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The clock on the wall swore it was nearly five in
the morning; it had felt like days rather than hours since she had been dragged from her apartment and forced into the back of a stinking van.
“The cave,” he mumbled, hunched over the keyboard, his fingers working the keys with rapid motions that she would have been impressed by if it weren’t for the fact that she was cold, exhausted, and standing on less than certain ground.
“I don’t like caves.” She bit her lip as she stared around the dark wood walls.
“Stand down, Emerson, I’ll be with you in a minute.” His voice was clipped again, impatient.
A frown jerked at the corners of her mouth; it had been a long night and she needed some fresh air.…
She came to an abrupt stop when the steps met a blank wall. Reaching out, she searched for whatever mechanism opened it. There had to be a mechanism.
“It’s electronically controlled and only I have the code.”
“Why isn’t there a regular door?”
“It’s a secured room, Emerson,” he told her quietly. “No entry in or out without my command. We’re on lockdown until Admiral Holloran and Nathan manage to figure this out and capture the leader of the cell of terrorists that took you from the house tonight. We’re going to be roommates for a while, so you might as well come on down here and let me show you around.”
“Do you have any idea when that’ll happen so I can get my life back?” She watched him, feeling uncertain, off balance. Not frightened, but neither did she feel secure within herself.
“Are you going to whine over this?” He cocked his head to the side and watched her curiously. “Funny, Emerson, I didn’t see you as a whiner. Come on, I’ll show you the bedroom and bath. You can freshen up and get some rest.”
He strode across the huge room toward the door at the far wall. Her lips parted in shock. He was ignoring her, striding away from her as though her questions were the result of a whining personality. She did not whine.
Her eyes narrowed to slits. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, Macey?” Each word was precise, hard.
Macey paused at the door, turned, and lifted his brow.
“Oh, yeah, Emerson, I’m really enjoying this. Instead of being on the streets searching down terrorists, or covering my buddies’ backs, I’m here. With you.” His gaze flicked over her body. “Where I get to sit with my thumbs up my ass, deflecting your little daggers, and praying this case breaks before the March family reunion weekend in a few weeks.”
She blinked back at him in surprise. “You have family?”
“I wasn’t exactly hatched.”
“Neither are coyotes, but that doesn’t make them domesticated,” she shot back sweetly. “Does your family live close?”
“Close enough.”
“Just close enough?” She turned and leaned against the wall, watching as he watched her.
“Why do you want to know, Em?”
He was the only one who called her Em. It sounded good, much better, and much more feminine than Emerson. But then, her father had wanted a son, not a daughter. They hadn’t been prepared with little girl names when she had been born.
“Maybe I just want to know about you.” She leaned her head against the wall, somehow enjoying how he towered over her, the way he watched her with that baffled male confusion.
“No, you don’t, you want to make me crazy.” His voice roughened as his gaze flicked down her body again. “That’s what you’re good at. Be careful, it might backfire on you this time. You’re damned good at making me crazy, and that should tell you something about this little deal heating up between us. You’re not going to walk all over me like you do the admiral or the men you work with.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I resent that remark, you know.” But she had to admit she did have that habit. “Maybe I just want to find someone who can outthink me. Can you outthink me, Macey?”
“On any low country night that you want to bring on, sweetheart.”
That voice: dark, husky, male. It did something to her. It soothed the anger and the fear and it made the hunger hotter, brighter, the need for his touch almost desperate.
His head lowered as Emerson felt the familiar slow burn, the rising mind-numbing need that began to fill her. It was more than arousal, more than hunger, and it went deeper than lust. She knew lust. She had felt it often enough before Macey. No, whatever it was her body decided it wanted from this man, it was unlike anything she had ever wanted from a man before.
“Maybe it would backfire?” She stared at his lips, mesmerized, feeling her lungs struggle for oxygen as adrenaline began to pump hard and heavy through her body. She had to curl her fingers against her sides to keep from touching him, had to fight to keep from tasting his lips.
