Family Secrets: Books 5-8 Read online

  Definitely, definitely no more kissing.

  Unless, of course, she started it.

  He glanced across at her pale, perfect profile. Shed turned her face to the darkness outside as if she couldnt stand the sight of him. He felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest.

  Okay, so kissing was out of the question. Probably. Although he might have the chance to change her mind. Theyd be stuck together for at least the next several days. And nights.

  His body surged at the thought. Days and nights.

  Except, you know, that was exactly the kind of distraction he didnt need. The kind of distraction that could get her killed.

  Better for both of them if she was pissed off. Safer for both of them if she retreated from that wild, hot, passionate woman who had exploded in his arms, and went back to playing Madeleine Albright.

  He shot another wary glance her way. Except Ambassador Albright never had hair that red or a mouth that soft. Ambassador Albright had never kissed him and clung to him and made him feelMade him want

  Nope, he was never going to be able to think of Sam as Madeleine Albright.

  She had the pose down fine, though. She sat like a good girl in the front pew of the church with her back straight and her hands folded in her lap.

  Yeah, and if he took his eye off her for one second shed go tiptoeing through the woods, scattering a trail of bread-crumbs.

  Gutsy, he thought. But strain had tightened the muscles around that lush mouth. Her face was white above his dark jacket. She looked tired.

  Almost there, he offered.

  She straightened against the vinyl seat. Where?

  This farm I know about. Its not the Ritz or anything, but its safe. Nobody will find you there.

  She arched her brows. Am I supposed to find that reassuring?

  If I had Rebelian spies and Coalition hit men gunning for me, Id find it reassuring.

  You actually believe that, dont you? she asked slowly.

  Believe what?

  That Im in some kind of danger.

  I wouldnt be chiseling you out of dinner with the president if I didnt.

  Hasnt it occurred to you that I could be in more danger stuck out here alone with you?

  He didnt like her question. But there was a lot about this assignment he did not like. He watched the sagging rail fence along the road for the turnoff to the farm and wondered what the hell he should say to her.

  Baxter told him and his gut told him that she had to get out of D.C. She couldnt remain the visible target of an unknown assassin and an unidentified mole. She had to be safer with him.

  And yet if anything went down, if he went down, shed be left alone and defenseless.

  Its not my call, he said finally. But if it was, Id say youre only safe if you can trust the people entrusted with your protection.

  Samantha sniffed. Well, you just made that difficult, didnt you?

  He winced. Okay, so defenseless was the wrong word. But a guy with an AR-15 and a rifle scope could still blow her brains out and never come close enough to get flayed by that tongue of hers.

  Get over it, he said tersely. As of tonight, Im all youve got.

  Samantha blinked. Get over it?

  He barely spared her a glance. Yeah.

  Samantha was ambushed by the anger that flared in her. The car lurched off the road and up a narrow, rutted track lined with trees, but she hardly noticed. Did he have any idea what he was talking about? Any idea who he was talking to?

  In the past year she had accepted the end of her dreams for a family. She had endured the loss of her husband. She had embraced the challenge of his career and buried her life and her heart in his work. In the past few hours, shed been deprived of dinner at the White House. She had been kidnapped and kissed within an inch of her life. And she hadnt once broken down or fallen apart. Not once.

  I do not need Navy Rambo telling me how to cope, she said coldly. I cope. I cope beautifully. Everybody said so, didnt they? I do not have to be told to get over anything.

  The glow from the dashboard gave an odd cast to Marcuss face. Or else he was looking at her strangely.

  Good, he said. The car stopped. He pulled the keys from the ignition. Were here.

  What?

  Were here. At the farm.

  Oh.

  Disconcerted, cheated, she peered through the windshield. In the shelter of the trees stood a tall plank house with a long front porch. Slivers of white paint gleamed in the moonlight.

  Marcus got out of the car and lifted the hood, blocking her view.

  What are you doing? she called.

  Making sure you cant hot-wire the car, he replied.

  She tried not to feel flattered. Actually, she said dryly, I missed the course on car theft at Harvard.

  Lucky for me, Marcus said, and put something in his pocket.

  She raised her eyebrows. Isnt this trust thing supposed to go both ways?

  He opened her car door for her. You told me a minute ago not to underestimate you. Im taking you at your word.

  What if we need to leave in a hurry?

  He nodded once, acknowledging her fear. Its a risk. But, maamSamantha His hand cupped her elbow. His gaze, dark with purpose, sought hers. Youre not in danger here. I wont let anything happen to you. I swear. Besides His smile glimmered. I can get this or any other vehicle operational in under sixty seconds.

  Her heart drummed in her ears. She swallowed with effort. I take it you did not skip the class in car theft?

  He merely grinned, and her pulse raced.

  Oh, she was in danger, all right. Terrible danger. Of losing her distance. Of losing her focus.

  Of losing herBut she wouldnt let herself finish that sentence, even in thought.

  Marcus parked the green sea bag at the foot of the ratty couch. He set the lantern on an end table, where its light pooled on the braided rug and sparkled on the hem of Samanthas gown.

  Ive turned on the water pump. In the morning Ill go out to the barn, see if I can get the generator working. Make yourself at home. I want to check out the upstairs.

  Samantha raised her eyebrows. Arent you afraid Ill run away?

  Nope. Cars out of commission. You cant run in those heels, and the nearest neighbor is over a mile away through empty fields and dark woods. I figure youd rather take your chances with me tonight than the bears.

  Her blue eyes widened. Bears?

  He grinned to himself as he slipped up the stairs. She wasnt as tough as she liked to pretend. But when he came down a few minutes later, after checking the windows and mapping the layout in his head, the laughter stuck in his chest.

  Samantha had taken off his jacket. She stood unmoving in the shabby living room, tall and straight as a candle lighting up the darkness. Her hair was a banked and coiled fire on top of her head. Her dress shimmered over her bodice as she breathed. She looked too beautiful to be real and too remote to be touched.

  He cleared his throat instead.
The bedrooms are in pretty good shape. Dry. I found some sheets in a closet. Youre the second door on the left. You want to go ahead and get changed now?

  She turned her head and looked at him, a goddess contemplating destruction. Get changed into what? I dont have any clothes.

  Actually, you do. He came down the last few steps and hefted his bag. My sister stays at our familys place in Georgetown. I borrowed some of her things.

  That was kind of her, Samantha said politely.

  Not really. I let myself in while she was at work. Honey works in the White House basement, he explained. I doubt shell even notice these are gone. And I picked you up some other stuff.

  Thank you, Samantha said. But she made no move to take the bag from him.

  Marcus tried again. You have time to get changed before dinner.

  I dont need dinner.

  You should eat.

  Her beautiful eyes narrowed. I should have eaten at the White House.

  He felt guilty. Damn it. Next time I kidnap you, Ill do it after dessert, okay? You want soup?

  Im not hungry.

  Got to keep your strength up.

  Are we arm wrestling later?

  Wrestling was good. Naked body wrestling. With oils.

  He had an instant vision of Samantha, her pale skin glistening with oil, her full breasts and smooth thighs gliding, sliding over and around

  Bad idea. No wrestling. No distractions.

  He wrenched his mind back to the job, to the immediate objectives of food and survival.

  Ill heat some soup. Itll be ready when you come down.

  She looked annoyed. Good. Annoyed was better than frozen. Annoyed wasnt scared. Annoyed wasnt depressed.

  I told you Im not hungry, she said.

  So youre just going to starve yourself until you faint or something and Ive got to take you to the hospital? Which, I have to point out, does not exactly fit my plan of not drawing attention to ourselves.

  Oh, Im so sorry, she said. I guess being kidnapped spoiled my appetite.

  He snorted. Honey, Ive been watching you for a week. I sat in on your lunch with Senators Dumb and Dumber, remember? You have no appetite. Ever. Youre making yourself sick.

  It wont hurt me to lose a pound or two.

  How many?

  Excuse me?

  How many pounds have you lost since your husband died?

  She frowned. I dont know. A few.

  Three? Five?

  More thanI fail to see how this is any of your business.

  More than five? Because that could be a sign of something. Anorexia, maybe. Depression.

  Samantha sighed. I am not anorexic. For heavens sake, would you look at me?

  I am, he said, eyeing her frankly. And you look great. But more than five pounds

  What do I have to do to convince you?

  You could eat some soup.

  Fine. She blinked. You set me up, she said, a note of discovery in her voice.

  He grinned at her. Yeah.

  The corners of her mouth indented like she was trying not to smile. Im really not very hungry.

  Thats okay, he said. I am. You can keep me company.

  The smile escaped. She had the greatest smile, wide and full, with deep, amazing dimples. He felt the pull of it low in his gut.

  I can do that, she agreed. After I change. Where am I sleeping again?

  With me.

  He picked up the bag and the lantern, glad to have something to do with his hands. Second door on the left. Ill show you.

  Thank you, she said politely, like he hadnt kidnapped, bullied and insulted her.

  He followed her up the stairs, directing the light at her feet and trying not to notice how really, really great her butt looked flexing and swaying under her sparkly dress.

  It was a good thing she was taking it off.

  And maybe, you know, her zipper would get stuck or something and she would ask him to help her. Maybe shed raise her hands to her warm, red hair, so that her breasts lifted with the movement, and turn her head a little, so she could see him over her shoulder, and ask him in that rich, incredible voice

  Could I have a candle?

  What? Oh. He felt the heat crawl into his face, but maybe she couldnt see him blush. He set the lantern on the dusty dresser and stepped back quickly, out of the light. Ill leave you this.

  What about you?

  Ive got another lantern in the car.

  She tilted her head. And how does a lantern in the car help you going downstairs now?

  I have pretty good night vision.

  He could see like a cat in the dark. It made him a natural for night ops. And it meant he didnt miss one detail of her appearance now: the fatigue that lay like bruises under her eyes, the tired pout of her lips, the gentle pull of fabric against her softly curved belly and generous thighs.

  He looked away. You should get changed, he said hoarsely.

  That would help.

  That had to help. There was no way they could survive the next couple of days alone together with her looking like the queen of the night and him with a raging hard-on.

  He clomped down the stairs, making no attempt at all to move silently, and escaped outside to unload the car.

  Samantha made her way down the staircase by feel, gripping the banister while the lanterns light bounced and swayed at her feet. She found her way to the kitchen by smell, guided by the comforting aroma of chicken soup and the promise of fresh coffee.

  Marcus stood with his broad back to the door, stirring a saucepan on an old gas range. Blue points of light danced under the pan and the bubbling coffeepot. A lantern cast a yellow glow over the old wood cabinets, the scuffed and faded linoleum floor and the scarred oak table set with thick white china. Limp curtains stirred at the window over the sink. The breeze carried with it the scent of grass and a chorus of insects.

  The scene was heartbreakingly homey, reassuringly domestic. Until Samantha noticed the dirt deep in the corners and the gun tucked into the holster at the small of Marcuss back.

  Her heart jolted.

  Soups ready, he announced, turning from the stove. Why dont youWhoa.

  His gaze hit her chest and riveted there.

  She was wearing stiff, dark jeans so new shed cut the tags off and a tiny red T-shirt with the words Kiss Kiss blazoned in silver glitter across the front.

  She raised her chin. One of your sisters, I presume?

  Oh, God. Marcus managed to drag his gaze to her face. Appalled humor filled his eyes. Im sorry. I just reached into the drawer and grabbed. I never thought theyd be soso

  His attention drifted back to her breasts. Her nipples puckered.

  Short? Samantha inquired helpfully, praying he wouldnt notice her bodys reaction to his continuing scrutiny. Tight?

  He shook his head. Suggestive.

/>   She glanced down at her front. Kiss sparkled from her left breast. Kiss twinkled on her right.

  I had a choice, she informed him wryly. The black one says Sexy Chick and the blue one says Im Yours.

  Im going to kill my sister, Marcus said. That, or lock her up until shes, like, ninety or so and no longer a danger to herself or others.

  Samantha laughed. How old is she now?

  Honey? His gaze was still fixed on Samanthas breasts. Twenty-three.

  She shrugged, both uncomfortable with and flattered by his regard. Young enough to wear racy slogans.

  Old enough to know better, he said grimly. I, uhOh, God, Im staring. He focused on her eyes. You must think Im a jerk. A jerk and a hypocrite.

  I think youre protective, she said, biting the inside of her cheek to keep her smile in check. And honest.

  And sweet, she thought but did not say. There was a limitwasnt there?to the amount of positive reinforcement you were supposed to give a man who had recently kidnapped you.

  Im sure your sister appreciates having her big brother critique her moves and her wardrobe.

  If possible, he turned even redder under his tan. Oh, my sister thinks Im a caveman. And I think shes a loon. But you know, we mostly get along okay.

  His embarrassment and his affection were plain. And very, very endearing. Im sure you do.

  Shes not a bad kid, really. Shes a lot brighter than our parents give her credit for. Brighter than me.

  Why do you say that?

  He shrugged and removed the hot soup from the stove. Because its true. Sit down.

  She sat. But

  Its okay, he assured her. I got used to the idea that I wasnt the sharpest tool in the family shed a long time ago.

  I dont see that at all, she said.