it with her? He thought of reasons, but discarded them. If she hadn't 138


taken it with her, where was it? Why would she hide it? And why from him? He couldn't help wondering what was in it. The most he'd seen her take from it were clothes, but she'd clearly only brought enough for three or four days. She'd been doing laundry nearly every day. Not sure why her backpack bothered him so much, he recognized the hollow feeling in his gut and decided he couldn't solve the mystery of her backpack now. He could get himself something to eat while he waited for her to return. He'd give her a half hour, no more, before he had no choice but to go after her. It'd be dark in an hour. His search for food surprised him. The fridge and cupboards were well-stocked for the first time since he'd come here. This last month, he'd been down to a couple cans. Adrienna had laid in enough to last both of them and Scout for at least a month. He couldn't say exactly why it bugged him that she'd laid in so much, but it did. While he wolfed bread with peanut butter and guzzled milk, he wondered if the changes in her made him edgy ... or was it his all-new feelings for her? For years, he wanted nothing more than her forgiveness. He'd almost ruined his marriage with Laura to gain that. But his reasons for wanting Adrienna's forgiveness were borne out of guilt, out of a need not to burn in hell eternally for his sins against so many women. He'd wanted redemption from Adrienna the way a dying man wanted redemption from a holy God. His reasons for wanting forgiveness now had changed. 139


I want her to forgive me because ... I'm falling for her the way I've never been able to in the past. And I want her to love me back. I don't want her to hate me forever. Scout jumped to all four feet at the door, where he'd waited anxiously for Adrienna's return. Reb dropped his halfeaten meal on the table. Through the screen door, he saw Adrienna stumble onto the porch. He understood in an instant that something was horribly wrong. Her appearance was bad enough to make him swear as he ran full across the cabin to her. The fact that she trembled from head to toe before she collapsed halfway up the steps put a violent fear inside him. Had she been shot? He didn't think of his own danger. He pushed open the screen door. That was when his nose detected exactly what'd happened to her. She'd been going through the garbage piles grown too immense for him to keep burying. He couldn't burn it for fear of giving away his position. The stench coming off her was so rotten, he stopped cold, his recent meal lurching around in his stomach. She was covered with wet trash—layers that the rain hadn't been able to keep up washing off her. Her body jerked spastically. Even the overpowering stench couldn't prevent him from going to her now. Holding his breath unsuccessfully, he knelt beside her. Her gaze was far away and tears ran continuously, creating clean rivulets on her otherwise filthy cheeks. She looked like she'd fallen into a trance.

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Gasping at the pungent stink this close up, he lifted her and turned her into his arms. "Adrienna?" he called. "Ad? What the hell did you think you were doing?" She couldn't seem to hear him, she was so far gone in the trance. Nausea overwhelmed him. Bending over the porch railing, he threw up. He couldn't help her until he cleaned her up. Wiping his mouth with the back of his arm, he picked her up and carried her into the bathroom. Kicking the rug away, he laid her on the bare floor, then went to start the shower. When he came back, he found her conscious, sobbing without a sound. She asked him incoherently what was happening. "You were going through my garbage," he said. The ramifications of that began to form obvious explanations in his mind now that she'd proven the danger wasn't physical. "I need to shower." "You need help," he said angrily. "No. I'm all right. I'll be all right. I'm sorry." He nodded. The truth filled him with a formation of solid ice. He left her to shower, noted the sound of the curtain sliding across a minute later, then he undressed and washed himself in the kitchen sink. Feeling numb, he put fresh jeans on. He also got her fresh clothes, dropping them into the bathroom by opening the door a crack. From behind the curtain, he could hear her sobbing, and that didn't make any sense in light of what she'd done. She'd gone through his stinking, rotten, disgusting garbage piece by sickening piece. Why would she do it? Obviously, she was looking for his evidence, and no chore 141


was too horrendous to prevent her from getting what she'd really come here for. No, he'd been completely wrong about her. She hasn't changed one damn bit.

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Chapter 24 "The garbage brought back what happened to you when you were five, didn't it?" Reb said, when Natalie woke to near darkness and lifted her head from the pillow. Only the kitchen light shone in the cabin. He sat in the living room. She could see the red tip of the dark, foreign cigarette he smoked. It lit up his impassive face whenever he took a drag. He'd let her sleep after she got out of a shower that'd washed away the stench of her horrible memories. Now he wanted answers. He deserved answers. Natalie rapidly considered options for talking her way out of trouble. Dammit, she'd had no choice but to go through the trash pile, but she'd known it would trigger a mind seizure. They'd only happened a few times since she was five—when she woke up in a pile of garbage only to remember the evil man chasing her, the cackling voice calling for her not to run from him. She'd known it was coming this time. Her temperature had shot up what felt like fifty degrees, the dizziness started, and she had no choice but to drag herself out of the pile, toward the porch. All while sliding down into the black pit that awaited her. During one of her episodes a few years earlier, she'd written a barely legible note in her five-year-old handwriting with the words, 'Don't run away, little girl. It'll hurt more if you do.' That'd freaked her out more than 143


anything else since the incident that caused her mind seizures. Reb's presence had brought her out of this one much sooner than usual. But she couldn't help regretting that he'd caught her. "Yeah, an overwhelming stench of garbage brings that memory back" she told him simply. She sat up and realized she wore only a tank top and underwear. Her mind had wanted to shut off after her shower. Getting into bed wearing only this had been all she had left to give. "Why did you go out today?" he followed up with the words in a tone that said he wouldn't accept anything but a truthful answer. He probably wouldn't believe it either. "I needed the exercise. Scout didn't want to go with me. It's good that he won't leave your side." "You went through my garbage. You were looking for the evidence I have on the Network and Jameson. Are you working for him?" It was a natural conclusion. But he couldn't allow him to believe it. "No! I told you I wasn't. I wouldn't. He's a criminal. I went for a walk to check out the area, make sure we're safe." "And to look for the evidence. In the woods and in my goddamn garbage." She stood up and grabbed the first pair of clean shorts in reach. "I'm sorry. I'm a journalist, even if I haven't done that for years. My mind'll probably always latch onto something intriguing. I go without thinking sometimes. It was stupid." 144


He watched her tug the shorts up and fasten them, then shook his head like his own distraction disgusted him. "What do you even know when it comes to safety, Ad? Sheesh, have you taken survival courses? Survival in rustic, dangerous conditions?" She went to him and sat close to him. "How do you feel?" He snorted at the way she changed the subject, at her sudden concern for his well-being, and she flushed at the furious expression on his face. Not doubt about it. She'd unraveled every bit of trust he'd started to have in her. "I feel like I've got no reason whatsoever to trust anything you say or do, honey. What made me think I could in the first place? You haven't changed. Your goal is to screw me over the first chance you get, then laugh your ass off that you fooled me into doing it. "And where the hell's your backpack? What's in it? Why'd you take it with you today? Why hide it unless you got something to hide from me?" He couldn't be reasoned with now, she decided. She silently acknowledged the futility of even trying. Standing, she said calmly, "I'm gonna start dinner. I'm starving."

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Chapter 25 I've heard of tension this thick, Natalie thought in frustration during the awkward meal at the tiny kitchen table. I think I actually could cut this stuff with a knife. But all I wanna do is get back that tender trust we started to forge between us. I have no idea how to now though. It's gone too far to turn back time. He was suspicious as hell of her every move. More than anything, she wanted to reassure him but knew anything she did or said would make him even more jumpy. Just stick to the plan. Stick to the truth. Taking a deep breath, she looked up from her stuffed pork chop. "I was thinking we should make some plans," she said carefully. "What kind of plans?" he said with a sneer, like she had nerve for suggesting they were a team that needed a plan. She set down her fork and knife. "Look, Reb, I know this place has been safe for you all this time. But you can't stay here forever. It's a miracle Jameson hasn't found you yet. Since you're not willing to go to the FBI, we should take your evidence and go somewhere else. We'd be a lot better off moving around more often. Not staying in the same place so long. We need to throw him off." Initially, moving out would be a risk. If Jameson had been watching this place and not catching any activity—especially since she'd been here and put up perimeter security around the cabin—going now would alert him. With her team, she could help Reb get out quickly and quietly. 146


"We?" Reb said pointedly, tossing down his fork. He'd eaten well despite his anger, which seemed to grow by the second. That was the best sign of his rapid recovery she could get. Somehow it didn't make her feel any better, though. "I can't leave you on your own. I won't." "Is that your mission?" he asked sarcastically before standing. He was pissed at her. Okay, yeah, she'd gone through his garbage. He knew why she did it. But his anger seemed almost over the top despite his justification for feeling the betrayal he did. She had to convince him she was on his side. She had to. "I wanna stay with you," she said again, loud and clear to his back. He leaned against the door jamb, looking out at the rain. "Why?" came from him, soft and deadly. "You know why." He faced her, his expression hard. "No, I don't know why. I have no damn idea whatsoever." She closed her eyes, wishing his pain didn't cut her so deeply. Wishing all she had to focus on was her mission. But she hated most of all his unwillingness to believe her intentions toward him were all good. She hated that. In light of that, nothing else could matter to him or her. Not even her job. Scraping back her chair, she rose, noting his unwillingness to face her. He turned back to the screen, and she went to him, holding herself back from touching him. He wouldn't accept it now. She couldn't bear any more of his rejection. 147


"Whatever we've been through, Reb—and I know it's a lot and it's shitty as it gets—one thing has always been true for me." Even when he asked, "What's that?" she knew by his tone he'd set himself against believing anything she said. How could she blame him? If he'd come to have any feelings at all for her these past few days, she'd shattered them by going through the stinking garbage pile—debasing herself so completely—to search out his evidence. She'd only done it because Dez gave her no choice. She shouldn't have gone around Reb. She should have waited. Her team leader wasn't willing to wait out Reb handing it over to her freely though. Whether or not they had the luxury of time, she understood that Reb took her actions as the worst kind of betrayal. As proof that her intentions toward him matched the evil of each and every one of her previous acts meant to destroy him in the past. Natalie closed her eyes, bleeding at the strain of holding herself back from putting her arms around him, from giving him reassurance of her motives, her heart. "I love you, Reb," she said, straight from the depths of her own feelings for him. She hadn't wanted to acknowledge those before she came here. She'd wanted to believe she could rise above them. Now she knew she couldn't. He slammed open the screen door and let it close in her face as he stalked out to the porch. Only the wall of rain coming down prevented him from going beyond. He stopped by the railing, standing so rigidly with his back to her, she 148


couldn't believe anything except that the way he'd come to feel about her was intense enough to leave him in shreds after her betrayal. Only that could explain the level of his fury. After all the times Adrienna Kelly ripped him in two with wicked glee, he should have expected it and met her turncoat action with the cold demand that she never darken his door again when she left. She'd gotten past all that these past few days with him—she must have, if he was this angry at himself for becoming vulnerable to her. She had no choice. On the walk back to the cabin and while she prepared dinner, she'd considered that she had to let herself love him and get involved emotionally with him. Not only would it make him more willing to trust her, but it'd keep him safe, too. The only drawback came down to the fact that she wasn't thinking only of what was best for him. She loved him. If she risked letting him know how much, she'd blow her cover sooner rather than later. Yet what choice did she have? Without hesitation, she eased open the screen door and went to him again. She put her arms around his ramrod straight back, her cheek against his soft hair. She caressed him, murmuring, "I love you, Reb. Is that such a bad thing?" "You said you were afraid," he muttered after long minutes, his tone raw and tense. "This morning, you said you were afraid of it all going wrong again." "I was. I am." "Did love make you go after my evidence, damn the consequences?" 149


"Yes! You don't have to believe me, but if you gave me the evidence we could get out of here, Reb. We could be safe. We could be together. That's all I want. To be with you! I am afraid, but I love you, and I don't care about anything but being with you." Surprising her, he turned to face her. She kept her arms around him, leaving no space or room for breathing—or escaping—between them. "I can't help what I feel, Reb. I look at you ... I just think of you ... and I can't help myself." For the first time, she realized his problem wasn't that he didn't believe her words. It was that he did. After all they'd been through, he feared to trust himself—trusting what'd turned out badly every single time before. Natalie couldn't blame him. Adrienna would have turned on him without the slightest warning and slaughtered his heart as a sacrificial atonement that could never satisfy her lust for his blood. She knew Reb wanted more than anything to believe that the new woman he saw in her would never do that to him for anything in the world. As if he couldn't bear another second separated from her, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight enough to make her gasp for air. She didn't want to get away from him either, not even to breathe. "Can you?" he whispered in her ear. He gulped so loudly, she acknowledged before she lifted her face to him that he was overcome with desperation for the confirmation only she could give him. "Can I what, Reb?" 150


He cradled her face in his hands. "Can you forgive me, the way you vowed you never would?" How could someone be so consumed with hatred? How could any woman not love Reb? "I can't live the rest of my life consumed with something so negative, something that hurts me as much as it hurts you and everyone around us. I'm not asking for anything, Reb. I just want you to believe me. Let me be with you. Let me help you. Let me stay." "Tell me you can forgive me, Adrienna. Please." "I forgive you! I love you! Nothing else matters. Can't you understand that? The past is dead and gone. Let it be." He closed his eyes so tightly, she felt the turmoil inside him shaking him like an earthquake of emotion. Tears filled her own eyes as she clutched him to her even harder than before. His fingers dug into her skin mercilessly. He shuddered. "How can I be sure? How can I trust you, honey?" "Just let yourself. Tell yourself the truth. I would never do anything to hurt you. Never again. Maybe in the past I did, but it means nothing now. I'm not the person I was. Neither are you. Can you forgive me for how much I've hurt you?" "I forgive you." "I asked myself before I came here, if something happened to you, would it be worth it not to be together? To have so many obstacles between us? I don't want something to happen to you. I can't let you believe I hate you when I couldn't if I tried. It's not worth it anyway. All that matters to me is loving you and making sure you're safe. Everything since I decided to come here is about that. Believe me, Reb." 151


She braced his jaw with her hands, catching his tears on her thumbs before she kissed him. She was lost in a heartbeat, and desperate joy surged through her. Nothing else matters. Not the past. Not the mission. This is the right thing. The only thing. With a groan, Reb lifted her. Their mouths never separated. He slid his fingers beneath her shorts, beneath the band of her underwear. She was already wet for him by the time he laid her on the bed in the dark house. She hadn't noticed the storm getting worse and shutting down the generator. Neither of them gave it a thought as he kissed her straight out of her skull the way she'd wanted him to from the first. He stripped off her shorts and panties with one hand, leaving her only long enough to release his erection from the confines of his jeans. She rolled them as soon as she had him back again, straddling his thighs between hers and lowering her body onto him until he filled her to capacity. She made love to him, soaking up his groans, his name forming on his tongue deliriously. He rubbed her nipples through her tank top as she worked him, and finally he crept up beneath it. Flesh to flesh contact made her insane. In seconds, she came and he joined her with a ragged cry. Satisfaction was only temporary. He tugged her on her side across the bed. "I love you," he whispered. "I love you, Reb. I need you." Her words spurred him on. In the dark, they made love again and again, so intent on making up for what they'd almost lost. 152


Fatigue eventually claimed their weary bodies, and they lay bonelessly in each other's arms. Vaguely, she wondered how she'd explain it to her superiors—but knew if she got the evidence, they wouldn't care anyway. She'd gladly pay any price for Reb's love.

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Chapter 26 Reb woke when a crack of thunder lit up the cabin for a second before plunging them back into darkness. Adrienna still lay in his arms, her thigh over his. She was naked from the waist down. Even if he tried he couldn't have forgotten the wild hours since he gave up his fears of her. He didn't feel a single regret either. It'd never been this way with Adrienna before. The summer affair they'd enjoyed amounted to nothing more than lust and satisfaction. Much as he'd come to hate himself for it, she could have been any woman for him then. He'd never had such a selfish, shallow relationship before that. He'd loved Raven from start to finish and probably would have stayed with her all his life if she hadn't met Casey. He'd understood how Raven fell so hard, so fast when he met Laura. He'd experienced just that, and he'd loved his wife completely. Yet his heart never got involved with Adrienna even when he'd desperately willed it to. Knowing she'd given birth to his son had been the wake-up call he needed about his own stupidity and heartlessness. Guilt made a man react in ways that had nothing to do with love. This is love, with this woman. Since she showed up, she's healed me in every way a person can heal. Her eyes were open, he saw in another flash of lightning. She smiled and moved her head closer to his on the pillow they shared. He could almost see the depth of her love for him in her eyes. Then she kissed him. 154


Hell, it'd never been so easy with her before. In the past, she made him fight for everything, but he lost it all in the end anyway. This wasn't about penance anymore. "Power's out," he whispered. "Hmm," she said uncaringly. He gently caressed her breast through the tank top, lifting it slightly, stroking his thumb over the proud nub. She smiled some more, moved slightly to make herself more available to his hand. He tugged carefully at the tank top—a not-so-subtle suggestion. "I wanna see you. I wanna put my mouth on every inch of you." He could hear her erratic breathing when she nodded and he lifted her tank top over the fullness of her breasts. By the time it was over her head, he could barely wait. He cradled the heavy globes in his hands, inching down to put his face into the deep cleft between. She groaned, her hips rubbing against him until he brought one achingly hard nipple between his lips. Except superficially by touch, he hadn't noticed that her breasts felt different to him before now. Even the nipple shape felt different against his teeth, his tongue curling around it and then alternately sucking and lapping at it. He stopped thinking about it when she whispered something so sexy and naughty, all he cared about was pleasuring her to the point of complete abandon. He slipped his fingers down to where other things had also changed. She'd been well guarded here in the past. Now, other than a tiny strip of fringe, she was completely bared to him. 155


The feel of her hot flesh was more than he could stand without going in for a closer investigation. She groaned, a throaty, anticipatory chuckle escaping her when he rained kisses down her body, to the source of the greatest enjoyment he could give her. Her legs fell open to accept the full measure of his worship. He drove her with his tongue, viscerally satisfied at the way she cradled his head, timing the lap of his tongue to her gyrations. When she came, she did it hard and fierce. Reb reveled in it with a mindless groan, slipping his tongue inside her, his fingers lower into the hot gush of her violent release. She grabbed his hair and tugged him up to her without hurting him. "Finish it, Reb," she begged. "Come inside me." Only when he kissed her again did he realize that the intimate taste of her was different than before, too. But then she was stroking him full-on, and he entered her warm haven again. Even as he came apart, the thought niggled at him. He wanted to see her. He wanted to be a hundred percent sure about this woman he loved fiercely.

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Chapter 27 Natalie woke wrapped around Reb's body, and she couldn't help grinning like a fool in the brilliant morning light. The slightest movement of her hand against his penis brought him back to full arousal. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "'Morning to you, too, Tiger." He moaned. "Sounds like the rain stopped." When he flipped over to his side to face her, she couldn't help laughing again. She was so happy. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this happy upon waking. "I guess you're back to peak performance," she commented. "Maybe we should start your training today." "Only training I'm interested in involves this bed, the shower, you bent over the kitchen table..." His mouth rasped down her neck, his five-o'clock shadow both rough and intoxicating as he pushed the sheet away from her. Her nipples tightened in mad anticipation. The sensation brought both pleasure and pain. Her body felt raw, yet she wanted him badly—in all the ways he mentioned. "Maybe I'm working you too hard," she teased. The touch of his mouth to her breasts didn't come as expected. Nor did he chuckle at her words. Natalie opened her eyes in confusion and saw an expression on his face she wouldn't have guessed would come now. For a stupid moment, she thought he might be concerned about the scrapes his facial hair inflicted on her skin. But when he 157


yanked himself back from her and out of the bed, she knew for sure that wasn't the case. "What's wrong, Reb?" she demanded, sounding as pitifully guilty as she felt. "Who the hell are you?" He was pulling on his jeans. She frowned and shook her head at him. What would make him ask that again—now? "What are you talking about? You know who I am." He snorted in disbelief. "I know who you wanted me to believe you were, but you're not Adrienna Kelly. You're working with Jameson." He stalked toward the fireplace, clearly at a loss as to what he should do about his suspicions. What he should feel beyond betrayal, twice in two days. "Is this more of his goddamn conditioning before I give up the evidence so you can take it to him? You didn't find it in the garbage so you thought fu ... screwing me would get you what you wanted." "No!" He turned to see her shock at his cruel accusations. No, he wouldn't believe anything she said. "You could explain away everything else. Your allergy cure. You lost your fear of dogs. Why you look younger than ever. Your new eyebrows. I can even buy your workouts made you seem a little taller now than you were before. Hell, I believed all the shit about having a life change that made you realize you didn't wanna spend your life hating me. But Adrienna Kelly had stretch marks from having a baby. Even if they've faded, they'd be there partially. Her nipples were brown. Her 158


breast shape was completely different. She had a strawberry birthmark the size of a fifty cent piece beneath her left breast. Yours are nothing like hers. I should've realized that before. It was too dark last night to see, and I was too far gone to care. Your mouth feels different under mine. You taste different— everywhere. Who are you?" Natalie struggled to free herself from the twisted sheet. Once she did, she wrapped herself with it. Sooner or later, she'd realized he'd have to make the connections. She never considered it happening like this. He was right. The Network could cosmetically change her facial features. They surgically fixed her nose and adjusted her breast size to Adrienna's. After hours of watching Adrienna on television, interviewing some subject during her frequent invitations to join political debates, Natalie spoke just as the woman had, and used the same mannerisms. Adrienna's file had included numerous means of matching her personality. The rest could be chalked up to years and change. But there were some differences that couldn't be discovered any other way except intimately. "Reb, before I say anything, I need you to calm down. You won't absorb anything if you're upset." She couldn't fathom the sudden dawning that filled his face again. Spurred into action by it, he stalked into the bathroom. She dove to the end of the bed to see him tearing open the medicine cabinet and opening the hidden panel. Only when he went through everything in the cabin did she realize he was looking for her backpack. Even more now, she was glad she'd hidden it well enough that he wouldn't find it. 159


"Who are you?" he shouted when he gave up the search and rounded on her on the bed. "And where is Adrienna Kelly?"

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Chapter 28 "Adrienna Kelly died during the September eleventh attack on New York in 2001. She lived there, still worked for the political magazine and was on the scene, unfortunately." Reb had half expected her not to answer him, clinging to her usual load of lies instead. He shook his head. "Her name wasn't on any of the lists released," he argued. The numb shock he felt at hearing about Adrienna forced him to argue. Any facts this woman presented couldn't be trusted. "She'd retained her previous husband's name at that time. She'd become known in reporting circles by the initials of her first and middle name with her last ex-husband's surname. A.E. Jasac. When you knew her well, she used her maiden name Adrienna Kelly. Maybe she wanted to shed her past identity. Besides, her body was never recovered, even though her employer verified her location only minutes before the Trade Towers collapsed." Reb stared at this now-anonymous, sheet-wrapped woman expressionlessly. He'd stopped looking for Adrienna's work long ago. Though Raven told him Adrienna had joined the political magazine as a lead investigative journalist preparing a monthly column, he never read any of her pieces. Pieces apparently written under a different name he wouldn't have recognized anyway. "Maybe you should sit down, Reb," the stranger in his bed suggested softly.

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His legs felt like rubber. She got up automatically in a familiar gesture to help him, but he averted her by going around the bed to a chair in front of the fireplace. With a sigh, she turned and shed the sheet. Much as he wanted to look away, he couldn't as she dressed. Why hadn't he guessed earlier she wasn't Adrienna Kelly? Yeah, I was on some drug ... or maybe because she got me off it ... I wasn't thinking clearly. But despite the remarkable number of similarities between this woman and Adrienna, the sheer differences he saw now brought self-disgust for not realizing the truth earlier. Adrienna would have been thirty-five years old. If this woman was twenty-five, he'd be shocked. "I need coffee," she murmured. He watched her go into the kitchen to make it. He told himself he should have felt more about Adrienna's death. She'd been the unwilling mother of his only child. Yet he couldn't feel anything about her death except a nudge of guilt at the numb relief he experienced when this woman told him the circumstances. Was this stranger dangerous? First and foremost, he had to find out if she was working with Jameson. After all he'd done to Adrienna... No, dammit, Adrienna was this woman's cover. Nothing between Adrienna and me applies here. This woman's not Adrienna. The past has got nothing to do with why she's here now. All this stranger wants is the evidence.

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Even without the Adrienna connection, Reb couldn't get himself to believe this woman had come here to kill him. Not after everything she'd done to help him get well. Hey, but she doesn't have the evidence yet. I haven't given it to her, despite the consummate seduction she put me through last night. Her true colors'll come through if I silverplatter hand her what she came for. Reb knew that right now, this stranger had a single reason for not killing him. The evidence. She'd had good reason to do everything to gain his trust. Again, his evidence. Had last night only been about getting him to give her all she really wanted from him? The question caused a shaft of white-hot pain to shoot through his chest. He didn't dare let himself believe anything but that she'd put a knife in his back the second she found out where he'd hidden the evidence. Hell of an actress. That's for sure. She told me she loved me. And I believed her. I don't know which is worse. At the time, I believed she was Adrienna. I wanted to believe she could forgive me. But last night wasn't all about gaining elusive forgiveness. I fell for her bait—hook, line and sinker. "Do you want some?" Her soft voice brought his head up out of his foolish thoughts. Standing before him, she held two mugs of steaming coffee. Reb glanced away from her eyes quickly. "I need something for my head first," he said without taking one of the mugs. "It's pounding." "I'll get it." She set both mugs on the rickety table and went back to the kitchen. 163


Her manner had changed. The confidence he'd seen in her nearly every minute previously seemed shaken. Her obvious discomfort put an awkwardness between them that smacked of rushed intimacy. He would have expected her to go into combat mode, telling him she did what she had to do—so sorry if he assumed it was any more than that. If she worked for Jameson, she should have acted that way when he found out the truth. But without the evidence in her hot little hand, what else could she do but act meek and sorry the way she was? She brought juice and two caplets to him. He looked at her expectantly, and she didn't disappoint him. "Okay. My name is Natalie Francis." She sat down with him and picked up her coffee, watching him swallow the ibuprofen. "I don't work for Jameson. I never would. But I am an agent. I work for a government organization. I'm here to protect you, Reb." "What interest does your 'government organization' have in my evidence?" "We're after Jameson, too, of course. With your evidence, we can take him down for good." He set down the juice glass and retrieved the coffee, realizing now how badly his body craved the caffeine. He was hungry, too—not a familiar sensation any longer—but he needed to know what he was up against first. "What are you cleared for?" he asked after sipping the strong, rich brew she'd made. "If I refuse to give up my evidence, are you gonna kill me?" Her level expression didn't alter. 164


"I told you, Reb, I'm here to protect you. I know you won't believe that after ... after..." Memories of their lovemaking lunged at him. "Yeah. After," he muttered hoarsely. "What the hell was that all about?" He didn't expect deep color to saturate her cheeks. Her humiliation seemed so intense, she actually glanced away. "That wasn't supposed to be part of the job. I was supposed to talk you into giving up the evidence, or find it on my own. As soon as I had it, I could bring you in where you can be protected." "You got caught up in your act?" His attempt at sarcasm fell flat with his own vulnerability. She set down her coffee and slid out of her chair to kneel before him. He could see she thought about touching him. But apparently she decided she couldn't be certain of his reaction. "No. No—the truth is, ever since I read the profiles on you and Adrienna while I was preparing for this mission ... you've intrigued me." He frowned at her doubtfully. Her answer didn't please him, though it did surprise him. How dumb did she think he was? He couldn't subscribe any of what she'd done to genuine feelings for him. If it hadn't been an act ... He couldn't let himself believe any other scenario. Natalie explained some more. "You and Adrienna had a complicated relationship, made more complicated by her love/hate feelings for you and because of the son you conceived together. I believe she had psychological problems. She seemed to thrive on tormenting you and herself." 165


"Maybe she was justified," he muttered, glancing away from this woman kneeling too close but not close enough to satisfy him. "I don't believe that," Natalie said firmly. "Doesn't matter now, does it? She's dead. She died hating me. I'll never have her forgiveness." The pain he saw in Natalie's face, the way she reached for him—holding him with her hands around his bare waist, her cheek against his chest—caused him more confusion he couldn't deal with at the moment. "I wanted to give you that, Reb. I wanted to give you freedom from that burden. It's not fair. I'm sorry. I've failed ... everyone." She's an agent. She came here to get something from you. Evidence. Not love. Don't believe her. But why is she still playing out this scenario if we both know the truth? She lifted her gaze to him, her gorgeous green eyes pleading with him. "Listen to me, Reb, please. We can help you. I can't bear to think of you spending the rest of your life like this. Hiding out. Isolating yourself from everyone who cares about you. I can't bear the thought of you alone." He couldn't understand her at all. He didn't understand why he wanted to believe her so damn bad. She'd lied to him from start to finish. It should have been a deal breaker except that his heart was too involved for its own good. "No matter where I go, Jameson'll hunt me. I'll never be free until he's dead. Why do you even care? It's just another job for you." 166


She backed away and let him out. What he couldn't bear was another second of her pretending to love him and care about him. If it was the last thing he did, he absolutely could not believe anything she said.

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Chapter 29 Reb had eaten next to nothing of the breakfast she'd prepared. He was out on the porch now, smoking and avoiding her. More than anything, she wanted to say something, anything to make it all right. She already knew he wasn't up to accepting much from her. No way would he believe that, from the first time she read his profile, her feelings for him sparked and grew. By the time her team moved out on their mission, she'd been half in love with him. Meeting him, getting to know him, had only completed the inevitable. And, after last night... She shook her head at the futility of it all, plunging another dish in her soapy water. He was right in that she'd been cleared for anything to gain his trust in order to convince him to give her the evidence. She wouldn't be reprimanded for sleeping with him, whether or not it resulted in the emergence of his evidence. Telling her superiors her seduction of Reb failed to produce the desired results would be easy enough. How to do that without showing any emotion? If her superiors found out she'd gotten personally involved with Reb, oh yeah, the consequences would be severe. Relationships outside of those that went along with training and missions were forbidden in the Network. Some operatives found a way to be together, but it was rare. The Network really seemed omniscient. No one below a Level 3 status would attempt it. An operative stupid enough to fall for a subject outside the organization was always caught. The 168


heads would squash any hint of a relationship with a threat and then a punishment a hundred times more severe than the 'crime.' She'd heard a bullet in the brain would follow an official reprimand for getting involved in personal relationships. I have to get that evidence, dammit. That's all that matters now. Reb hates me and deserves to. I might as well salvage this mission. It means leaving him in the dark for a little longer for his own good. It's not like there could ever be a future for us anyway, no matter what we feel for each other. I'm an operative. I gave my life to the Network willingly. There's nothing else for me now. She hung up the towel, wet from the breakfast dishes she'd dried, then went to the fireplace. Using the broom, she nudged the inner recesses of the chimney until she felt the give. Her backpack fell into her waiting hands. After dusting the soot from it, she shrugged it over her shoulders. Reb had lit yet another one of his smelly cigarettes when she went out to the porch. He held himself in check, not taking any apparent notice of her. "I have to check in. If I don't check in every twenty-four hours, my team will move in." "Your team? And where are they?" "Not far. It'd help us both if you gave me the evidence now, Reb. I promise you'll be safe." His expression made it clear he didn't believe a word she said. His glance shifted to her backpack, then aimlessly out to the clearing once more. "I'm not holding you here, lady. I'd be happy if you never came back." 169


She couldn't let his words pierce her. They did anyway. "Are you gonna run while I'm gone?" The lump in her throat made her want to beg him to believe her, trust her again. He didn't see any reason to do either, and she'd run out of ways to reason with him. "If I do?" She took a deep breath, wishing stupidly he'd face her. "I'll find you if you run. Wherever you go, I'll find you. Count on it." She wouldn't have a second of difficulty doing it. She'd made sure of that this morning. "Then it doesn't matter what I do, does it?" "That's where you're wrong, Tiger," she said on instinct, pushing her feet forward, down the porch steps. Scout got up and whimpered for her. She stopped long enough to scratch his ears affectionately. For a moment, she felt sure he'd go with her, but she said, "Stay with Reb, boy." She glanced at him, and he averted his narrowed gaze quickly. She didn't let him get away so easily this time. "I lied about who I was, Reb. That's true. But, whether you're willing to believe it or not, I never lied to you after that. Not even once."

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Chapter 30 As soon as she disappeared into the trees toward the east, Reb stubbed his cigarette out on the railing and rushed back into the house for his shoes. He really had to run after that to pick up her trail. His intention probably wasn't what it should have been. All he wanted to do was see for himself that she wasn't directly working with Jamison or the tall, dark badass that'd been with Jameson that day two years ago in his apartment. Once he confirmed that, it'd help him to know what to believe about her. She moved like a ghost through the dense foliage of overgrown woods. Whatever her job was specifically, he knew she was good at it. In every way. As if her booted feet never touched the forest floor, she glided through the trees soundlessly. He didn't have any such luck. Fruitlessly, he tried to be silent while he followed her from as far a distance as he could without losing her. His shoes seemed to find every last twig, causing it to snap louder than firecrackers. He came down hard on every dry leaf. Because she never looked back, wondered if his noisy passage was only his imagination. Picking up his pace when he lost sight of her for a moment, he thought about her words on the porch. What she said about not lying to him after she told him she was Adrienna. She'd lied about who she was, but what was true and what wasn't? If last night hadn't been a lie... 171


Hell, he didn't even want to consider the fact that he'd fallen like a load of anvils for a complete stranger. One who could be working with his enemy. Even now, knowing what he knew, knowing the truth too late, he couldn't tolerate the memories of what they shared. He didn't want to face that none of it'd been real. That it'd all just been a way for her to get what she'd come for. He still loved her. That, most of all, he couldn't tolerate. She stopped short at a wide clearing. Reb halted behind a tree in a hurry. Her whistle soaring through the open area was quickly followed by a corresponding one from the opposite side of the clearing. She moved out in to the clearing, setting down her bag. Reb crept closer, almost where she'd been standing when she whistled. A young guy emerged from the opposite side. At first, Reb felt certain it was the same badass who'd been with Jameson in his apartment. That one had been confident, dark, muscular, menacing—same as this one. But the closer this dude got to Natalie, the more Reb realized it wasn't the same guy at all. There was something familiar about him, about Jameson and his partner, about Natalie Francis—something all of them had that he wasn't exactly sure he could place. Their training? While this guy isn't Jameson or the badass, it doesn't mean Jameson doesn't have a team, too. This team. How can I trust her? Yet, despite his continuing reservations, not seeing evidence of Jameson's presence reassured him that maybe Natalie hadn't and wasn't lying about everything. 172


Chapter 31 "My cover's blown," Natalie said without preface. After years of having her mentor drill into her that a potential problem couldn't be dealt with—or deterred from a collision course—until it was admitted, she knew getting it out and over with now was the only thing she could do. Dez slipped his shades off. "What happened?" He didn't look as surprised, let alone angry, as she expected him to. She almost wondered if he'd realized it might happen early in the play. Taking a deep breath, she confessed with no small amount of chagrin, "I slept with him. Got in over my head." Dez didn't seem to know whether to laugh or groan. "Sheesh, Nat, you've only been out here a few days. You always work fast, I suppose. Did he give up the evidence after?" She was able to smother her fervent need to insist she hadn't done it to get what the mission demanded she secure. Dez didn't need to know she loved Reb. "No. And I don't know if he'll give it to me. He knows I'm not Adrienna Kelly now and doesn't trust me one iota." Proven by the fact that he'd followed her here. And she was aware Dez knew it as well as she did—she'd seen his gaze flicker over her shoulder. Reb hid behind the first line of trees she'd come out from. "He thinks I'm working for Jameson." Dez didn't glance Reb's way again, but lowered his voice when he asked, "What'd you tell him?" 173


"That I'm an agent for the United States government. I didn't correct him when he assumed FBI. I told him we want the evidence on Jameson to take him down. I also told him we plan to bring him in where he'll be safe." "He buy it?" "I don't know. He followed me here, so I doubt it. What about the vial?" Dez lifted an eyebrow. "One of Jameson's own brews. It's not fatal, even taken over a long period of time, the way Porter's presumably been taking it. It's not particularly addictive, so if you're right and he only takes it once every couple weeks because of the conditioning, he'll recover completely soon. No lasting affects." Natalie carefully schooled herself not to give in to the tears of relief burning behind her eyes. "Make sure he doesn't take any more," Dez added unnecessarily. "I hid his stash. Thank God it's not a slow-acting poison. He's over the worst of the withdrawal." Dez nodded. "Did your team follow behind me to search the woods yesterday?" "Yeah. But you didn't leave any markers for anything suspicious. Short of digging up every inch of the ground, we didn't find anything either. Our detectors didn't highlight anything. I assume you didn't find anything in the trash?" "No." "You're gonna have to get him to give it up to you voluntarily, Nat. Any way you can. It's the only way." 174


She knew exactly what Dez was suggesting. Long before the team went out, she'd been given options. One of the last was to threaten the life of Reb's son to get him to disclose the location of his evidence. She'd rather take a bullet to the brain than do that. "I was thinking. You found the graveyard in the south quadrant, right?" Dez nodded. "When I first got here, Reb said he hid the evidence somewhere no one would ever think to look." "You think he buried it in the graveyard?" Dez asked, and she could see he found merit in it. "It's worth looking into. Bulldoze the area. It's probably in one of the caskets in a polycarbonate or plastic box." Dez's expression told her, without her having to turn around to verify it, that Reb had moved closer to them the better to eavesdrop. "I'll get my team out there within the hour. Even if it's not in one of the graves, we need to extract Porter today. Jameson's too close. I can feel him." Natalie nodded. "It'll take a lot to get him to agree to come with me now, but I'll do whatever I have to." "Then let's use Scenario B for extraction. I'll have a car waiting on the north road. Make contact at most twenty-four hours after you get him out, and we'll pick you both up."

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Chapter 32 Natalie didn't have one iota of trouble tracking Reb back to the cabin. He had no skills when it came to silent passage through forestland. Per her intention, she came out in front of him and doubled back just before he reached the cabin. She leaned back against a tree beside his path. When he finally passed it, she called to him," Enjoying your walk, Tiger?" Whirling, his surprise gave way to annoyance at the sassy look she gave him. "That's your team? One guy?" "He's the team leader. He's running this op, so, yeah, I report only to him. He reports back to our superiors. His name is Dez. By the way, he had a vial of the drug you were addicted to tested. One of Jameson's own creations. Addictive, but not very and not lethal. You'll make a full recovery." She pushed herself away from the tree and fell into step beside him. "Why tell me?" he asked. "Because I want you to trust me." Putting herself in Reb's position, she could easily understand his sense of betrayal added a malicious spin to everything she said and did. "Good luck, lady. Not gonna happen anytime soon." She knew appealing to him emotionally—the way she instinctively wanted to—wouldn't convince him. Only logic would. "Why would I wanna train you to defend yourself if I wanted to kill you, Reb? Why would I feed and nurse you and 176


your dog back to health if my intention was to ultimately kill you?" "I don't know. I've been asking myself the same questions." Natalie grimaced. What did she expect? She'd shattered his trust in her when he found out the truth. She wasn't who she'd led him to believe she was. It'd take time to rebuild that trust. Unfortunately, time was the one thing they didn't have. At least he hadn't overheard her and Dez talking. If his evidence was indeed hidden where she supposed it to be, he would have rushed to the graveyard to make sure it remained safe instead of heading back to the cabin. Or maybe the evidence wasn't there either. "Look, you seem to have suspicions about what I've got in my backpack. You wanna look?" Stopping on the path, she pulled if off and handed it to him. "It doesn't contain what I think you believe it does. It just has some communication stuff, a micro laptop so I can contact my team if I need to. Some guns and ammo. Combat vests." For some reason, she convinced herself he wouldn't take it. But a half minute after she offered it to him, he yanked the sturdy, waterproof pack. He found only what she claimed. Instead of appearing satisfied, he shoved everything back inside, thrust it at her, and kept walking. Okay, she acknowledged, this is gonna be a toughie. I have to convince Reb to leave here with me tonight—with his evidence. 177


Natalie's team would simulate an attack on the cabin, posing as Jameson's. Reb would have no choice but to leave with her or be captured by his enemy. Focus on the mission, she reminded herself grimly, properly repacking and closing her bag before following him. Focus on the mission when all I really wanna do is put my arms around Reb and convince him I really do love him.

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Chapter 33 Damn the rain. Reb felt almost as frustrated by it as by the forced confinement with this person he didn't know from Eve. Ironically, I've been more intimate with this stranger than making first acquaintances usually allows. Reb stole a glance at Natalie and got another one of her heartbroken expressions for his trouble. It made him crazy enough to wish he'd run earlier this day. But he wouldn't have had time to retrieve his evidence if he'd done that. Besides, she would've been on him in a heartbeat. If he knew nothing else about this woman, he was at least sure of one thing—she was good. Good enough to make him wonder what those heartbroken glances meant. Another act, another seduction? Or something mutual between them? He'd never seen anyone as skilled as she was, in every conceivable area. And damn that in a few hours they'd have to make a decision about sleeping arrangements. When he came to the cabin, he planned to be alone from start to finish except for Scout. There was no extra bedding, no cot. He'd considered telling her to fend for herself, but he'd been raised a gentleman, despite detours from the tradition. He wouldn't let her sleep on the cold, bare floor. He acknowledged she'd be too stubborn to let him sleep on the floor. Who the hell was she? Yeah, he understood she was undercover. Her mission was to work him until she had his evidence. Whoever she worked for put a lot into the successful completion of this mission. 179


Each time Reb looked at Natalie, he was taken aback by her sheer likeness to Adrienna. Sure, the differences were there, but considering how many years he'd known Adrienna, this lady fooled him almost completely. Who paid for the face lifts, the hours of training and repetition that must have gone into getting Adrienna's voice and mannerisms perfectly down pat? And she knew everything. She knew things ... things she shouldn't know. Things that were between me and Adrienna and nobody else. So who knew enough to tell this woman? Yet someone found out. Hell yeah, somebody put a lot into me buying this chick's cover. So who is she really? Reb wondered what Natalie's life was like outside her loyalty to whatever group she worked for. Was she married? The fact that she'd slept with him didn't prove her martial status one way or the other. Did she have a lover? He doubted she had kids. Her body was too perfect for that, and she was young. He'd be surprised if she was over twenty-five. The government didn't recruit teenagers as far as he knew, so she had to be legal at least. What made her go into the FBI, if she did work for them? He'd tried hard to overhear her with her 'leader' earlier that day, but not one word had come through to give him a clue whether he could trust her. Sighing, he wished for some solid evidence for or against her to drop into his lap. Anything to get him out of this agonizing limbo of not knowing. "What are you thinking about?" she asked, jolting him into realizing he'd been staring at her from near the fireplace. 180


She'd stood up awhile ago. She now leaned against the wall next to the window beside the door. He gulped back his words meant to hurt her the way she'd hurt him. She was just doing her job. He hadn't fully accepted that, especially since the knowledge came with such ruthless barbs. He was her job. She'd done him like a pro, too. "You." "What do you wanna know?" she asked, striding across the room to sit in the chair beside him. Aware she seemed willing to discuss whatever she could with him, he took advantage of his need to know more about her. "What kind of training do you have?" "All kinds. You name it. The organization encourages us to be well-rounded. To know something about basically everything. You never know what you'll need to make a mission a success. Our learning never stops. We're required to earn knowledge at all times in between missions and training." "So you're one of their top agents?" She snorted a laugh. "Far from it. I'm Level 6—barely off the bottom floor, though I'll get a promotion to Level 5 if this mission concludes successful. The only reason I got a Class B mission like this is because I looked the most like Adrienna Kelly before I went through the reconstruction and cosmetic surgeries. We also had a lot in common with our pasts." He wondered why she'd agreed to something so radical, but then he knew her loyalty. "Don't get me wrong, I've sweat blood to get as far as I have. But my training is far from over." 181


"Do you have a specialty? Or does the organization not encourage that?" "Yeah, they do encourage it. My specialties are ordnance. Combat." Reb couldn't help his surprise. Sure, he knew firsthand how strong she was—stronger and faster than two grown men, he'd bet. But her looks were utterly feminine and delicate. He supposed that deception worked in her favor a lot in her line of work. "Weapons?" She grinned slightly. "I'm a crack shot at any possible distance. I just love playing with weapons. Optimizing them. I get it from my father." "You and your old man work for the same organization?" he asked in surprise. "Yeah. I was brought in because I have the same capabilities he does. I didn't know him before then. It was just my mom and me ... and her endless string of boyfriends ... when I was growing up. She never told me about my father. She just said it was a one-nighter, and she didn't know him before that 'magical' night. But I guessed he checked up on her after that, found out about me. He knew I wasn't growing up with good influences. I was so bored all the time, I chose friends who liked trouble." She shook her head like none of that mattered now. "Anyway, I built my own gun when I was fourteen. For a friend's old man actually. He had two fingers missing from his dominant hand, so it was hard for him to hunt and hit his target squarely. So I designed the gun to take his peculiar needs into account. I was recruited by the organization five 182


years ago. My dad convinced them I could be an asset. He figured either I'd end up in jail, or he'd help me find a way to put my strengths to good use. He saved me from myself. I love everything about my job." She glanced away, a pained expression making her breathing slightly ragged. "Except this." Listening to her talk about her life so openly—she'd have to be an actress beyond compare if she lied just now— softened him toward her more than he knew he should allow. "Except what?" he asked in a hoarse voice. She faced him again, her eyes filled with all the emotions that'd convinced him she was true blue last night. Dammit, why did he want to believe her so much? "I hate making someone believe I'm someone or something I'm not. I hate that you believe everything we shared was a lie." "This has happened before?" he forced himself to ask. Anything to avoid asking what he meant to her. That was what he wanted to know bad enough to rip his insides to shreds. She swallowed visibly. "My first field mission. I fell for the subject. I was young—just barely out of fourteen-hour days of classes and training. Green as hell. It was the first time I tried to put the head training to practical use. I failed miserably. Short-term Class C mission. I was supposed to spy on a contraband weapons middleman, get the name of his supplier." And she'd fallen for him. "What attracted you?" 183


"I didn't wanna believe he was the criminal my superiors told me he was. You don't think of criminals as anything but scum. You certainly don't think of 'em as good looking, charming or dedicated. Utterly convinced that he's on the side of the good." So she fell for criminals while wearing rose colored glasses. What was her excuse with him? "I'm not a criminal. Jameson murdered my old man when I was fifteen. I didn't know who he was at the time, but I dedicated my life to finding out. I pursued him until I exposed him. And I got some people I loved killed in the process. I put other lives in danger. Maybe that is a crime. Maybe it does make me a criminal." She slid off her chair and kneeled in front of him. His throat felt tight remembering all he'd lost, all the damage he'd caused to avenge his father. It wasn't worth it. But only in hindsight could he say that with total conviction. Every step before, he felt he was doing right by his old man. "Oh Reb, you're not a criminal. I know that. I don't fall for guys just because they're bad for me, if that's what you think. You've spent a lifetime paying for actions you were convinced were right and noble. Who can dispute whether or not they were? You didn't anticipate anything that happened. But you keep paying for all of it now like you believe you committed those crimes. There's no way for you to win. You couldn't force yourself to love Adrienna, even after you realized what her feelings for you were doing to her mentally. Did you expect Laura to leave you because of your relationship with Adrienna? I think you didn't believe you deserved Laura in the first place. And I think you stay out here, isolated, because 184


deep down you believe you deserve to pay forever. You think your death and Jameson's conviction are the only way to pay your debts toward those you love." He held himself together by a weak thread. He didn't want this stranger to understand him so damn well. He didn't need that. Not when his guilt had been sentenced long ago. Not when he'd vowed never to put another life in danger. Reb slid out, away from her, muttering that he was tired. No lie. He couldn't face her broken expression anymore, even when she said to his back, "I won't let you do it, Reb. I won't let you suffer alone anymore."

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Chapter 34 She'd checked her guns thoroughly in the soft glow of the candle she'd placed on the lid of a soup can in the middle of the kitchen table. The antsiness she'd felt for the last hour didn't make sense even to her. Sure, she was eager to get the mission going, to get Reb out, but she knew tonight's op wasn't authentic. Her team would be posing as Jameson and his men. None of it would be real. The facts couldn't explain the dread growing in her chest, made worse by Scout lurking around the front door soundlessly. The farthest perimeter alarm she'd set around the cabin went off. She'd turned the volume off, but she saw the light on her monitor flash on and stay lit. Dez hadn't given her a specific time they'd move in, but darkness had just fallen. Her leader would have waited a couple hours after night came before moving in. What the hell's going on? Quickly, she blew out the candle, got her guns and backpack. Crouching low, she felt her way over to the window on the east side of the cabin. Light rain fell outside, tapping the windows like annoying fingers. Though she didn't see any movement, the nervousness in her chest metastasized. She crept over to the bed and put a hand over Reb's mouth, her mouth against his ear. "It's me. Don't fight. We're in trouble."

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His head turned slightly toward her, and she saw his eyes were open and alert in the darkness. "We have to get out of here," she whispered. "What's wrong?" "We have company. I've signaled my team. Get up. Your shoes are here. Stay down whatever you do." Letting him go, she backed up and pulled one of the combat vests from her pack. She handed it to Reb while he sat on the floor near the bathroom floor with her. He took it and the gun she offered him. She led his hand to the pocket of the vest that held extra clips, and he nodded at her. With her own vest on, she zipped her pack and shrugged it over her arms. Reb leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "We have to get the evidence first." "No time." "I can't leave without it." "You wanna live? Then you don't have a choice." She could feel his adamancy. "It's the only way for me to stay alive." "Did you hide it in one of the graves in the south quadrant of these woods?" When he reared back in shock, she knew she'd guessed correctly. "How did you know?" he accused. She put her finger to her lips to signal him to speak softer. "My team and I have been over inch of the property. It's the only thing that made sense. My team will have retrieved it earlier today. Now we need to get you to safety. I need you 187


to follow me, Reb. Do everything I say without question. Trust me. Be ready to go on my signal." "What about Scout?" Reb asked. She'd taken care of him earlier, knowing he'd sense they had company as soon as she did. His barking would have created a problem when he sensed the danger. She'd spiked his dinner with a pill to temporarily remove the sound from his bark. "If he can climb out a window, he can come—but he'll need a lead of some sort. Now stay behind me as close as you can, take cover whenever you're able so you stay out of sight." Moving in a crouch to the end of the bed, she whistled softly. Scout came to her. She could see he was trying futilely to bark but no noise beyond a hoarse wheeze issued. She darted to the window at the north side of the cabin. Reb obeyed her earlier instructions—he stayed right behind her. Without a sound, she pushed the window up. After listening and looking for a few seconds, she figured she wouldn't get a better opportunity. She slipped out to the ground. Their visitors closed in. Their movements were subtle, but she detected them instinctively. Watching carefully, she signaled Reb to join her. He sent Scout out first, handing her the lead so she could keep the dog in check. A second later, he joined them. "Run to the north, toward the road. There's a car waiting. Take Scout. He won't give away your position. I'll cover you."

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"I'm not leaving you here alone," he insisted in disbelief. His breathing already sounded labored. He wasn't yet in peak health for this, but he'd have to do the best he could. "I'm right behind you. Go. No questions. No heroics. We don't have time for either." She shoved him in the direction he needed to go. He looked back at her, then did as she ordered him.

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Chapter 35 Reb made it to the first line of trees with Scout right beside him, still making that weird choking-on-a-bone sound instead of barking. Hearing voices, Reb turned back. Jameson had found him. That much he knew. And Natalie was willing to sacrifice her own life to save his near-worthless one. He saw her running toward them. Behind her came the loud reports of gunfire issuing from multiple directions. He heard her gasp. Stepping out of hiding, he ran to her. Holding her arm, she corrected her course to reach him, but her words to him were far from welcoming: "Go, dammit. What are you waiting for? Run!" "Not without you," he insisted again, falling in beside her. A voice behind in the clearing shouted, "Cease fire. We need Porter alive." The voice was familiar, but Reb couldn't say with any degree of certainty if it belonged to Jameson. That in itself told him it wasn't the criminal. He'd listened to overheard conversations of Jameson's for so long, he could have picked the guy's voice out in a room of a hundred. Did Jameson send the dark badass to lead the assault on me? Just like him to make someone else do his dirty work. They ran away from the voice, toward the road he knew to be a mile or so away. He realized how out of shape he was. When he first went into hiding, he worked out every day to keep himself ready for anything. His body screamed to stop 190


long before he and Natalie burst out of the trees into a ditch off the main road. She paused for a second only, putting something small and squarish hanging around her neck to her eyes. Binoculars, night vision ones most likely. She pointed to something he couldn't see until they were almost on top of it. The car. Opening the back door, she urged Scout in. "You drive," she said to Reb. "Fast. Without lights until we meet up with steady traffic. Key's under the passenger's seat." She'd gone around to the other side of the car. They both got in. He found the key where she said it'd be and shoved it in the ignition. For a few minutes, he concentrated on driving instead of spewing forth the multitude of questions he had about their nocturnal activities. When he turned to her, he saw her ripping a shirt that'd been in her backpack. Using her teeth, she tied the strip around her upper arm. Even through the muffle in her mouth, he heard her moan in pain as she tried to tighten it. "Are you hit?" he realized. "It's not serious," she said, gasping slightly. "They were out of range. The bullet's not in deep. Won't be hard to get out. I'll be okay." But she didn't sound anywhere near okay. Her voice was weak and ragged. "Like hell. You're going to a hospital." She shook her head, picking up something else from under her seat and handing it to him. He realized it was a roll of cash once he took it. 191


"No. Somewhere ... Hotel. Bottom floor. At least an hour from here unless you sense we're being followed. Bring ... first aid kit. I can ... remove ... myself there." He barely understood her words. Was she actually considering removing the bullet by herself? Did her training also include medical? Hell, it probably does. She wasn't moving now, and he worried she'd passed out and was losing blood. Reb was only too aware that he didn't have any training. Instead of worrying so much about their relationship, he should have taken her up on the offer to train him in selfdefense. He could have helped her in this rather than just been a liability to her. He couldn't even gauge whether they were being followed. The best he could do was determine there were no car lights behind them at all until he got to the highway and joined steady traffic. Her cold clamminess stressed him more when he touched her face. She wasn't okay. They needed help. At the hour she insisted on, he started looking for a hotel. He didn't like leaving her alone even just for the few minutes it took to secure a room. She remained unconscious, he noticed, as he packed her bag with the first aid kit and the guns. With it on his shoulder, he picked her up in his arms, calling to Scout. The dog followed without a peep. Laying her on the bed, he saw in the lamplight how pale she was. But the tie-off she'd used had worked to stem the flow of blood. 192


What if she dies? Remember the vow? No more death. No more pain. I never wanna cause another woman a second of pain. Why didn't I give her the evidence today? Long ago? Why didn't I trust her? She was a stranger. That was true enough, but he couldn't shake his feelings for her. He loved her. He couldn't let her die.

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Chapter 36 Reb's voice, frantically calling her name, forced her to consciousness. The pain she experienced shouldn't have been as unbearable as it was. She'd been shot before. For a minute, she could barely get her eyes open against the throbbing agony. Then she remembered that Reb wasn't out of danger yet. Something went wrong tonight. She came to full awareness to acknowledge that. The ruse was supposed to get Reb out, but the team surrounding the cabin hadn't been her own. Jameson had found Reb. She had to discover what happened. But first she needed to get Reb somewhere safe. She sat up an instant after her eyes snapped open. Her stomach and head both swam dangerously. Reb's hands closed over her shoulders, invigorating her with renewed strength. Worry etched every line in his face. Scout stood nearby and greeted her with an audible bark. The temporary laryngitis had worn off. "We don't have much time," she said, sounding hoarse and sluggish to her own ears. "Tell me what to do." "I need ice." "There's a machine at the end of the hall. I'll get it." She shook her head. "I don't want you out in the open." "We weren't followed." Natalie could see he wasn't entirely sure on that point. "We can't be certain." 194


Jameson had the skills to follow them with just his nose. "I won't be gone more than a minute." She wanted to argue, but the bullet in her arm felt like it was red-hot. If she didn't get it out soon, she wouldn't be able to help Reb. "Take Scout. If you're not back in one minute, I'm coming after you." He started to shed the combat vest. "Keep that on. Keep it zipped. Take a gun with you. It's late—nobody'll see you. The only people who might see you won't be thinking about anything except capturing you or putting a bullet between your eyes." The look on his face disturbed her, but he had to know they weren't playing a game. She watched him leave with Scout and propped the door open so she'd hear if anything happened. Even that didn't stop her from worrying. She had to make contact with her team, had to find out what the hell had gone down tonight, but it wasn't safe to do it in this place. As she waited for Reb, she took out the equipment she needed. She heard Reb and Scout coming and felt profound relief when he closed the door behind them. "What can I do?" he asked uncertainly, setting down the ice bucket with his gaze on the sterile-as-she-could-makethem tools. "Can you hold ice against the wound after I get the makeshift bandage off?" "It'll bleed if you take it off." 195


She nodded. "Probably. Probably a lot. But this bullet needs to come out." With one end of the cloth in her teeth, she tried to unknot it herself. Reb brushed her hand away carefully, saying, "Let me do it." Gentle as he was untying and easing the blood-saturated bandage off, she nearly passed out with all the tugging and movement against the wound. Surprisingly, it didn't bleed again. He took a handful of ice and brought it to the puckered and swollen hole in her skin. "Sorry," he muttered when she flinched and gasped. "I'm okay. Just hold the ice there." He stared at her as they waited. "You're gonna remove the bullet yourself?" She was sure his hand must be numb by now, but he didn't complain despite the minutes that ticked by. "Unless you think you can do it." Their gazes met, and his were filled with a torment she wasn't sure she understood. "I'd make it worse. I don't have a clue what to do. I wish I had half of your training right now." "I can do it. Don't worry about it. I've done it before." Only this time, it wasn't as easy to reach as when she'd taken a slug in the leg. It'd taken her team over seventy-two hours to make contact with her that time, so she'd been forced to administer medical treatment to herself. "I can't imagine your life, Natalie." 196


"I think that's good," she indicated the bloody ice, and he pulled back carefully. "What can't you imagine? How are you and I so different?" The conversation would divert her attention—or at least his—while she dug the bullet out. Reb looked positively white with horror, watching her work the blade against the bullet. "You spent your life undercover. Didn't you?" she said through gritted teeth. She fought the queasiness and spots floating in front her eyes, threatening her ability to stay conscious. "Looking for your dad's killer. That was dangerous work, even if you didn't realize it most of the time. You went underground. That's my life. Hiding and coming out somewhere ... someone else ... Ahh..." Blood gushed forth when the bullet came out with a deep, wet, sucking sound and fell with a crack on the table. "Use ... ice." Right now, she knew only the cold would keep her lucid. Reb scooped up more ice and soon it was blood-red as her arm and the table. With her good arm, she grabbed her own handful of the ice and rubbed it frantically over her feverish face. "You okay, Natalie?" Reb asked just as the shock of the cold started to penetrate her blurriness. "Yes. Keep on." "This ice can't be clean. It might cause an infection." "It's not. But, once the wound's numb, I'll pour antiseptic in it. I have a couple days' worth of antibiotics." "Whoever prepared that car for us planned well." 197


She nodded. Getting shot and being on the lam was always a possibility they were trained to be ready for. She picked up the bottle of antiseptic, waiting for Reb to back away with the ice, then poured it into the wound. The pain wasn't as bad as she feared, though the wound bled freely. The ice had numbed the first layer or two of her skin enough to make it bearable. She picked up the needle and sewed up the wound as fast and neat as she could before the cold-numb could wear off. Once she was done, she pour more antiseptic on it. Reb helped her wash the blood off her arm before dressing her bicep with sterile cotton pads, gauze, followed by a sticky wrap that adhered without the need for tape. "Hopefully the bleeding will stop. Right now, we need to go. Ditch the car first." "You don't have the energy to do anything," Reb said as she tossed the first aid kit back together. She wrapped the bullet and bloody scalpel in a washcloth and tucked it into her backpack with the kit. "Can you even walk?" "Is there a mini bar in this room?" she asked, ignoring him. "I could use some orange juice." "There's a juice machine near the ice at the end of the hall," he said, grimacing at his inability to convince her to slow down. "Look, you clean up. I'll get the juice." "One minute or less. Take Scout. Leave the door open." He nodded, and she took the packets of antibiotics and codeine into the bathroom. After swallowing the pills, she washed her hands and splashed cold water on her face. She 198


needed to be alert and awake. She didn't know how she'd do either. The only thing she knew was she had to keep Reb safe. Back in the room, she repacked her backpack, aware suddenly that she still didn't hear Reb and Scout coming back. She shrugged the pack painfully on her back, then grabbed the guns she'd left out. When she left the room, she heard Reb down the hall, swearing and obviously fighting with the drink machine. Gliding soundlessly down the hall, she approached the alcove slowly just as Reb turned with a second bottle of juice. His dog started growling low in his throat. Natalie darted behind another hallway. She waited only seconds before she peeked out. There was a hallway on either side of the alcove where Reb and Scout were standing. She could see a shadow on the rug showing there was a human figure in each hallway. Facing her, oblivious to the men stalking him on the other sides of the walls beside him, Reb turned and she raised her hand to give him the signal to stop and be quiet. Her eyes did the rest to impart to him silently the danger he was in. She could tell he wanted to speak. Confusion dominated his expression until he heard, just as she did, the slither of footsteps. Natalie ducked back out of sight. These guys weren't on her team. Her team would never put themselves in such a precarious position. Holding her breath, she waited until the shadows emerged further and then the men came into sight. At that moment, 199


she didn't hesitate. She jumped dead center in the hall leading to the alcove Reb stood stock-still in, and she fired both her guns. The men dropped simultaneously to the floor. The loud reports and Scout's barking were a complete onehundred-and-eighty-degree turn from the paralyzed silence holding Reb captive. Natalie darted forward. "We have to go, Porter. Now." She secured her guns, grabbed Reb by the arm and yanked him into a run beside her.

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Chapter 37 Reb's questions came fast as bullets. "You ... They came out of nowhere. You couldn't've seen 'em any better than I did. Yet ... you aimed so you hit both of 'em on opposite sides. How did you know they weren't just anybody? How could you tell they were coming for me before they dropped and we saw their guns?" "I'm trained to know, Reb. I can smell an enemy a mile away. We were followed." She was pulling him around the parking lot, ducking around cars. Scout was having a wonderful time. "And more are on the way. Come on." He couldn't stop reliving in his mind how he'd turned from the juice machine and faced across a thirty foot distance the barrels of Natalie's guns. A minute later, two guys had dropped dead. One bullet from each gun. He'd never seen anything like it before. He wanted to ask her again who she was and how it was possible for her not to be one of the top agents in her organization. Against his better judgment, he found himself intrigued by everything they'd gone through. By her skills. They rivaled his fear. Be damn lucky she's on your side. Otherwise you wouldn't have a shot in hell against her. And she's supposedly 'far from' the best. Yeah, I'd love to have half her skills. She didn't give him the chance to say more. She'd darted ahead again. After scanning the parking lot, she waved him and Scout to follow her. As they passed cars, he saw her reach into one of the many pockets in her vest. She extracted 201


something, and then knelt by the driver's door of a 2000 Chevy. She tried opening the door, but when she found it locked she brought the instrument she'd taken from her vest up. A second later, the driver's door opened. She handed him her backpack, making him juggle it with the bottles of juice he surprisingly hadn't dropped with the bodies back in the hotel. Knowing she'd somehow start the car without a key, he opened the back door and urged Scout inside. He heard the car start, the engine purring quietly. She turned to him. "The side pocket on the backpack—the long one. There's a steering lock disarmer." He stared at her stupidly. "Get me the damned tool!" He scrabbled in the pack and found an implement looking like a cross between a screwdriver and a compression drill. She snatched it from him, twisted it and suddenly it expanded to nearly two feet long. She jammed one end into the ignition lock and pushed violently, gasping as she hurt her arm. "Here," she said, tossing the tool at him, "Get in." He threw the pack and tool in the back with Scout and climbed into the driver's seat, shaking. They drove off into the night. He well remembered her saying she'd had every conceivable form of training, and he could easily believe it. So far, he hadn't seen her do a single thing without excelling at it. This lady could handle anything. Along with his awe, he experienced an emotion that overwhelmed him. What kind of a government agency trained 202


someone to be so capable in every situation? She cooked and cleaned well, played nursemaid well, she had sufficient medical skills to help her survive, she could walk through the woods without making a sound, she'd thoroughly convinced him she was someone he'd known most of his life, and she'd dropped two men with a calculated aim only one in a hundred or more could have achieved. Yeah, her specialty was definitely ordnance and combat. Those weren't the half of it. He remembered her considerable skills in seducing him ... satisfying him. What man would be worthy of her? He certainly couldn't claim himself. Who was she? What was her life like? Outside of her disclaimer that she enjoyed her job, she put her life in danger every day. She'd taken a bullet for him, and he wanted to know why. "I honestly didn't see anyone follow us here," he managed pathetically when they left the parking lot without lights. "You wouldn't have. These people are trained to be ghosts. It would've been a miracle if you'd picked up their trail." He glanced at her. But you'd have spotted them from a mile away if you'd been conscious. "What's the plan?" "We get lost. When it seems safe, I'll report in." "Where's your headquarters?" She glanced over at him in the darkness. Amazingly, after everything they'd been through tonight, she smiled at him.

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"Can't tell you that, Tiger. If I did, I'd have to kill you. I'd rather not do that, if you don't mind. I have too much invested in you." Just part of the mission? Reb wondered. He couldn't shake his own desperate need for her to make all this personal. Make a damn bullet personal. How much more personal could she get? She'd risked her life to save his multiples times. His throat felt like it might close up permanently at the realization that he could have lost her. Her death would have been on his already heavy head. Another death. Another woman he loved. Another woman he would have given anything to rescue and protect. But he had no way of doing that—then or now. "I should've trusted you," he muttered, not looking at her from the road even, sensing her gaze on him. "I'm sorry I didn't give you the evidence right away. Hindsight." "You had no reason to, Reb." "You would've given your life for me. At the cabin. The hotel." "Yes," she said simply, like it meant nothing. It meant everything to him. "Why?" "You know why." You love me. I love you. That should've been my first clue you weren't Adrienna. I didn't feel love for Adrienna. Ever. I fell for Natalie Francis, a woman I didn't know the first thing about, from the minute I laid eyes on her. Maybe I don't need to know more than what I already do.

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"Maybe you shouldn't've wasted your time. Jameson's on to me now. You think your team got the evidence before Jameson got there?" Her quiet bothered him. "I have no way of knowing until I check in." He knew what she meant. There was a chance Jameson had gotten to the evidence before her team did. And that really would mean she shouldn't have wasted her time saving him. He'd be a dead man in no time. Reb turned to her after another long pause, sensing there was more to come. She swallowed, then said, "We had to get you to safety, Reb, but I knew you wouldn't come with me without a strong incentive. I knew you didn't trust me enough to come without a fight. My team was supposed to surround the cabin, make you think Jameson had found you." She shook her head. "Something went wrong." "What do you mean? You planned that tonight? It was all a ruse to get me to leave with you?" "It was supposed to be. My team was supposed to get the evidence this afternoon. A couple hours after nightfall, they'd move in and simulate Jameson gunning for you. I sensed it wasn't my people before they closed in, but..." "Your team would've used blanks," he guessed, and she nodded, facing him. "I knew something wasn't right—didn't know what—but when I got hit, I knew it for sure it was the bad guys. I'm sorry, Reb. I didn't wanna deceive you again, but I knew Jameson was a step away. He would have been there sooner 205


or later. Sooner than I thought, I guess. Now we need to hole up somewhere I can safely contact my team. Then we can bring you in where you'll be protected, and Jameson won't be able to get to you." "Is there such a place?" he asked doubtfully. When she nodded, he knew there was. She'd never let anything happen to him. The truth that should have blinded him long ago filled him like holy light. It was so obvious, he felt like a fool to have missed it so completely. She'd come with a mission and ended up surrendering her heart to him. But, even above that wonder, Reb had realized the secret she hadn't wanted him to know—then or now.

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Chapter 38 "I just worked it out. You're not FBI. You work for the same organization that Jameson headed." His voice was soft yet penetrating in the confines of the car. Natalie glanced at him. It truly was a miracle he hadn't realized it before. He'd found out more on the Network than anyone else had ever been allowed to before he was detected. He'd also done it in a way that the Network hadn't realized until too late. That was unthinkable, considering how far-reaching their powers and influence were. Only because Jameson had been so intent on destroying the Network from the inside had Reb's investigation escaped notice. Until the radio program he and Raven had done, exposing the Network and its corrupt head, Giles Jameson. "No. I'm not FBI. I'm sorry I had to let you believe something else that wasn't true. Jameson was second-incommand until he defected a couple weeks ago and disabled us—luckily temporarily, and then tried to kill our first-incommand." She reached across the seat and put a hand on his arm. "I was serious when I said the consequences for telling you anything about the organization I work for are severe, Reb. For you and me." "The Network—isn't that what the insiders call it? What exactly is it?" "We're anonymous in the world. Criminal organizations know us by reputation, but only highest-level officials in the United States government truly know we exist. We defend 207


justice day and night, no vacations, no endless committees going back and forth with current moral and political values directing us. Justice is swift under us." She knew Reb had gathered more intel on the Network than Jameson should have allowed. Now the Network and Jameson wanted Reb's evidence. If any of it got out to the public, it could crush the Network's ability to exist anonymously. "Jameson went rogue and betrayed us. He wants your evidence so he can expose the Network—once he's deleted himself from all connection with it, of course. My mission has been to get the evidence before he does. The Network's alpha mission is to bring Jameson down before he causes the organization irrevocable damage. The best way to do that was to get to you." "You knew he'd come after me?" She nodded. "As well as you did. We knew he'd find you, given sufficient time. We were ready. Phase one is complete now. Hopefully my team did get the evidence. Now that Jameson's exposed himself, we should be able to bring him in. You'll be safe as soon as I contact my team and they can extract us." "What happens to you?" She shrugged. "It depends. I've done everything I was instructed to—short of having your evidence in my hands. But I need further instructions before I know if it's over or I have more to do.."

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"We're going to Chicago?" he guessed. "To your headquarters—the compound beneath the Expanding Technology Industries building?" "So you know ETI is a front for the Network? That's part of your evidence?" She could see why her superiors were desperate to retrieve it. They'd speculated that Reb had uncovered the location of their headquarters, but, until his evidence could be examined, no one knew specifically what it contained. Reb's expression was tight as he stared at the dark road. "Raven and I found out a lot we used in that radio-aired exposé. But there was a lot more I uncovered that I didn't even tell Raven. I'd planned to turn all the intel we gathered over to the media when Laura and Raven's son were killed. I knew we were being sent a message loud and clear from Jameson when those things happened. I couldn't tell Raven that neither tragedy was an accident. She was already grieving too much, and she would've blamed herself if she knew Ripley's death was a direct result of our investigation into the Network and its head." "I think she knows it now. The two of you can't blame yourselves. You were trying to right wrongs. Jameson only cares about himself and revenge." They'd been on road for awhile. They needed to swap cars. She instructed Reb to drive around a hotel until she found what she needed. She switched the license plates from the original car to a new one and vice versa in a few minutes, then she and Reb transferred their stuff to the new car. If she and Reb had any luck, it'd keep anyone off them for at least 209


twice as long until they got to Chicago and could ditch the car altogether. She knew she'd face trouble for all she'd told Reb already. Yet she sensed he was beginning to trust her—really trust her—and she needed him to. She sensed that her willingness to take a bullet for him had erased her betrayal in his heart. "What else do you know about the Network?" she asked once they'd given Scout a brief stretch and got on the road again. "I know of entrances and exits at ETI that most people wouldn't be able to find. I've got pictures of dozens of your operatives. Jameson. Another guy I believe is high-level. A woman who almost looks like a guy, her hair's so short and she's so tough-looking. Recorded conversations Jameson had with the mob. Videotaped meetings of him with known criminals." He glanced toward her. "There's one thing I can't figure out though." "What's that?" "Why Jameson wants to destroy the organization he's got so much power in. You said he plans to erase himself from my evidence. I don't get why." "Rumor is, he was recruited as a child without a choice. It happens that way sometimes. Someone sees something they shouldn't see, and our anonymity is in jeopardy. We function because we're not known. Jameson didn't like the join-or-die ultimatum. He's spent a lifetime waiting to take the Network down. It's why he worked so hard to get ultimate power. Easier to destroy something from the inside out when you're top dog." 210


Reb didn't look at her, and she wondered what he was thinking. Most of the time, those who'd given their lives to the organization willingly found the sacrifices that had to be made, and continued to be required, worth it. A civilian wouldn't understand their loyalty. "Who's Jameson's partner? The badass who came to my apartment with him?" "I assume you mean Roan Emory. He was one of our own, one of our best—Level 1—eight years ago. He was killed during a mission, or so everyone thought. A couple weeks ago, he appeared out of nowhere to one of our operatives. We've confirmed his death was a set-up, and he and Jameson are working together. They were the whole time. Once they had your evidence, Roan would have surrendered himself to the Network, sworn allegiance once more, all the while acting as a mole for the current-mobster, terrorist-wannabe, Terranzo." Natalie knew Reb and Raven's radio exposé had revealed the connection between the nameless Network and the mob because of Jameson's corruptness. "Together, they could feed valuable information to the mob, and they'd in turn be able to convince terrorist groups around the world to partner with them. All Jameson's ever wanted was to cripple the Network beyond repair. With Roan back on the inside, it'd take under a year to do just that. Emory's one of our best, but he was recruited against his will, too." "You weren't forced to join, were you?" She shook her head. "I wanted to. Ninety-eight percent of our operatives give their lives freely to serve justice. 211


Everybody has their own reasons for doing it. I understand it's hard for anyone to get this, especially if you've got something to live for." "What was your reason?" "My life was worthless. I didn't know what I was supposed to do with it. But I wanted to know my real dad. I found meaning, and a reason to live, with the Network." For the years she'd been with the Network, she'd never had any real trouble upholding the prime directive—keeping the Network from any exposure. Exposure led to consequences, most of them unpleasant. If her superiors found out she'd put together the last few pieces of the puzzle Reb had been constructing most of his life with his investigations ... She wasn't sure what would happen to either of them. She'd realized when everything went wrong back at the cabin that she didn't have the luxury of focusing on only the mission anymore. Not when she knew the Network had as much reason to kill Reb as Jameson did.

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Chapter 39 "I'm not gonna make it much longer," Reb said thickly as he hung on to the side of the car at an enormous truck stop in Janesville. They'd refueled, gone to the bathroom and loaded up on food. Scout had stretched his legs and followed the call of nature himself. Natalie closed the trunk and walked around to face him across the top of the car. "There's a campground a few minutes from here. We'll go there." He nodded and ducked inside the car with her. After tossing Scout some treats to chew on, she opened another bottle of orange juice so she could wash down more antibiotics and codeine. Reb could see she was even more tired than he was. She winced each time she shifted her arm. Exhaustion made her eyes red and bloodshot. He drove for a minute or two before she said, "Turn left here. You should see signs for the campground a few miles down the road." "How do you feel?" he asked. "Your arm." "After a couple hours' sleep, I'll be good as new," she said, obviously with more enthusiasm than he could muster at the moment. He'd drop like a ton of bricks soon. Ten minutes later, they were in the most isolated part of the campsite possible. "Are we sleeping in the car?" Reb asked. "And what'd you mean by honeymoon?" 213


She'd said that back at check-in. He opened the back door and let Scout out. "The campground owner thinks we're adventurous. Anyway, I knew we'd get more privacy if he thought we were on our honeymoon." "Bringing a dog on a camping honeymoon. That is adventurous." She laughed and slipped out of the passenger seat more lithely than he would have thought possible for her after such a traumatic series of events. She opened the rear door on her side and dug into her backpack, producing another weird little tool reminding him of a hot glue gun. She slipped the tip of it into the trunk lock and it produced a gentle whirring sound. The lid popped and she pulled out the tool, opened the trunk and peered inside, then laughed again. "Our unsuspecting benefactors who owned this car left us a present," she said, waving toward the open trunk. Reb moved around to look. She explained. "Everything we need for a proper camping trip." She pulled out an ill-packed tent. He saw sleeping bags, an air mattress, tarps, extra blankets, cooking necessities, fishing supplies. There was even an oversized cooler full of food and drinks. "Our luck," Reb said in amazement. "It is if you can set up a tent. One armed, I wouldn't be much good." He grinned. "I'm your man." 214


Finally, he felt like he could do something to help their situation. He didn't have her training, but he knew his way around a campsite. In a few minutes, he had the tent standing proud, the air mattress blown up with the convenient battery-powered air pump, and the sleeping gear inside the tent laid out. He found Natalie walking around the campsite, putting up what looked like gossamer threads of a spider web. She'd put it all around their site and across the road. "This stuff gonna warn us if somebody comes too close?" he asked. "Exactly." She showed him a wristband on her good arm that had a technical looking face—no clock. "If anybody breaches the web, it sends a soundless pulse here that I'd feel pretty much even if I was in a coma. It also pinpoints the area that was breached, so we'll know the opposite way to run." "Network creation?" "Yeah. Not for retail sale. I'll sleep better knowing we've got some back-up. Hopefully it doesn't rain and Scout doesn't get tangled in it." "What happens if it rains?" he asked, impressed with the equipment. "It could interfere with the signals I get. I wouldn't be able to tell if we're surrounded or it's just raining hard." Fortunately, the night was calm, clear, not too warm or cold. "Let's get some sleep. Come on, Scout," Reb called. 215


Once his dog entered the tent, Reb helped Natalie inside. She tucked her backpack on her side of the air mattress. Reb zipped them inside. Their 'unsuspecting benefactors' had provided an airtight shelter big enough to walk around in with minimal stooping. Scout settled himself onto the blanket Reb had laid out for him near one of the domes and put his head down on his paws. "We should check your arm," Reb said, seeing in the light of the lantern that Natalie had managed to sit down on the mattress. She'd drawn her guns out of her vest and put them within easy reach. "It's fine," she insisted. "I peeked at it in the truck stop bathroom. No bleeding. We can wait until morning. It'd help me a lot if you could take my boots off, though. Amazing what you can't do without both hands, isn't it?" Reb knelt by her and unlaced, then worked her boots off both feet. "Thanks," she said in a soft voice that brought his gaze to hers. "There was only one king-size air mattress," he said by way of explaining why he'd set both sleeping bags side by side on top of it. While it was a four-man tent, there wasn't a lot of room if either of them wanted to go off alone He didn't want to anyway. "I want you close," she said, like she wouldn't allow it any other way. He pondered what she'd said. 216


Her job? Or something more personal? At the truck stop, he'd been convinced he'd fall asleep at the wheel if they didn't stop and rest soon. Now he felt wide awake. Stupid to find the danger exciting. He didn't like the danger. It was being with Natalie that made the difference for him. When he'd been on his own, he'd hated every minute of it. Things were different with Natalie around. As inept as he was, he knew she wasn't thinking about anything but saving him. When he laid on the right side of the air mattress inside his sleeping bag, she flipped off the lantern. The mattress rolled like waves for a few seconds. He knew she faced him, only inches away. "What was it like all that time, Reb? Being alone and isolated on the run, and then holed up in that cabin for two years?" He understood she wanted to hear it from him, not imagine what it was like. "What you'd expect. I went crazy. Silent crazy. Between the unexplainable sickness that convinced me I couldn't run any more, and..." Surprising him, she shifted closer at his pause. "What, Reb?" "The loneliness." He'd never lacked for love or companionship his whole life. For the first time, he'd been alone, not a friend or a prayer to his name. He'd forgotten what it was like to be loved and cared for. He'd been starved for both when Natalie Francis showed up and rescued him. 217


"I was to the point where I considered suicide on a daily basis. Just to end it. End the silence. It seemed like the only way out." "You wouldn't have really done it, would you?" she asked, fear in her whisper. "I don't know. I only know you saved me, Natalie. In every way a person can be saved." In the quiet that followed, she sighed, and he wished he could see her face. "I'm sorry, Reb. I'm sorry how all this worked out. I'm sorry I had to deceive you so many times." He lifted his hand and brought it to where he knew her mouth was only inches away to stop the words he sensed were coming. "You were doing your job. I can accept that now. If you hadn't done it tonight, I'd be dead and my evidence would've fallen into the wrong hands. I feel like I wanna live. It's been a long time since I wanted to. You gave that back to me. I won't give my life up easily ever again." "Good," she murmured. He withdrew his hand, smiling. "Reb?" "Yeah?" "It wasn't just a job for me. You could never be just a job to me." He'd been afraid of rejection. Obvious now, but he hadn't wanted to admit he feared her rejection before. The surge of satisfaction that came with her confession worked through him fiercely. He'd craved her love, the love of 218


someone who hadn't been the person he assumed she was— thank God she wasn't. He'd fallen for Natalie so fast. He didn't deserve the unselfish love she gave him. But he wanted it. Her lips touched his, not unexpectedly, thanks to the air mattress. He was careful of her arm as they kissed and swayed. All he wanted to do was love her completely. This time, he knew he wouldn't regret it.

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Chapter 40 The sun had risen just enough for her to see Reb's peaceful expression in sleep. She figured it was almost five a.m. Sighing, she let herself believe she had him back. She had his trust. He'd spoken of love again last night. They'd made love without subterfuge. He knew everything and still wanted to be with her. She reached over and kissed the rough hair on his chin and around his jaw. She felt his smile as he woke. "We have to get an early start," she murmured when his hands planted hopefully under her shirt to find only toowilling flesh. "I'm enjoying my camping honeymoon too much to get up." Natalie giggled. "I think you're already up, Tiger. But we really do need to get going. This early, we can be assured no one will see us. We can even take a quick shower." "Together?" "You can help me stand in case I feel faint." "How's your arm?" he asked, immediately concerned at her mention of her injury. "Better. I'd be able to feel it if an infection was setting in. It's a little stiff, but I think it'll heal fast. I should put a new dressing on before we go though." "I'll help." They broke camp so they'd be ready for any potential trouble before driving up to the shower building. As she'd 220


hoped, they were alone for the moment. After taking what they needed from the trunk, they led Scout inside the building and locked him in with them. She swallowed more pills, then sat on a bench so Reb could check her wound. He swore when he saw it, cringing, but she had the opposite reaction. "See how good it's doing. There's no sign of infection and no bleeding. I'll try not to get it too wet in the shower." Reb helped her undress, and her temperature rose when she saw the hunger in his eyes as he looked at her in the half-light. "I don't get to see you enough," he murmured. They'd made love in the dark each time with little choice. But they both knew they didn't have time now. "Think you can start a fire where we camped and make up some breakfast?" she asked once Reb had re-dressed her wound and helped her into fresh clothing. She brushed her teeth, watching him dress. "No problem." "Good. Then I'll call my team." Reb got wood and unloaded the cooking equipment and food they needed while she set up for field communication. Reb kept glancing at her while he made them breakfast. She knew he was beginning to be fascinated by everything instead of repelled, as he'd been all the years he investigated the Network and Giles Jameson. He asked questions until she hushed him because Dez's face had appeared on the screen of her laptop. 221


Without preface she asked: "What's going on, Dez? Jameson's men were there at the cabin." "Yeah. We were ready for him. I requested another team before they moved in." "You knew they'd be there last night?" "Yeah. We knew." But he hadn't thought of letting her know it. "How?" Dez's face remained serious and somber. That bothered her. "Look, Nat, Jameson beat us to the punch." Reb met her gaze across the campfire. "The graves were all dug up when we got there. They'd been opened. The evidence, if it was ever there, was long gone." Reb had heard it as clearly as she had. Jameson had his evidence. All he had left to do last night was kill Reb. He wouldn't stop until he'd done just that. "You got Porter out alive?" Dez verified. "He's alive. I was hit, but not bad." She heard Reb's protest and held up her hand to shush him. "You need to bring him in right away," Dez said. "Give him a tracer caplet, take one yourself, and we'll pinpoint your location within the next couple hours." They'd be extracted easily in that time, yet she didn't feel the relief she wanted to. "What's the plan now?" The cold unwillingness in her leader's expression told her more than words would have. Something wasn't right. "Keep Porter alive until we can get you out. Take the tracers and 222


stay put. You'll be given further instructions once you're back at headquarters." Dez severed the connection from his end, and she did the same. "What's going on?" Reb asked. Natalie closed the laptop. For a minute she couldn't answer. If the Network was so eager to bring Reb in now, it could only mean one thing. They wanted to use him as bait to draw Jameson and Emory out. It was the evidence they wanted. Reb's life only had value to them until they secured the evidence and took the rogue operatives into custody. And at that moment she decided to do something she'd never before even considered. Above all else, she had to keep Reb safe. The only way to do that was to escape the Network. Man-oh-man, I truly want the impossible.

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Chapter 41 Things were bad, Reb knew. Jameson had the evidence in his possession. How much worse could it get? But he realized things were worse than they seemed because of all Natalie wasn't saying. In silence, they ate breakfast in under five minutes, and she had them all packed up and into the car five minutes after that. She told him to go west, not south toward Chicago, then asked him not to talk because she needed to think. He could see that whatever she planned, she wasn't ready to let him in on it. Crazy as it made him, he sensed she needed space right now. Everything was riding on her next step. He figured it was the least he owed her for saving his life. A couple hours later, she checked them into a rundown motel more concerned with profit than regular check-in times. She went out alone, saying she'd be back in under an hour. Though she left him a gun, he didn't feel confident in his skills to defend himself. His main worry was for her. It was dangerous for either of them to be out in the open. She'd decided her plan was worth the risk. Why? What if she didn't come back? His zilch for skills as a tracker and a soldier kept coming back to him. He'd gotten good at running and hiding. But even those skills had waned in his long stay at the cabin. The only other thing he'd ever done well was investigation. Scout seemed on edge, too, during the forty minutes they waited for her to return. Finally, she came in juggling a half 224


dozen bags in one hand. She kicked the door shut with her foot. "What's going on?" he asked in a tone he hoped conveyed he was on her side. "Remember back at the cabin when I said if you ran, I could find you easily?" She unloaded the contents of the bags in the middle of the bed. Scissors, hair dye. Clothes. He picked up a huge bottle of laxative—industrial strength by the look of it. "Yeah. You probably could, too." "Here's why, Reb: I gave you a tracer caplet with the ibuprofen yesterday. It's something the Network created. There's a homing beacon in the caplet. It has to attach itself to the lining of your large intestine before it can be activated. It usually takes twenty-four to forty-eight hours to work. I don't know exactly what's involved, but it's supposed to stay attached through a half dozen bowel movements. You haven't had one of those since I gave it to you, have you?" A little embarrassed by her no-nonsense attitude, he shook his head. "Then you haven't done anything to flush it out. We need to get the tracer out of you. You'll need to drink a glass of this every fifteen minutes until it's gone. Use the flavor packet to make it taste better." He glanced at the gallon of laxative again. "Sounds pleasant." "It won't be. I'm sorry. But we need to get going right away." 225


Reb turned her toward him. "I don't know what's going on here. I thought the plan was that we're supposed to go to your headquarters in Chicago. I thought we wanted your Network guys to pick us up. Why are we going in the opposite direction of that now? I heard what your team leader said. I don't think I understood the implications of it the way you seem to." She broke open the laxative seal. "Look, all Jameson needs now is to get you in his claws, administer his pet truth serum, and he'll be able to find out beyond a shadow of a doubt if you made any other copies of your evidence. If he needs to retrieve and destroy anything else, he can do that. And he can safely kill you because he won't need you anymore. The Network needs both you and your evidence for the same reasons Jameson does. But they need bait if they're gonna get the evidence from him." Reb wasn't a rocket scientist, but he knew what she implied. "I'm the bait." "You're the bait. I can't let them do it, not without knowing for sure what they intend to do with you once they have the evidence along with Jameson and Emory." He swallowed the uncertainty filling his throat. "So what's this stuff, as if I don't already know?" She handed him a plastic cup of the stuff. "This nasty liquid will flush out your intestines completely in about four hours. I'm sorry in advance." "So am I," he said on a grimace. "Bottoms up." 226


He drank it, fighting the urge to gag on the bitter kool-aid taste. When the cup was empty, he set it down. She was going through the stuff she'd bought. "Why are you doing this, Natalie? Won't you get in trouble with your superiors?" She didn't glance back at him and didn't answer. He eased her around once more and lifted her chin. "I can't let you take another risk for me, honey. I promised myself after Laura died and Raven lost the will to live without her son that I'd never be the cause of another woman's pain. Let's not even get into the stuff with Adrienna." "You've got a bounty on your head, Porter," she said with determination, "The past doesn't matter. All that matters is that I love you, and I'm not willing to let anyone collect on that bounty. Not while I have breath in my body." He could have repeated the exact thing back to her. He wouldn't let anyone hurt her. He'd learn. He'd do everything he could to get the skills she had so he could protect them both, too. As long as they were together, they'd be all right. "Will your superiors kill us if they find us?" He expected her to say 'no', or 'maybe.' She smiled confidently instead. "They trained me to be the best. They won't find us. Not when I get done." Her bravado didn't ring true or inspire him with more than trust in her abilities. When she was ready, he knew she'd tell him the rest of her plan.

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Chapter 42 After three hours of being on the hopper more than he was off, Natalie wondered if Reb regretted the day he entrusted his fate to her. With too much she needed to accomplish in a short time, she could only feel bad for him and hope no more than the caplet and his natural human waste detached itself from his insides. She dyed her hair red and cut it to half the length it'd been. It wasn't a botch job. She'd been trained to make a dye look natural and she'd taken a cosmetology class in her first year. A good, convincing disguise was essential for all operatives. Reb went wide-eyed upon seeing her during a few minutes of respite from the toilet. The next time he came out, she told him she needed to dye his hair, too, but she'd start by cutting it. She'd almost finished before another impending intestinal requirement overwhelmed him. By the end of four hours—the maximum period she estimated they'd be safe in the hotel, they'd both had haircuts and she'd dyed his hair blond. He shaved the ragged growth of beard off his face. He'd managed to shower without have to leap back on the toilet halfway through it. "It's not the worst I've seen," she managed when he stepped out. Still, she'd miss his shoulder-length, silky black hair. "It'll take some getting used to," he agreed.

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"Think you can leave your chained position on the hopper for a decent stretch now?" she asked. It'd been almost twenty-five minutes since he'd done a runner. "Long as you're willing to make some spur-of-the-moment pit stops." "We'll have to move on. It's not safe here anymore." She could see the tension in his face. It convinced her not to add that the only reason the Network hadn't already found them had to be because they couldn't get a good signal with all the activity in Reb's intestines. Hopefully the tracer had been flushed, and, when the Network came for them, all they'd find was an smelly, empty hotel room. She'd already packed. They led Scout out to a new vehicle she'd secured for them—one she bought from a private citizen with cash. Behind the wheel, she spent the first fifteen minutes of getting back on the road making sure they weren't followed. That was when Reb noticed out loud that they were going south again. "If they were able to home in on the tracer's signal, it'll lead them to that hotel room," Natalie told him. "The one place they won't expect me to take you is Chicago." "We're hiding out in Chicago?" Glancing at him, she saw his confusion. "Not for long. There's only one person I can trust now. He'll be able to tell me the mindset of our superiors. Then I can plan. I know of an abandoned apartment building we can hole up in." "Outside the Network?" She nodded. 229


A few minutes later, he said, "I'm amazed at the extent this organization—you—went to to fool me into thinking you were Adrienna. Even your childhoods are similar. Her parents divorced early, and her mom went from one guy to the next." "Yeah. Worked well with the subject's background— another reason I think my superiors chose me." Natalie reached over to touch his hand. "I can't imagine what it's like to lose someone you love. I walked away from my mom five years ago, and ... Does it make me a bad person that I've never looked back since? I can't imagine losing someone I actually care about. I wouldn't know how to talk about it, or how to grieve. Who helped you?" "I've spent my life chasing the wind," Reb said on a shrug. "All those years trying to track down my dad's killer. Nothing else mattered until I saw what my need for revenge did to destroy so many other lives. There's no one and nothing that can comfort you, especially when you believe you're to blame." She was quick to retort, "You act like you did the evil. You didn't kill your father. You didn't kill Raven's son or your wife. You didn't ask Adrienna to fall for you the way she did, beyond sanity. All of it was beyond your control." Natalie swallowed with difficulty, tears in her eyes. "You did the hard thing—the thing most people wouldn't have done. Doing the right thing is hard. It requires risks and exacts consequences. That's why I think you and I are so alike. I do the same thing with my job, and sometimes I wonder if it's wrong. But then I remind myself that doing the 230


right think is gonna be hard. It won't always work out as neatly as it should." She glanced at him. "Blame Jameson, Reb. Most of it was his fault. Think about what your life would have been like if you hadn't pursued it. Could you have just gone on with your life after you saw your father murdered? Could you live with yourself if Jameson got away with it all? There are no easy answers, but at the end of the day you have to respect yourself." "I'm not sure I even have that. But you're right. Anything I did, I would've ended up screwed." "Recriminations won't right the wrongs either. But we'll get all this straightened out in the end." Or we'll be on the run for the rest of our lives. He smiled, barely a ghost to cover the sorrow in his eyes. "I almost believe it's possible when you say it, honey." She knew he wanted to change the subject when he asked about her day-to-day life in the Network. She told him about the training and missions that filled her life without describing specific events he'd probably recognize if she went back further than the two years he'd been in hiding. "What about your job, Reb? Did it fulfill you?" He shrugged. "It was a vengeance. I knew I had to do it, couldn't stop myself from doing it. Investigating and analyzing the facts ... it's what I'm good at. It's what's made me me." She smiled at him. "See? We're not so different."

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Chapter 43 While Scout didn't seem thrilled with their new accommodations, Reb knew he was glad to be out of the cramped backseat and away from the constant motion of the car. He was getting pretty carsick himself. "What is this place?" he asked. They were in Chicago. Natalie knew exactly where she was going when she brought them to this abandoned apartment building, in what could only be a bad part of the city. "I grew up here," she said, telling him what he'd expected, "It looks as bad now as it did when we lived here. The owner finally got his just due and the health department shut the place down." They each carried multiple bags inside the building. Her arm didn't seem to be bothering her at all anymore, even though she hadn't taken any painkillers last time she popped the antibiotics. The scurry of rats and roaches seemed to magnify the hollowness of their footsteps echoing off the thin walls. She led them to the second floor, bypassing the elevator when he waved toward it, saying simply, "Never worked." He shone the lantern while she picked the door lock of one of the apartments. Instinctively, he reached for the light switch when they went in, and he was surprised when lights actually came on. "You can leave this one on," Natalie said, "It's not near any windows. But don't turn any of the bedroom or bathroom lights on." 232


The idea of being in a vermin-infested building without lights didn't sound like much of a party. "How long we gonna be here?" he asked, running a finger through the thick layer of dust on the Formica table. "Hopefully not long." "You can say that again." "I need to set up perimeter alarms." She tore the watchband from her wrist and wrapped the Velcro around his. "Where are you going?" "Once I have the perimeter up, I'm going out—I have to. I can't take you where I'm going." His first thought was to argue with her, but he knew intellectually he couldn't go where she needed to go. She'd go to her father, he understood, the only person she trusted to not alert their superiors. She'd go to the one place he absolutely couldn't follow her. "Why don't you try to get some sleep," she suggested. "Put the lantern on the nightstand near the floor in one of the bedrooms. That should get rid of any visitors that've been in residence here for so many generations." She smiled slightly, but he couldn't. "You can't leave here for any reason, Reb, unless I don't return in twenty-four hours. If all goes well, I should be back in under two." She dug into her pack and handed him a gun. "I know you're not gonna like this either, Tiger, but I need to take Scout with me. I'm gonna put him somewhere safe, where you might be able to get him back if you want to later. He's complicating things for us. You'll have the perimeter alarms to 233


alert you to an intruder. You'll know it's me when I get back because I'll press the buzzer in the front entryway of the building three times long, three times short. When I go downstairs in a few minutes, I'll press it and you answer so we know the buzzer still works. If it doesn't, we'll work something else out." "Where will you take Scout?" "There's a humane society not far from here." He nodded, feeling useless, before he pulled her into his arms. "I love you. You be careful." "You, too. Everything'll be okay. I love you." She squeezed him hard with her good arm, then shouldered her backpack. She picked up the walking lead, and Scout went to her in an instant, allowing her to put it on him. Two minutes later, the intercom buzzed and Reb pushed the response button. "It works," he told her. "Good. Here's my signal." Three long buzzes followed three short. Then silence. He didn't like the silence. After looking around, hating the sense of having no purpose at all because it meant she was chancing a walk into the lion's den, he went to the bedrooms and found the one he thought might have been hers. Most of the posters of heavy metal bands had fallen off the wall and the color scheme was done in all black. He expected to lay on the bed and worry or think about rats and roaches walking over him. About Natalie not coming back. Waiting for her, knowing he wouldn't be able to get to her ever again if she didn't come back. But he closed his 234


eyes, realized how tired he was, and his mind blissfully shut off.

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Chapter 44 When she used her security access card to get inside the building with Scout, ETI emergency lights assured her she wouldn't have an audience. She hadn't wanted to tell Reb the truth—she wanted better for Scout than dropping him off at a dog pound. But she wasn't sure Reb would agree turning Scout into a highly trained canine for Network use would be for the best. Earlier, with a tranquilizer gun, she'd shot the dog with a temporary transponder chip that would allow him into the building without setting off Network alarms. She'd been given the chip at mission beginning—it was intended for bringing Reb in. She took the path leading away from the heavily-secured elevators that would take her down to the compound, if that was where she wanted to go. She didn't. She slid through a door marked 'Employees Only.' After sliding her card into the skyscraper security system that led to the apartments above ETI, kept by key personnel, Natalie stepped into the elevator. She keyed in her father's identification number. She made no noise whatsoever as she moved down the hall to her father's private suite. The dog plodded silently at her side. In addition to shooting Scout with the chip, she'd given him another bark-suppressing pill. While Natalie hadn't yet passed rank to get clearance for an apartment outside the compound, she frequently spent the night in her father's guest bedroom. It beat using her 236


seriously-lacking-in-privacy bunk in Level 6 quarters on the bottom floor of the compound. She let herself in, whispering to Scout to stay where she left him near the door. The apartment was dark, which surprised her a little. Her father was usually awake at this time. His mind didn't shut off easily either. In his bedroom, she reached for his lamp. A hand clamped down on her wrist. Then the light went on. He didn't seem surprised to see her. She could see the prolonged worry he'd been through recently. "Where the hell have you been, Nat?" he demanded, glancing at her other arm wrapped in bandage. He let go of her wrist, and she sat down on the bed. Her father appeared nowhere near his fifty-three years, even at this time of night. His hair hadn't grayed yet. He was strong and youthful-looking, and even some of the younger female recruits had crushes on him. From the first time she'd officially met him as her father, she'd been convinced he would live forever. It was exactly what she wanted. He didn't wait for an answer, simply began talking about the situation. "They couldn't lock on to the caplet signal reliably. They think you ran with the subject," he told her. The subject? Natalie couldn't remember ever being able to refer to Reb so callously, especially now. "I know they wanna use him as bait, Daddy, and once they get what they want, they won't care if he lives or dies."

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Her father sat up, sweeping the covers back. His eyes were intense the way they always were when he was about to lecture. His feet hit the carpet as he sat next to her. "You don't know that's what they're planning. You can't outthink them." He put his hands on his knees, turning to look at her. "They do need him. You understand how precarious we are now, doll? Everything we're facing could topple the Network. You don't want that, do you? I thought you were happy here." "I am, but ... I love him." Her father was the only person in the world she could trust. She couldn't have told anyone else the truth. He'd always been there for her. Even when she was a little girl, she'd never doubted he was looking out for her. His loyalty to the Network remained without question, yet she knew he'd never betray her if it wasn't in her best interests. In a small voice, she added, "I can't let him die." She didn't like the expression in his clear ebony eyes. He knew a lot. Yet he couldn't tell her everything she needed to know. He took her hand gently. "You're worried they'll leave Porter for dead once they get what they want. That can't be your concern." "It is! Can you honestly tell me it isn't something they'd consider? I know they would. Remember how they sent Kirsten and Ash on a suicide mission they didn't expect them to return from a few weeks ago? And they're Level 3 ops! They're more valuable than most of the recruits put together. And the only reason our superiors did that is because they 238


found out Kirsten and Ash are in love. If they know I have feelings for Reb—and they probably already know because Dez told them—that'll be even more incentive for them to let Reb go down instead of protecting him." Her father sighed, his expression heavy with weariness. "When they couldn't lock on to the caplet signal and you didn't check in, they compared this to your previous record and assumed the same thing happened—you fell for the subject and your judgment was compromised. You can't escape them, Nat." He stood and went to lean against the shaded, bullet-proof window. "What are you gonna do this time, doll? If you save him, you know you can't have a relationship with him. It's not possible in this place, especially with Shannon McKee in the perch now. She'll put a bullet in your brain before she allows that to happen again. Divided loyalties make ineffective operatives. How often have you heard that since you joined?" It'd been branded into her skull. "Even if I can never be with Reb again, I need to know he's alive somewhere in the world. This is the only way for him to be free." The way her father shook his head, staring at her so sympathetically, made her almost crazy. He tried reasoning. "You can't do it, Nat. What you're attempting is just stupid. You can't save him. You'll be lucky to save yourself at this point. You need to focus on the mission. The rest is out of your hands." Natalie suddenly found herself staring at her father as though he was a different person. No, she couldn't buy that. 239


Wouldn't accept it. No way would she march Reb into the compound and give him up to her superiors knowing what she did of them. "It's too late, Daddy. I need your help. Will you help me?" He'd turned away from her, yet she could hear the wavering in his voice when he asked her what she wanted him to do. "Tell me what's going on. I know something's happened." She knew he didn't like betraying the organization. Nevertheless, he offered her a bone. "What do you think happened, doll? Jameson's going after Porter's son. They found out Adrienna Kelly and Reb Porter had a son together, and she gave the kid up for adoption long ago. Jameson knows everything we know." That much she could guess. With his years of training, Jameson could find out what only the Network had the resources to discover. Being on the outside wouldn't prevent him from it. Natalie began to answer her own question and her father's. "Dez lied," she replied, as she realized what her father intended her to with his few words, "He lied because he was acting on orders. Jameson didn't get Reb's evidence. He intends to use Diego as collateral to get the evidence." She could see in her father's silence that she'd guessed correctly. "But why would they ask Dez to lie about getting it first?" "You know why, Nat." And it wasn't hard to figure it out. If Dez had told her the truth, she would have worked out Jameson's plan to go after 240


Diego to get the evidence back. When he found out, no one could have convinced Reb to be taken into custody instead of racing to protect his son. But, with the evidence, her superiors didn't need Reb. They'd chalk up Diego's kidnapping and death as collateral damage. Their alpha mission was a success. Her mind raced. So what do they want from Reb now? To administer truth serum just as Jameson would have to make sure Reb hasn't made any other copies of his evidence? She shook the thoughts off. "I need a sat phone. I need a signal jammer. I need some gymnast equipment." For an instant, she thought her father would refuse. Then he nodded. "Did the Network outfit Diego with a transponder?" she asked He nodded again. "As soon as they discovered his existence, a month ago. They had a hunch Jameson would discover him, too." Natalie didn't need to wonder why her superiors had done that either. If they lost Reb and the evidence, they would use an innocent child to get what they needed. "Then I also need Diego's signal pattern locked into a tracer." "If they find out I helped you, we'll put be put in abeyance," he muttered. Her father had served the Network for so long and with such loyalty, she was hoping his unblemished years would 241


save him if the worse happened. Even if it didn't ... she couldn't abandon Reb. "I'm sorry, Daddy." He looked at her, put a hand on her shoulder, nodded. Natalie introduced him to Scout, and he agreed to take the dog down to the compound where he'd be properly trained for service. Natalie couldn't say why he did any of the things she asked when he clearly didn't want to. But a part of her accepted he did it for her. Out of love. The very same reason motivating her.

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Chapter 45 Reb verified that Natalie had been gone for hours when he woke to dead silence in the apartment. Stupid as it was, he searched for her anyway, telling himself the whole time that she couldn't have even entered the building without him knowing it. He didn't believe it for a second though. If anybody could appear and disappear without a sound, it was her. He glanced at the wristband she'd put on him. She'd put the perimeter up—she could get it down without alerting him. He knew next to nothing about her organization's technology or skills, despite all his years investigating it. The intercom near the door went off abruptly, jolting him from the windows he'd been going back and forth between. Three long, three short buzzes. "You okay?" he demanded when he jammed his finger to the button. "Everything's fine," she told him through the intercom. "I'll be up in a few minutes." He opened the apartment door and went out so he could see her when she emerged from the stairwell. "Did you sleep?" she asked as she walked up to him, toting a backpack twice the size of her original one. "Yeah," he admitted, feeling like he'd failed her with his inability to do anything to help them. Maybe if I'd had training like she has, so many people I loved wouldn't have died. "Good. You'll need to be rested. We have to go now. Grab the backpack." 243


She turned and started back toward the stairs. He shouldered the bag and followed, asking what was going on, where Scout was. "He's safe. Don't worry about him." Natalie indicated a new and different car. Once they were inside. she told him to drive and surprised him with her answer when he asked, 'Where to?' "The airport. Unfortunately, it's the fastest way." "To where?" "New York." "Your old man is sending us to New York to hide out?" Something about her face was too tight—as if she held something inside that she desperately wanted to let out. Or didn't want to. "What's going on, babe? Tell me." He could see she'd been dreading that question from him. She took a deep breath that clearly didn't relieve her. Her features worked overtime to prevent emotion from escaping. "I don't wanna tell you this, Reb, but Jameson is going after your son." "What?" Reb demanded. It made no sense. He could barely make himself believe what she'd said. "He's got the evidence. How could he even know about Diego?" But she'd known about Diego—her organization had. When he thought she was Adrienna, he'd asked her about their son, and Adrienna/Natalie hadn't shown a hint of surprise or confusion about Diego's existence. How could anyone know Diego was his son? Only four people in the world knew—him, 244


Adrienna, and Diego's adopted parents. Even Diego didn't know it. So how had the Network found out? "Reb, there's very little we can't uncover or piece together. And, if we know, Jameson could discover it just as easily." Reb realized his hands were shaking on the steering wheel. "Why would he want Diego?" "Because Jameson doesn't have the evidence like Dez claimed. I'm still trying to figure the whole thing out, but I promise you both the Network and Jameson believe you made a copy of your evidence. Jameson will use Diego to get the original and any copy." Maybe it made him a fool, but the thought of keeping a single copy hidden had been a struggle for Reb. Making a copy would have upped his hardship, so he ultimately decided not to bother. Let fate work it out with the one copy. If he lost it, he figured maybe it was meant to be that way. While it was against a life-long philosophy he'd held as an investigative reporter, he'd realized that life was over for him long ago. Life on the run and then in hiding had changed everything he'd ever believed in, until nothing was left but pure desperation. "I don't have another copy, Natalie. There's nothing but the original. And you already said the Network has that. Would they be willing to give it up to save Diego?" She reached down to the backpack between her legs on the floor. A moment after she dug through the front pocket, she extracted a small disk. "The Network compiled your evidence and saved it all on this," she told him. 245


He frowned at it. "But..." "I knew something was wrong from the start," she interrupted him. "I knew it when I got shot. I assumed at first it was Jameson, not my team, and Dez confirmed it when he told me Jameson got to your evidence first. Dez wanted me to believe that, but I couldn't figure out why. I told him the evidence was in one of the graves in the south quadrant of the woods. It would've taken them under an hour to retrieve it. He would have gotten the team on site within minutes after I told him where to look. The team would have been long gone before Jameson showed up since he came after you at nightfall. "When we were running from the cabin, I heard one of the men shout not to shoot you because you were needed alive. If Jameson had the evidence already, he wouldn't've needed you. He would've wanted you dead. "At first, I thought the reasons my superiors didn't bring us in meant they couldn't find us. We got rid of your tracker, after all. But that would mean the rumor I'd been hearing since I joined the Network wasn't true. The rumor is that all operatives have a transponder surgically implanted upon recruitment. My superiors can't risk losing anyone, especially to an enemy. My dad verified the rumor was true tonight. They can find me anywhere in the world, easily. The only problem for them would've been if you and I got separated. "So why weren't they bringing us in if they could find me? I thought maybe it was because they didn't need you, because they already had the evidence. I know they always act in the organization's best interests. So they had the 246


evidence and didn't care to expend any more resources on extracting you. But I should've been called back in. They've invested a lot of training in me. I realized tonight after talking to my dad that they've been one step ahead of us from the start." "I don't get it," Reb insisted. "They knew I'd fall in love with you, Reb. They knew it from the very start when they elevated me to this mission. My training doesn't warrant a mission this high-level. They had no reason to give it to me ... unless it was to their advantage. Yeah, I looked like Adrienna, and a few enhancements and adjustments made that an even closer resemblance. But they were aware that if they set up the game play the way they did, I'd fall for you and wouldn't bring you in because I wouldn't be willing to trust them to protect you. They were counting on me doing exactly what I did. They knew me better than I know myself. So they ordered Dez to tell me Jameson had the evidence and led me to think they'd use you as bait if I brought you in. They know now that we'll go after Diego, and that's exactly what they want." A car overtook them, lights flashing, horn blaring, the driver obviously angry. Reb realized he'd slowed the car dramatically as he became lost in thought over Natalie's words. He pushed on the accelerator harder, getting back to the speed limit. "I still don't get what they really want from us." She glanced at him. "They knew I'd get the evidence, or at least locate it. I did. They wanted it, and they have it. But 247


they also want Jameson and Emory. They want us to go after them to protect Diego. Jameson knows my record as well as the Network does. He'll have no trouble believing I fell for another subject, and now I've gone rogue again to help you. He personally put me in abeyance for my last slip. If my dad hadn't pleaded my case, I'd probably be dead now. It won't take any stretch at all for Jameson to believe that I'm compromised again." Reb let out the uptight breath he'd held while listening to her. "So once we swap the evidence for Diego, the Network will move in?" "Right. But they'll stay far enough away so Jameson won't suspect their presence. So he'll believe I'm working on my own. Now I'm a step ahead of them though." "How?" "This disk." She wiggled it in her fingers. "My dad gave me this, and I made a copy of it. I set it up so the copy would be sent to your friend Rusty if I don't make a phone call in fortyeight hours. If anything happens to you or Diego, Rusty will release the evidence to the news media." She smiled in a satisfied way that had the opposite affect on him than she intended. All he could see was that she intended to destroy her life and her career for him. "I've purchased the bounty on your head, Reb. When all this is over, you'll be free. But first we have to find Diego. According to the latest intel, Jameson hasn't gotten hold of him yet. Maybe we'll beat him." The thought of his son falling into Jameson's filthy hands made Reb insane. He couldn't allow Jameson to take another 248


innocent life just to get back at him. And he didn't want to imagine the price Natalie would have to pay for her part in helping him. How could he allow any of this? But what other choice did he have but to let her use her considerable skills—ones he didn't have—to help him save his son?

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Chapter 46 A hand on her neck woke her from her nightmare. She turned to Reb in the driver's seat of the car she'd rented with false ID at the airport. "You okay, honey?" he asked, massaging her neck reassuringly. She nodded, trying to shake the screams that still felt too close. "Did you have the nightmare again?" His gentle tone prevented her from lying or hedging to avoid talking about it. "When I woke up in the garbage, I saw my father there for the first time. He took me home and told me he'd always be there for me if I ever needed him. I didn't see him again until I was recruited. Then I knew he was the one who took me home that night when I was five. He said he'd watched me from afar all my life, since he discovered my mom was pregnant with me." She hated the tears that came, but Reb's comfort made it okay the way it'd never been for her before. "The Network saved you," he said in a soft voice that belied the irony of truth. "Yes." "Yet you're willing to give it all up. I don't think I'll ever understand why, honey." "For a ray of hope." The same one she'd had when her father rescued her from the horror of that evil man who chased and then hurt her. When he saved her from meaninglessness five years ago. 250


"I've done everything for the ray of hope that I can love someone and be loved back," she murmured. "How could anyone not love you, Natalie? I know what your mother's selfishness did to you, but I was drawn to you even when I thought you were one person I could never love." Brokenly, she smiled, leaned over and brushed her head against his shoulder.

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Chapter 47 Only a block from Diego's home, they ate a drive-through breakfast. They kept a close watch on Diego's tracker signal, as well as any activity on the street and in the house. "He's still safe at home, Reb. What do you wanna do? Would his parents recognize who you are if we knocked on their door?" "I doubt it. Not without me telling them my identity as Diego's biological father." "Do you wanna do that?" He laughed without humor. "Do I have to?" She understood he didn't want to shake up his son's oncesafe world. "If it means protecting him, you'll have to. Or we can wait here and move in only when we see Jameson's men." She could see how anxious he was. He didn't want to do anything that might hurt his son—including revealing the truth. Jameson had already killed Reb's father. She doubted he could withstand the blow of Jameson taking his son from him, too. "When's the last time you saw your son?" she asked. He shook his head, and she bled for him when he took out the old baby picture. Only after he'd stared at it for a long time did he admit, "The one picture she gave me when she told me about him. I've never met my son. This is all I've ever had." 252


Her indignation over Adrienna's insanity didn't show through when she put her arms around him, telling him how sorry she was. "I should have brought the current picture of him from the Network, so you could see him now and recognize him. I don't know why I didn't think to." His teeth clenched. "How do we know he's safe? How do we know Jameson hasn't already been here and now he's got Diego tied up somewhere, along with his parents?" "The only way we can know for sure is to knock on the door and find out. Are you ready for that?" A look of determination hardened his features. "I guess it's better than staying out here all day, speculating." She nodded. She put on a shoulder holster over her longsleeved turtleneck. As she climbed out of the car, she slipped a light jacket over it. Reb pressed the doorbell after a pause while Natalie glanced around. When no response came, he followed it with a knock. Silence from inside the house made Natalie duck around the rear of the building and peer into the garage window. Two cars were parked inside. She'd seen lights at the back of the house when they drove around the block earlier. No one had come and gone in that time. So why did no one respond to their summons? Natalie reached into her pocket for her lockpicker when she went back to Reb. The lock clicked, and she pushed the front door open. "Stay behind me," she whispered. 253


Reb still had the tracker monitor, but nothing had happened to alert them to a change in Diego's location. "Hello?" she called as she walked down the front hall. All her instincts had gone code red. She didn't want to face it, but she suspected Jameson had come and gone long ago. If he'd never been at Reb's cabin in the first place, the way she suspected, he could have come here anytime in the last fortyeight hours—after Network intel deemed Diego safe. Strange noises led her to a bedroom. She pushed open the door and stood back from the line of potential fire. Muffled noises continued frantically. Natalie ducked in to see two people tied up and gagged on the bed. She rushed to the woman and pulled off her gag. "We're FBI agents, tracking a serial kidnapper. Was your son taken?" she demanded while Reb freed the man. "Yes. Yes!" the woman sobbed. "How many were there?" "One man." "Can you describe the abductor?" The woman swallowed. "Tall. Very tall and muscular. He had a ... a mask over his face." The husband nodded his agreement. "Did the man say anything?" "No," the husband offered. "Nothing. He tied us up and he took our son..." "...without a word," the woman continued. "No instructions. No idea when we might hear their terms." Natalie wasn't surprised about that. A Network operative, even a former one, would work quickly and efficiently, most 254


times without a word being spoken. He'd use a gun to make his non-negotiable instructions clear. Natalie was sure the man in this case had been Roan Emory. He wouldn't bother offering hope for getting Diego back. Natalie helped the woman sit up, smoothing her purple skirt down. That was when she saw the envelope on the nightstand across from the bed. She rushed to it and tore it open. Inside were Diego's transponder chip and a phone number written on the back of the envelope. Emory had removed the locater, leaving it exactly where Diego should have been. The only way to get to Diego would be to contact Jameson by phone. Natalie didn't have any doubt the Network had somehow expected all of it. After untying Diego's mother fully, Natalie told them someone from the Bureau would be in touch but to call the local police until then. "What do we do now?" Reb asked on the way back to the car. "We call Jameson, and then get set up." "They'll hurt him." Natalie squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Not when they know so much is riding on this. I know you're not going to like this, Reb, but I need to do this on my own. I wanna call the Network to extract you." She didn't like the idea any more than she knew he would, but, given the two options, he'd be safer at the compound. He shook his head instantly. "No way. I'm not running away from this or letting you do it yourself. You're still hurt. We do this together. I promise I won't be too much of a 255


hindrance to you. I'll be ready for anything. Now, do you have a plan?" She nodded grimly. "Getting Jameson to agree to my terms. He won't have much choice. He'll believe what we have is more valuable than what he has. Jameson always underestimates the value of a life." She glanced at him. "Do you think you can trust me, Reb?" "With my life." "And you know I'd never let anything happen to you or your son?" The disturbed expression on his face told her he understood the seriousness of the situation they were facing. "I know it, honey." "Then don't forget that. No matter what I do that seems contrary to that."

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Chapter 48 "After all the time I spent distrusting this organization, I have to admit I'm in awe of it now. Because of you," Reb spoke while they sat in an internet café. She'd been studying a realty rag she'd picked up in the place. Natalie had set up her laptop a few minutes after arriving. He'd watched her work with the microdisk and still looked on as she scanned the few available apartments in the city. She looked at him. "What do you mean?" "I don't have a clue what's going on beyond that by doing what you're doing you'll save my son and me." "Let's hope." She found the payphone and dialed the realtor listed in one of the many ads she'd circled, expecting to have to work hard to get what she wanted. She called four realtors to ask, 'Is this penthouse suite still vacated?' None of them responded in the way she wanted. Finally, one realtor—a man—said, "Yes. It's empty. Is this Ms. Carroll speaking?" Natalie paused only for a moment. Better than I expected. "Yes. I'm glad to hear it's still vacant. The..." she glanced down at the photo of the Great Room in the penthouse suite for sale, "...chandelier ... in particular caught my eye. Will you be showing it to anyone else?" "I do have several appointments today," the realtor said, playing his game well. 257


"Cancel them. I'll be in town tomorrow, and I'll pay you double the asking price if you're willing to hold it for me that long." She plainly heard the mixture of excitement and greed in his voice. "Yes! Yes, of course I will, Ms. Carroll. When can I expect you?" "I'll call you when I arrive." Natalie hung up and went back to the table. "Are you ready to make contact?" she asked Reb. He laughed and lifted his shoulders as if he didn't see his own part in her plan. "Whenever you are." She smiled, and he looked confused. She knew that soon, it would all be clear to him. The one thing the Network hadn't needed to teach her was how to be resourceful. Most of her life, she'd learned how to spot opportunities—usually shady ones—even from afar, how to develop and cultivate them until the odds of success lined up in her favor. She produced sat phone and signal jammer her father had provided and connected them, then dialed the number from the transponder envelope. As she expected, there was no delay. She recognized Jameson's voice when he answered on the first ring, and she uttered just four words: "You have Reb's son." "You have the evidence I want." "Yes." "How can I be sure?" 258


"I've extracted a sample of the disk I copied from the Network's master. What's your e-mail address?" He gave her one from a free online service, and she typed it into the e-mail letter she had ready to transmit with the sample attached. She knew it didn't pay to search out his identity in the minute she waited after sending it. He'd delete the account from different computer as soon as he received her note and saved the file onto his hard drive. She also hadn't bothered to attach a Trojan to the e-mail in an effort to locate his computer. Their meeting would be face to face. "It's here," Jameson verified. "All right, is Mr. Porter with you?" "You already know that answer. Let us talk to Diego." She heard Jameson call someone in the background, and then the voice of a fifteen-year-old boy said a tentative, "Hello?" Natalie had motioned Reb over, and they shared the phone. "Is that you, Diego?" Reb asked, and Natalie could hear and see how lost he felt. His hands shook. She knew he wanted to tell his son who he was, hoping to calm him, and assure him he'd save him no matter what it took. But Diego had no idea he was adopted. The shock would do nothing to make him feel comforted. "Yes. Who is this? What's happening to me? My back's sore." "Yeah. You had something removed," Natalie said. Diego's transponder had been a permanent one, surgically implanted, 259


like her own. The one she'd given Reb days ago in capsule form had been temporary and much easier to get rid of. "They haven't hurt you, have they?" Reb demanded. "No. But I wanna go home." Natalie glanced at Reb, knowing he didn't understand the criminal mind like she did. Jameson could have easily killed Diego and gotten another child to 'pose' as the boy. She needed to verify that it was actually Diego, alive. "And we'll help you, Diego. I promise. First, can you tell me what color dress your mother was wearing today?" Confused, Diego said, "She wasn't wearing a dress. She was wearing a skirt. And it was purple. It's her favorite color." "Diego," Reb cut in again, a little desperately, "just do whatever they tell you—" Before Reb could finish assuring his son, Jameson came back on the line. "We'll meet at seven o'clock at—" "Not so fast," Natalie said, putting the phone exclusively back to her own ear. "You don't get to decide the location. We'll meet where I specify." One of the first lessons she'd learned with her training was that the dealer had the upper hand initially but forfeited it because of his own needs. If she gave Jameson the upper hand, Reb would lose his son for sure. "That won't work," Jameson insisted coolly. "It'll have to work. I know you plan to kill Reb and his son sooner or later. By the time you get the evidence, I plan to have both of them long gone. The evidence has been deposited in a safe place. Once you deliver the boy, Reb and I 260


will leave with him. I'll call you within five minutes to give you the location of the evidence." "You're dreaming. Don't make me chase you. It'll only hurt worse, little girl." Natalie felt everything inside her plummet down into her toes. Of course he'd read her psych files and would try everything to intimidate and best her. She had to stand strong. "This is between you and me, Jameson. If you agree to my terms, I won't involve the Network. You know I ran with Reb and you know why I did. I've been out of contact with my superiors for over twenty-four hours. You know I won't do their bidding until I'm sure Reb and his son are safe." "I can smell the Network a mile away. You know that." "It'll be just Reb and me. Are you ready for the location?" After she'd given him the address of the penthouse apartment only two blocks away from the internet café, he said, "Seven o'clock sharp." She disconnected and told Reb to pack up. They had a lot of work to do.

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Chapter 49 'Impressive' was a mild word for the amount of work Natalie did in a short time. Reb watched as she managed to not only get them in the security access building without being seen, but also to get them inside the vacant penthouse apartment. The stadium-sized space was gorgeous; ballroom ceilings an absolutely killer. Without turning on any lights, Natalie got to work first setting up perimeter webs. Then she assembled and securely fastened a strange rope and pulley system all along the ceiling. The equipment she used blended right into the elaborately decorated walls, the ceiling, and, once she finished, the ropes themselves seemed to become invisible. From the railing on the second floor staircase overlooking the main floor, she hooked herself up on the rope system. Once she was ready, she took a swan dive off the railing and plunged directly toward the floor—fast. Reb almost had a heart attack watching it. But her restraints pulled the rope up tight just a foot from the marble floor. She somersaulted in the air, then soared and glided around the room at every angle, using the ropes to guide her in any direction she wanted to go. From where Reb stood on the bottom floor, he could easily believe she was flying. A few times, she even landed on the enormous chandelier in the middle of the ceiling. The fact that the chandelier made no noise—not even a tinkle of crystal— when she came down on it light as a butterfly, told him she'd 262


been well-trained in this odd kind of bungee-jumping acrobatics. "How the hell did you learn how to do this?" he called up while climbing the staircase to the second floor. "One of the new requirements in my training, set by the new second-in-command who succeeded Jameson. This was one of the most fun parts to me. I aced it." "Why would they teach you something like that?" "#2 was formerly a Navy SEAL. She says it's good exercise and can be used multiple ways for defense. Let's say your suspect just threw himself out of a plane with the last parachute. You can't let him get away. This training teaches you how to use air currents." She did a delicate leap off the chandelier toward him. As she came flying at him at incredible speed, she suddenly pulled herself up hard, directly in front of him. Quick as lightning, she drew a knife from the sheath near her ankle and brought it to his throat. He couldn't have moved if he wanted to. "Jameson will expect me to be lurking within one of the rooms on the second floor. Instead, I'll be on the ceiling. I'll be on top of him before he can blink. But you need to make sure you don't look up at any time and give my position away." She backed up and replaced her knife. Reb shook his head in wonder. "I'm fascinated by all you learn at this place. I've never believed in absolute justice, but I've been overly influenced by Jameson's corruptness. I thought the organization was corrupt because of him." 263


Natalie unhooked herself from the ropes. "In general, the Network can provide justice that no one else can begin to deliver." "Are they corrupt?" "Jameson is. I don't believe anyone else currently there is." "I've never met anyone like you. You're good at everything. I wanna be like you." She chuckled. "That's the training. But I have plenty of shortcomings." She glanced away as they sat together with their backs against the wall, "Network shrink reminds me of that once a month after my psych evals." "You mean it's a hard place. A hard life." She nodded. "There's no room for negotiation. Absolutes rule. It's ironic that to provide freedom, operatives have to lose it. But it's the only way. Until I reach Level 4, I don't leave the compound except on a mission. And we're not allowed to have relationships outside the organization. Romantic entanglements, even on the inside, are strictly forbidden. Love can compromise loyalty to our duty within the Network. My superiors won't take the chance." The life she lived was unimaginable to Reb. And yet ... hadn't he lost his freedom and his ability to have relationships these past two years? His time had been lonely and terrifying, and ultimately all for nothing. Within the Network, maybe he could make a different. 264


Ah hell, he couldn't believe he'd even consider it after believing it to be his enemy for so long. What skills did he have of value to them anyway? He could learn. But would they be willing to teach me? "Our superiors control our lives," Natalie went on. "I know why they have to. I gave up any semblance of freedom and choice when I joined. I was willing because it was worth the trade-off to me. My life wasn't worth anything before I joined. I didn't care about anyone or anything. The Network gave me purpose. I believe in its goals. I even understand why they forbid relationships. Look what I'm doing. I've compromised my loyalty to the Network. If it wasn't for you, I'd wanna go back. It's all I've wanted since I agreed." The longing in her voice shamed him. She loved him and she wanted her life in the Network. Was there any way to have both? From what she said, it was impossible. But he wondered what it would be like—either being hunted forever for love, or living a life full of meaning ... without personal freedom. "What's gonna happen when all this is over?" "I don't know," she answered softly. He could hear pain in her voice. "Will we ever see each other again if they bring you back in?" "No. But if I know you're safe..." "Can we ever meet on the outside?" She swallowed, and he saw fear in her eyes. She wanted to hide the truth from him. 265


"You know the Network has to retain its anonymity above all else. It's why they needed your evidence. You already know too much about them. You're a security risk. They won't leave me on my own outside either. They can't take the chance that either of us will expose them." "So I'm no safer from them than I am from Jameson?" "I can't predict them," she conceded, "but we don't have many options." If the Network controlled its own operatives as tightly as Natalie said, then they knew where she was—they could find her anywhere, the way she already seemed to know. She'd leave him and Diego as soon as she knew they were safe, believing they'd be better off without her. Either he took his chances with the Network, or he gave himself up to Jameson as soon as the criminal let Diego go. This was what he'd been running from all along. No longer could he hide from it. He'd brought it down on his own head, too. But he'd face it finally. As soon as his son was safe, he'd endure whatever consequences he was given to save Natalie from the fate she'd willingly accepted when she fell in love with him.

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Chapter 50 Natalie knew the exact moment their security was breached. She signaled to Reb, who got to his feet, waiting in the middle of the lower floor. The strain of the last hour had been almost beyond what she could bear. While she'd been practicing with the ropes, the stitches holding her wound together had ripped open. She'd managed to make a legitimate excuse to get away from Reb long enough to wrap it back up tightly, but she no longer had the first aid kit to re-sew it. She'd felt it bleeding inside her sleeve for a long time. Now, during the moment of confrontation and truth, she didn't have a single doubt that the bleeding would start again as soon as she got into position. From her place standing on the oversized chandelier, she lowered herself until her legs were hooked around it and she dangled upside down. She could feel the blood flowing freely again, this time harder and faster into the already soaked bandages. Dammit, not now. Putting both sides of her nunchakus into one hand, she gently touched the wrapped wound, glancing at it as she did. Just like she expected, the blood saturated her sleeve now and it was beginning to run down—up, given her upside down position—her arm. She heard a subtle movement from the fire escape on the main floor, where she'd expected Jameson to enter. He did so, and Roan Emory followed him with a gun trained on a 267


young boy. Diego was the absolute picture of a very young Rebel Porter. The three of them met Reb in the middle of the floor. Per the plan, Reb said immediately, "Let the boy go. Natalie's waiting a block from here. She'll give you the location of the disk." Jameson glanced at Roan, who said, "She's not here. I swept the upper and lower levels." Nodding, Jameson gave his partner the order to let Diego go. Reb caught him when Roan shoved the boy toward him. "Run upstairs and hide," Reb ordered—Natalie's signal to act. But she saw at that moment that the bleeding was about to betray her. A drop fell from the cuff of the short-sleeve Lycra shirt. A moment later, it splattered soundlessly on the floor in front of Roan. Holding her breath, she was utterly convinced he saw it, even felt it, though Jameson didn't seem to. Yet Roan did nothing. Now or never. She dropped down from the ceiling, gritting her teeth against the pain screaming through her. Reb didn't look up, but he'd started backing away as soon as Diego ran up the staircase. Jameson focused on Reb. She flew at the defector, slamming him in the head with the nunchakus. She didn't wait for him to drop. Gathering speed again, she flew in the other direction. Behind her, she heard a body hitting the floor. Reb was blocking the path to the front door with the gun she'd given him. Roan rushed forward and rolled toward the sliding glass balcony they'd come in. He fired his gun at her the whole time. 268


Natalie pulled herself up to the railing on the second floor and far enough into the hall that his shots couldn't reach her. She knew he had to be close to expending his clip. When she was sure he was reaching for another, she jumped back up over the railing and saw him reloading while crab-crawling backward to the balcony. Before he reached it, she caught his head between her thighs and slammed the nunchakus against his skull with less force than she usually managed. Her arm howled with pain, too much to put all her strength into another blow. Roan dropped in the doorway, unconscious. His gun clattered down between the iron slats and wedged there. She turned to see Reb had used the hand and leg cuffs on the prone Jameson, and she met him halfway for the second pair. By the time she pivoted back, the fire escape was empty. Without a sound, Roan had fled, tricking her into thinking his drop was real. She pulled on the rope ladder she found attached to the fire escape, but no weight filled it. Roan Emory was long gone. Grimacing, she looked back at Reb. "He's not called the best for nothing," she muttered. "Call it in," he urged. "We don't have any other options, honey." "Are you sure?" If she contacted the Network, any chance of escaping together would be nil. He nodded. "I'll go check on Diego while you do." While he took the steps two at a time, she got the sat phone from the backpack and pulled out the signal jamming chip. She called in and gave her operative number. Just as 269


she hung up, two teams descended and entered from the fire escape. She'd suspected they were in the city—close enough to arrive within a few minutes once the game played itself out, but far enough away that Jameson wouldn't smell them. "You're not done yet, Nat," her mentor, Kirsten Ulrick, said when she entered. "What do you mean?" "Terranzo's meeting with a prominent leader of R.E.D. right now to negotiate a partnership." Natalie swallowed. She was never able to read Kirsten, and it drove her crazy. She did know her superiors would get what they wanted from her before they handed down her reprimand. "What do you want me to do?" "Diego will be returned safely to his parents tonight. We have everything in place for you. There's a boat in the harbor waiting for you. The R.E.D. leader has a yacht out on the water. You'll be given the coordinates once you board the boat. Don't question them. After you tranq both Terranzo and the terrorist, another team will be standing by to extract them by air." "What about Reb?" Natalie asked tightly. "He's not your concern." Natalie set her jaw. "I'm making him my problem," she insisted. Kirsten raised a calm eyebrow. "Or what?"

270


Pulling the micro disk with Reb's evidence out of a zippered pocket, she held it up. "This is one copy of the evidence. I've sent another—" "To Rusty Pujotes. We know." Her mentor's unflustered tone and words told her the Network had been one step ahead of her again—even when she'd tried to outsmart them. Her father was right. She couldn't out-think her superiors. Not now. Maybe not ever. Her confidence deflated in the face of reality. "You can keep that copy you're holding as a souvenir," Kirsten told her. "The file erased itself after you extracted the sample to send to Jameson." Even if her father hadn't deliberately betrayed her—and she suspected he'd been a pawn just as she had been—she'd been played along every minute. They knew she'd go to her father for help, and they knew he'd help her. They'd counted on it. They used her and her father's relationship to Network advantage as usual. Not that they wouldn't reprimand both of them for their lapses in loyalty. Kirsten stepped closer. "Listen, Nat, it happens to the best of us. We lose focus. God knows all of us will at one time or another. But we need to understand we have a job to do—one that's bigger than our own personal needs. You're a Network operative. You've got a mission. Forget everything else." Natalie conceded that she'd gambled and lost. There was nothing she could do to put the odds in her favor again. She'd do as she was told and hope for the best for Reb and his son. 271


"You've done an incredible job so far," Kirsten surprised her with the unusual praise. "Far better than I would have predicted you'd do. Now there's a van waiting outside. En route, your arm'll be patched up good enough for you to finish this. Get to the boat and get in position for the next phase of the op." One glimpse was all she got of Reb before she accepted her fate.

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Chapter 51 Natalie ruthlessly wouldn't allow herself think about anything once she got in the van and endured the makeshift medical treatment so she'd be ready for action at the harbor. Kirsten was right. She had to focus on the mission. She needed to forget Reb and concentrate on the greater good for now. How the hell could she do that indefinitely though? She changed while below-deck in the boat, then moved to the weapons cabinet to prepare the tranq guns. Like a light breeze, a body pressed against hers from the back and a gun met her temple. "Did you enjoy that head lock as much as I did, little Natalie Francis?" She recognized Roan Emory's smooth voice from earlier as he whispered in her ear: "Now where are you going? I don't think you'll be able to fly away like a bird this time." "You'll never escape the Network permanently," she said, trying to hide the tension growing in her chest. She knew Roan Emory's reputation as the most dangerous man in the world. He was no longer on the Network's side. "What makes you think I want to escape?" For some reason, the memory of her blood dripping off her cuff, the way Roan seemed to see the drop splash on the floor ... and ignore it ... came to her. She found herself reasoning out loud in numb shock. "Our superiors knew you'd give yourself up to them, all along acting as a mole for Terranzo," she said in dawning realization, her voice little more than a pant. "They already know—" 273


"You said it yourself, darlin'. They already know. We have a job to do." He took the tranq guns from her and loaded them himself, keeping them close to him as he ordered her topside. She sat, watching him maneuver the boat out of the harbor. She didn't know what to believe, let alone who to trust. The Network had been multiple steps ahead of everyone during the entire mission she'd assumed was the alpha mission. Her superiors always were—on every mission she'd ever worked. Had they been way ahead of Jameson, too? Did they know he'd try to destroy them the way he had, from the inside out? Could Roan's supposed death eight years ago— and then his assumed defection to work with Jameson when he'd been discovered alive a few weeks ago—been planned by the Network from the beginning? Even without confirmation, she knew that was what'd happened. Roan was a double agent. He'd been working with the Network the whole time. Raven Harris and Reb Porter had never been more than branch missions—secondary investments to help them gain the upper hand. They'd been working toward the alpha mission of bringing down the most dangerous terrorist group in the world. Revolutionary Echelon Defenders (R.E.D.) was an invisible, highly militant terrorist group out of Mexico. They were both elusive and vast, spread out all over the world in remote command centers. If the Network had an archenemy, R.E.D. certainly qualified. Jameson intended from the start to side with the Network's archenemy—befitting his need for revenge against them. And 274


Roan Emory was the Network's way inside the covert criminal organization. Natalie lifted her night binoculars to see the outline of the yacht ahead. She see two guards, one standing to port, the other starboard on the open deck. Roan glided over to her and said in a whisper against her ear, "Wait for a few minutes after I'm on board. Keep out of sight. Take the guards out, and then tranq both men belowdeck. No mistakes." He handed her the tranq guns. Roan brought the boat alongside, then cut the lights and the engine, as per his agreement with the terrorists. An instant later, he made an easy leap onto the yacht. Out of sight, Natalie waited with bated breath while he spoke to the guards; they frisked him, then he disappeared below deck.

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Chapter 52 Could she trust Roan? Natalie wasn't sure, but she didn't see any other choice. She'd give away their position to the enemy if she tried to confirm her orders given by Roan. Anyway, hadn't her mentor told her she'd be given the coordinates and further instructions when she got on the boat? Exactly what Kirsten explained had so far happened. Her mentor had even made a point of telling her not to question those instructions. Natalie knew better than anyone that the Network wasn't easily thwarted. No way would she have believed Kirsten if she'd outright told her Roan Emory would be the one to lead this op. This was the only way. Until she bagged the criminals, the air team wouldn't move in. She'd follow orders. A few minutes after she saw Roan board the yacht, Natalie made a stealthy leap across to it. She took out both the guards posted with silent shots, making sure they didn't drop in the water and alert her targets below. Then she moved carefully below deck, following the low murmur of conversation. She saw in the darkness of the hall outside the office that the door was open just a crack. Listening carefully, she located her targets by the sound of their voices. Then, taking a deep breath, she kicked the door open. Basing her aim on the location of their voices, she sent the darts into the necks of the men one after the other. They were out before they could say a further word. 276


With a grin and a satisfied nod at her, Roan eased out his comm unit and welcomed in the air team.

277


Chapter 53 The compound felt strange when Natalie entered with the team. She thought about Reb then. Pain filled her. Pain she knew she couldn't reveal to anyone. Her silence might be the only way to keep him alive. When she dropped her weapons off with her father in Ordnance, he said, "Word is, Emory's been a double agent for the Network all along. Hell of a risk for him to take." She nodded, her throat tight. "Have you seen Reb?" He shook his head, sadness in his eyes. "They're waiting for you to debrief in A." Natalie took a deep breath and walked through the compound, searching for any sign of Reb. She didn't speak to anyone even when spoken to. She found the top four superiors waiting in Briefing Room A along with the Network shrink, Roan, Kirsten and Dez. Natalie knew better than to reveal anything before she was questioned about it. However, the nature of her relationship with Reb was never brought up during the debrief. She sat in concealed shock while she received full commendations for her work on the successful mission. With the confirmation of her new Level 5 status, she walked out, numbed and dumb, when Angelo Pluzetti—#3—dismissed and sent her to Medical. She'd played right into their hands from start to finish, she thought with a snort of self-disgust. They'd rewarded her for being a fool. There wasn't a damn thing she could do about it either. 278


Chapter 54 While Dr. Celine Savage professionally sewed up her wound, Natalie asked if she'd seen any new recruits. Not even glancing up from her work, Celine murmured, "No." Reb hadn't been injured that Natalie knew of, but a trip to Medical was common when anyone was brought in. "Have you seen Reb Porter?" she asked straight out. "Do you know if they brought him in?" Celine would only shake her head as she told her to sit still. What did I expect? Celine's loyal to the Network. She knows when to say little or nothing—just like our superiors. Frustrated, Natalie went to her father as soon as she was released. "Don't look for trouble, doll," he warned her without preface and closed his section, turning wordlessly away from her. She searched every level of the compound she had clearance to enter. Hours later, she lay in her bunk until her father called down and asked her to join him in his suite. "I need to know if they killed him because he's a security risk!" she said hysterically once he opened the door to her. "How can I find out? I don't have the clearance! Help me!" He pulled her into his strong arms, saying he couldn't help her this time—at once comforting and killing her.

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Chapter 55 A week later, she fell back into the routine of Network life, but her heart wasn't in it anymore. Until she knew for sure what they'd done with Reb, she was convinced she'd never again feel loyal toward the organization she'd given her life to. She turned the corner, heading for a training session, and passed the new recruit area. She stopped in shock, then doubled back, not believing for a second what she'd just seen through the glass, down on the training mats below. It's desperation! I imagined it... But she wasn't imagining him. It was Reb. He was working out with a small class of new recruits. She couldn't stop staring at him, too happy to laugh or cry. **** She didn't know how much time had passed when Angelo joined her before the glass. "You didn't kill him. You brought him in. You're training him," she said in wonder. "He posed a security risk on the outside," Angelo said logically. "As you well know, he has valuable skills we can use." Her superior glanced at her. "It didn't hurt that he was more than willing to give up what little life he had on the outside to join us." She remembered Reb's intrigue about the Network that last day when she told him about her life inside. 280


"You were the same way," Angelo reminded. For several minutes, they both watched Reb move through the routines with pure power. The kind of power that guaranteed survival and quick advancement. "Do we still have your allegiance, Natalie?" She swallowed the bitter lump that'd been growing in her throat for the past week, believing Reb was dead and the place she worked for might have killed him. "I did exactly what you wanted." "That you did." She read the trace of amusement in her superior's voice and flushed hot from it. "You knew I'd screw up." "You didn't screw up from our perspective," Angelo said. "Just as we knew they would be, your most powerful skills came into play during the mission. Your success rate is always abysmally low in simulations. You come to life in the field, Natalie. It's your strength. We counted on you forming a bond with Porter. None of it would have worked if you hadn't. Jameson also knew your previous assignments; your slips in mission profile and parameters. It was entirely believable to him that you'd give up your loyalty to us to protect Porter and his son. That allowed him not to sense our presence. We could stay far in the background until you reeled him in for us." Hearing the way they'd pulled her strings her didn't make her feel any less a fool. "What happened to Reb's son?" "Just as Kirsten told you, we returned him to his parents the same day. They were told his kidnapping was serial 281


activity on the part of well-known criminals to the FIB, and we caught the abductors. They know nothing about the Network." Natalie pursed her lips, looking back at Reb. "Sometimes I think this place is omniscient. That it's not just a rumor to keep new recruits in line." Angelo grinned. "We're just champion chess players." As he walked away from her, she wondered if she'd imagined the veiled threat in his words. The Network saw all, heard all, knew all. She and Reb wouldn't be allowed to continue their 'bond' undetected. But she didn't intent to let them win again.

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Chapter 56 Most recruits were in their bunks already, studying or sleeping in expectation of another long and hard day tomorrow, bright and early. She couldn't pull herself away from watching Reb. She'd caught glimpses of him throughout the day. He put more hours into working out than the other new recruits. Already the changes in him were impressive. When he emerged from the unisex locker room, she made sure he saw her. The expression on his face altered radically. Hoping against hope, she turned and started walking away from him. She didn't look back until she got to the bowels of the compound—the only place they couldn't be monitored. The rattle and hum of the huge pipes would make most intimate conversations impossible to overhear. Besides that, the steam interfered with cameras. Many recruits didn't know about this place, that kept the compound functioning every day. She smiled in relief when Reb appeared. He looked both wary and hungry for the sight of her as he came to her. "We can't be overheard here," she assured him. "How do you know?" "I'm sure of it. You're alive." "Maybe for the first time in my life." "So ... you're okay? They didn't punish you?" He shook his head. "You?" "No. I was actually commended for my work. I'm Level 5 now." 283


"Guess it'll take me a long time to get to that point." All new recruits started at Level 7. She'd moved up to Level 6 a year after joining, but it'd taken her four years to get to Level 5. It was said the levels above that could take a lifetime ... or might never be attained. Most operatives never got past 5. "I think you're up for this," she said, and he nodded, looking almost proud of his accomplishments up to this point. He seemed happy ... fulfilled. As if he'd found a reason to live. "You brought Scout here." "Yeah. We have some of the best animal trainers in the world. He'll be treated like a king in between his training." "Are you sure they can't hear us?" Reb said suddenly, looking around like he expected to see something that would tell him they weren't alone, "I've heard this whole compound is bugged. They watch us twenty-four hours a day." "That's true. Excerpt here. My mentor uses this place for privacy. I followed her once." Nodding, he started to reach for her. "Was all that ... between us ... part of your mission, Natalie?" His question gave her the courage to put her arms around him. "No. But this'll be dangerous. We have to settle for something—not much. To me, it's better than nothing." He nodded. "I've spent my life in danger since my dad was killed. Maybe it's growing on me." He kissed her, and she felt herself come to life again, the way she had only with him. 284


"Nothing matters except that you're here and you're alive," she murmured happily. "They don't have to know about us. They don't have to find out I love you." "Or that I love you." Natalie smiled. They sealed their pact to love in the shadows with another long kiss. For life. For a ray of hope.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR Karen Wiesner is an accomplished author with 32 books published in the past 8 years, which have been nominated/won 48 awards, and 23 more titles contracted, spanning many categories and formats. Named a "leading romance writer" in The Writer Magazine, Karen's many series' include the Gypsy Road Series, the Angelfire Trilogy, Dare to Love Series as well as the newest, Wounded Warriors Series. Her fiction novels have been nominated for multiple 'Romantic Times' Reviewer's Choice Awards, the Frankfurt Award, FTHRW's The Lories' Best Published Contest, the Daphne du Maurier Award, many L-edit Slip Contest awards, and numerous EPPIE's. Karen also writes police procedural mysteries with awardwinning author Chris Spindler of Auenwald, Germany. The first book in their Falcon's Bend Series, Degrees of Separation, was originally available in a limited edition hardcover. Degrees of Separation received a 4-star review from Romantic Times and was a March 2004 Top Pick. The Falcon's Bend Case Files, Volume I anthology is now available. Degrees of Separation was re-issued in trade paperback and electronic formats in 2006. Tears on Stone, Book 2 in the series, is also available. Karen designed covers for all three books. Visit Karen and Chris' Falcon's Bend Community, where you'll find giveaways, details on the next Falcon's Bend releases, fun facts, games, and information about the series at www.falconsbend.com. 286


Currently, Karen has sold the first five books in a new romantic action/adventure series called the Incognito Series to Whiskey Creek Press www.whiskeycreekpress.com. The release schedule is as follows: No Ordinary Love (available now), Until Death Do Us Part (available now), Bounty on the Rebel's Heart (available now), Dead Drop (July 2007) and Under the Spell (October 2007). Books 1 and 2 were finalists in FTHRW's 2004 Lories' Best Proposal contest. In the L-Edit Slip contest, No Ordinary Love and Until Death Do Us Part both took a 3rd while Dead Drop took 2nd place. Karen designed all the Incognito Series covers herself. Karen's first writing reference title with Writer's Digest Books, First Draft in 30 Days (a Writer's Digest Book Club Main Selection in March 2005), is now available wherever writing reference titles are sold. Visit the First Draft bonus website, where you'll find articles and supplementals to the book, at www.firstdraftin30days.com. Karen also writes children's books and poetry. Karen is the founding member of Jewels of the Quill www.JewelsoftheQuill.com, a promotional group of women authors who write in a variety of genres. The group has monthly spotlights and giveaways at their website, and was featured in the September 2003 issue of Romantic Times BOOKreviews. Jewels of the Quill has sold several anthologies to Whiskey Creek Press. Tales from the Treasure Trove, Volume I was released September 2005 (with Karen's traditional romance "The Amethyst Angel"). It received a 4 1/2 star review and was a September 2005 Top Pick from Romantic Times BOOKreviews, is a Romantic Times 2005 287


Reviewers' Choice Award winner (Best Small Press Romance), an EPPIE 2006 winner, a Love Romance's Golden Rose Reviewer's Choice Award winner as well as an Ecataromance Best Book of the Year (2005) winner. Tales from the Treasure Trove, Volume II, which also received a 4-star review from Romantic Times, (available now) contains "The Amethyst Star" (futuristic romance) by Karen. Tales from the Treasure Trove, Volume III will be available February 2007 ("Revenge in Amethyst", Adventures in Amethyst Series, Book 2, by Karen Wiesner, romantic thriller). Jewels of the Quill also does annual holiday anthologies with Whiskey Creek Press. The first anthology, featuring six of the authors, is Christmasthemed and titled Small Gifts (available now and including Karen's inspirational romance "A Home for Christmas"). Treasures of the Heart is a Valentine's Day anthology (available now with "A Rose for Romeo", the first in Karen's Adventures in Amethyst Series). Treasures of the Heart was a finalist in The Romance Studio's Cupid and Psyche Awards for best contemporary romance. Shadows in the Heart is a Halloween anthology (coming September 2007 with "Papa", romantic horror, the first in Karen's Woodcutter's Grim Series—Classic Tales of Horror Retold). Christmas Wishes is a Christmas anthology (coming September 2008 with "Perfect Cadence," contemporary romance, the first in Karen's new Kaleidoscope Series). Karen edited Tales from the Treasure Trove, Volume I, and co-edited each subsequent group anthology. Karen also designed all the Jewels of the Quill covers. 288


In addition, Karen's Jewels of the Quill anthology stories will be packaged in the following collections: Dame Amethyst Treasures, including "The Amethyst Angel," "A Home for Christmas," "The Amethyst Star" and a bonus, never-beforepublished romantic paranormal comedy called "Creatures of the Night" (coming July 2007 from Whiskey Creek Press). Adventures in Amethyst Series, including "A Rose for Romeo" (Story 1), "Revenge in Amethyst" (Story 2) plus two bonus stories never before published: "Reckless Rose" (Story 3) and "Christmas in Amethyst" (Book 4), coming September 2007 from WCP. Woodcutter's Grim Series, including "Papa" (Book 1), "Blood of Amethyst" (Book 2) plus a bonus story never before published "The Amethyst Tower" (The Final Chapter), coming September 2008 from WCP. Find out more about Karen by visiting her website at www.karenwiesner.com. If you would like to receive Karen's free e-mail newsletter, Karen's Quill, send a blank message to [email protected].

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Look for Dead Drop, Book 4 of the Incognito Series, coming July 2007 only from Whiskey Creek Press: Roan Emory, Network operative, was inducted against his will. Parris "Perry" L'Engle, an FBI agent and the only woman he ever loved, has never been convinced that the car accident that took Daniel Sands' life was legitimate. Just before his disappearance twenty-five years earlier, Daniel had been approached for recruitment by a covert agency. Now the scenario that had seemed like the catalyst to tragedy is taking place again. Outside her son Danny's office, Perry hears a familiar voice—one she'd overheard the day before Daniel disappeared, giving an identical recruiting pitch to her son. Horrified, she vows this cipher won't get him ... but he can lead her to Daniel. When she finds the man Roan Emory in Chicago, she has to face the fact that Daniel had willingly given up her, their love, and the child he'd never known she was carrying. Also available now: No Ordinary Love, Book 1 of the Incognito Series 1-59374-695-4 (trade paperback); 1-59374-696-2 (electronic) Until Death Do Us Part, Book 2 of the Incognito Series 978-1-59374-697-1 (trade paperback); 978-1-59374-6988 (electronic)

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