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  He pulled back her shirt, mindless of the popping buttons, and she smiled, enjoying his frenzy—his need. Her breasts bared, she delighted in the friction of their movement against his chest, her nipples tightening into hot points of desire. As if sensing her need, he dipped his head, closing his teeth on one pulsing nipple, his playful nips sending streaks of heat racing through her abdomen to ignite an unquenchable ball of fire deep inside her.

  He bit harder, and she arched against him, wanting more. Wanting him.

  Fumbling with buttons and zippers, they moved backward toward the bed, each intent on stripping away all physical barriers. Finally naked, they stopped, content for the moment to rejoice in the fact that they were together, linked body to body—soul to soul.

  Then need overcame emotion and Nigel pulled her up into his arms and laid her on the bed. For a moment she stared up at him, joy cascading through her with the strength of an orgasm. Then he was there, his body covering hers, propped on his elbows as he looked down into her eyes.

  "You're sure?"

  The question went much further than sex.

  This was about commitment. They'd made no promises, but the covenant was there nevertheless. Spoken from the heart, she couldn't ignore it and she couldn't deny it, no matter what her rational mind was screaming.

  He waited, his eyes shadowed with a vulnerability she recognized and cherished. She knew what it was like to always be on the outside looking in. Knew how it felt to be alone in a world full of people. And suddenly here in this room, she was certain that she'd never be alone again. If only she had the courage to seize the moment.

  "I'm sure."

  Nigel smiled then, shadows vanquished, and bent down to kiss her, his lips brushing hers with a touch of reverence. As if he was afraid of breaking her, of breaking the fragile bond they had just forged.

  But if time couldn't take away the power of their connection, then neither could fear, and Melissa wanted more. Rolling so that she straddled him, it was her turn to tease and explore, her hands and her mouth tracing the lines of his hard body. There were scars, more than she could count. Reminders of the harsh life he led.

  She kissed each in turn, soothing and exciting all at the same time. Wanting to know every inch of him. Needing to understand where he'd been, the man he'd become—the past and present blending together into one reality.

  She tasted all his secret places, delighting in the feel of his skin against hers, the smell of his body as it mingled with her own scent to create something new and enticing. She circled his penis with her tongue, loving its velvety strength, and then sucked gently, delighting at his immediate response.

  With a groan, he pulled her up, their bodies sliding together with exquisite friction, and then he flipped her over, bis smile wicked now, his eyes burning with a passion she knew was reflected on her own face.

  He kissed the soft skin at the base of her throat, and then traced a fiery line along her shoulder, then downward to the curve of her breast. Laving first one nipple and then the other, he sucked until she squirmed beneath him, her body arching upward, wanting him inside her—part of her.

  Instead he let his mouth trail lower, his fingers still massaging her breasts. He kissed the soft skin of her inner thighs, his mouth teasing her, the white-hot spiral of desire ratcheting tighter with each stroke, each touch. She bucked against him, not certain whether she wanted to retreat or attack.

  But he held her firm, allowing no rebellion, as his tongue finally found home, flicking over her sensitive skin, driving her closer and closer to the edge. Sucking in a breath, she summoned her strength, and with a move worthy of a ninja, she managed to slide beneath him, hip to hip, his penis hot against her thigh.

  "Now," she whispered. "Take me now."

  His smile was answer enough, and in one amazing moment of heaven, he was inside her, each thrust deeper and stronger than the last. She moved against him, finding the rhythm, her body giving and taking as they moved together—strength against strength. Two halves of one whole.

  And then there was no coherent thought. Just blinding sensation, far beyond pleasure or pain. The two of them joined as one, suspended amidst shattering brightness and consuming joy.

  KHAMIS STOOD BY the window looking out at the moon. The cold wash of light heightened the shadows, illuminating nothing. He had awoken from the nightmare bathed in sweat, his breathing labored, the pain almost beyond bearing. In his dream, Kerea had come to him, her dark eyes soft with passion, her lips full and moist. He had reached for her, his heart rejoicing in her presence, but as always, before he could touch her, she faded away. The shadows consumed her even as the heat of the bombs exploded around him.

  Kerea was gone. He would never kiss her again. Never hold her trembling, warm body beneath Ms. He would never hold his sons. Never carry them high upon his shoulders. Never teach them to become men.

  Everything was gone but the pain.

  He leaned his forehead against the cold window glass, his mind lost in the past, lost in his pain. In one moment of betrayal, she had taken everything from him. His family, his life, his soul.

  And by the cold heartless light of the moon, he swore again his revenge. An eye for an eye. What he had suffered she would suffer, too. By all that was holy, Melissa Pope would pay.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  BREAKFAST WAS A grand affair at Cullen's safe house, a buffet to fit a king served daily, complete with three kinds of eggs, steak, ham and biscuits so light Melissa would have sworn the cook was Southern. This morning she felt particularly hungry, due in no small part to the fact that Nigel had kept her up most of the night. Not that she was complaining.

  "Sleep well?" Sam slipped in beside Melissa, helping herself to a generous portion of scrambled eggs.

  "Fine." Melissa shot a sideways look at the other woman, trying to see if there was more to her comment than just a surface greeting. But Sam was reaching for bacon, her face devoid of any innuendo. "Or at least as well as can be expected under the circumstances."

  "I can understand that. Standing knee-deep in alligators isn't exactly sleep inducing."

  Melissa glanced over at Nigel, who was in deep discussion with Payton and Cullen, the latter waving his hands to emphasize whatever it was he was telling them. "I shouldn't have gotten you all involved in this."

  Despite last night's reprieve, there was still the small matter of someone out there wanting her dead, and someone else walking around with enough R-VX to take out New York City. Even if she managed to escape the one, there was every reason to believe she'd be killed by the other.

  But in all honesty, what scared her more was the possibility that Nigel would get caught in the cross fire. That by coming back into his life, she'd pulled him into the sights of a killer.

  "There's nothing you could have done that would have made him walk away." Sam, it seemed, was channeling Madison.

  "I could have resisted the urge to call him."

  "No, you couldn't." Sam's eyes were kind. "I've stood in your shoes, believe me. And the good news is that Payton and I both lived to tell about it."

  Sam grabbed a muffin and, without another word, headed off toward the dining room table, taking a seat next to Pay-ton. Melissa watched as he absently drew Sam into the circle of his arm, effortlessly including her in his conversation. That's what Melissa wanted. What she'd yearned for most of her life. She wanted to fit.

  To belong.

  As if he'd heard her thoughts, Nigel looked up with a smile, his dark eyes devouring her in one slow sweep. He tipped his head toward the chair next to his, gesturing her over with a hand, his smile for her alone.

  Secure in the intimacy of the moment, she walked to the table and sat down, realizing that she was no longer outside looking in. Despite all the evidence that had been stacked against her, this group of hardened operatives had persevered to prove her innocence. They'd done it for Nigel, there could be no question of that, but they'd accepted her in the process, and there was somet
hing humbling about the idea. Something powerful enough to break through the defenses she'd worked so hard to build.

  Maybe there was hope. But before she could possibly consider the idea, she needed to find out who was hunting her— and why.

  "So where are we?" Melissa asked, pushing all emotion aside to address the group at the table. "Anything on Alexi's shipments?"

  "Harrison is working on it as we speak," Cullen said. "We've been talking about Khamis."

  "Did you connect him to Alexi?" she asked, taking a sip of her juice.

  "No. There's no intel to support any kind of relationship between the two men. In fact, at least on the surface, they had no commonality at all," Payton said.

  "What Payton's dancing around, Melissa, is that Khamis apparently has a tie to you." Cullen's words cut through her with the surgical precision of a scalpel, her earlier thoughts of acceptance threatening to hemorrhage away.

  "I've never met the man." She flinched at Nigel's touch, suddenly feeling as if she'd been ambushed.

  "No one is saying that," he assured her, his tone placating.

  "Then what are you saying?" She turned to him, trying to contain her anger,

  "Khamis al-Rashid lived in Afghanistan, Melissa." Madison stood in the doorway of the dining room, her expression full of concern.

  "I thought you were going home?" Gabe asked with a frown.

  "I am." Madison's smile was gentle. "But I thought I'd hang around to be sure that Melissa was okay first."

  "But I don't understand," Melissa said, trying to understand the importance of what they were telling her.

  "His primary residence was an Islamic training camp in the mountains." She paused, her gaze holding Melissa's. "It was about three clicks north of Abu Khabab."

  "But that was the camp I infiltrated."

  Madison nodded. "Khamis's family was killed in the subsequent raid. His wife and two boys."

  "Oh, my God." Melissa closed her eyes, her mind trotting out images of the children she'd seen running around the camp, some of them barely more than babies.

  "They knew what they were doing," Nigel whispered, his hand on her thigh.

  "No, they didn't," she said, pushing away from the table, all thoughts of breakfast evaporating. "Maybe their parents knew. But the children didn't."

  "The price of war is always high, Melissa." Payton's tone was quiet but there was authority there.

  "I know. I just haven't had it hit me in the face before." She walked over to the window, staring out at the golden fall sunshine. "How old were his sons?"

  "Three and six." Cullen's voice held a surprising degree of compassion.

  "They were just babies." She gripped the windowsill, trying to sort through her rushing emotions.

  "Whose parents were training to be killers," Gabe said, his tone bordering on fierce.

  "The sins of the parents." Melissa whispered the words but Nigel heard her, crossing the room, his hands warm on her shoulders.

  "You aren't responsible for what happened there. You were just doing your job."

  "Hell of a thing—killing children in the name of democracy." She stepped away from Nigel's embrace. "I'm sorry. It's not that I wasn't aware of what I was doing. And I'm more than aware that the world is a safer place without terrorists training to destroy it. But those boys were innocent, no matter who their father was."

  "But the seeds of hatred had already been planted, Melissa." Cullen's eyes were kind. "Besides, nothing is accomplished without a price. You know that."

  "And Khamis? What has it cost him?" Melissa turned to face her friends, searching for answers when there were none.

  "While I don't condone the murder of children, Melissa, I don't feel any remorse for al-Rashid's suffering. Believe me, he'd gone to the dark side long before his family was killed." Gabe crossed his arms, his expression brooking no argument.

  "So what about the connection? You think that somehow he's behind everything that's been happening to me?"

  Payton shook his head. "Not directly, no. It doesn't track. If a man like Khatnis wanted you dead, believe me, you would be."

  "But I think it would be foolish to dismiss the correlation out of hand," Madison said. "If Khamis is behind the theft of the R-VX and if he's in bed with Alexi Kirov, I'd lay down odds that his actions are at least in part motivated by his need for revenge. According to Harrison, the general responsible for ordering the raid on the camp is dead."

  "What happened?" Melissa asked, not certain that she really wanted to know.

  "He was killed when terrorists bombed the Kuwait eml bassy." This from Gabriel.

  "So what? I'm next?"

  "We don't know anything for certain." Nigel's tone was soothing, but she wasn't interested in being pacified.

  "But we know enough. Someone has been trying to kill me. We can't avoid that fact. And despite your confidence in his abilities, Payton, it's surely possible that Khamis just missed. Hell, everyone makes mistakes."

  "Maybe, but I doubt it. According to the intel we dug up, he's been connected to several successful terrorist attacks, including a busload of American tourists in Dubai. Suffice it to say the man seems to be very good at what he does. And who-ever's been after you has screwed up at least twice that we know of."

  "That's wonderfully comforting." She wrapped her arms around herself, trying for a calm she most definitely did noi feel. "That means I have two people out there hunting me."

  "Which is why you have to stay here." Nigel reached to touch her, but she shook him off.

  "I know you mean well, Nigel. But I'm damned sure not sitting here on my ass waiting for the bastard to come for me. We've covered this territory before. I'm fully capable of taking care of myself, and while I recognize that I need your help," she said, including them all, "I also need you to understand that I'm not going to play princess in the tower, waiting for someone to come along and rescue me."

  "I didn't mean..." Nigel trailed off, holding his hands up in defense.

  Her anger was out of place, and she knew it. But it was based on real feelings. Feelings of guilt for the children who had died in Afghanistan, and anger at the people who had put them in harm's way. And if she were honest, she was angry at Nigel, too. Hating the fact that his reaction to the situation was to try and sequester her away from the action.

  "All right, Rapunzel," Harrison said with a smile, striding into the room, printout in hand, "I suggest you saddle up the destrier and hit the road."

  "I take it you've found something," Payton said with the barest of smiles.

  "Two possibilities." Harrison nodded. "A shipment bound for D.C. has mysteriously turned up in New Jersey. Port of origin was Istanbul. Seems like it's worth checking out."

  "You said there were two things," Cullen prompted.

  "Yeah." Harrison turned a page, scanning the document in his hand. "Another shipment arrived two days ago from Greece. The manifest doesn't match the shipping list Alexi has documented here. Seems there was an extra crate."

  "The boat still in port?"

  "No." Harrison shook his head. "And the shipment's gone, as well. But the Port Authority was able to provide an address for the miscreant crate." He held out a piece of paper, and Melissa grabbed it before anyone else had the chance.

  "Looks like Melissa and Nigel are following up on the crate," Cullen said, apparently accepting her diatribe at face value. "Payton, you and Sam head for New Jersey."

  Gabe opened his mouth to protest, but Cullen raised a hand. "I want you to take your wife home. Once she and the baby are settled, then you can meet up with us at headquarters in New York."

  Gabe nodded, a modicum of relief washing across his face.

  "Since Melissa is determined to leave the ivory tower, it seems New York is the most expedient place for us to confab." Cullen sighed. "So, everyone off to your tasks, and with a little luck, maybe we'll have answers before lunchtime."

  Melissa glanced over at Nigel, not at all surprised to see displeasure. D
espite his protestations to the contrary, she knew damn well that he'd prefer to keep her under lock and key until they'd found Khamis and the R-VX.

  But since that wasn't going to happen, he'd be sticking to her side like a burr on a hound dog—and she had to admit she was damn glad to have him there. It was easy to talk a good game, but it was quite another to go out there knowing that she had one or more enemies who wanted her dead.

  Especially since she'd only just discovered she had everything to live for.

  THE NEW JERSEY DOCKS had a seedy appearance that wasn't helped by the quickly clouding day. The downside to life on the coast was mat the weather could change in an instant— and usually did. What had started as a bright fall day was quickly descending into darkness, the smell of rain sharp in the cold air.

  Payton skirted the car and nodded toward Sam, who was approaching the warehouse door from the right as he approached from the left. Both had their guns drawn, even though there had been no evidence that their arrival would be protested.

  "Three cars around back," Sam said with a tilt of her head.

  Payton nodded. He loved working with his wife. Partly because she was among the best he'd ever worked with, partly because they were so attuned to each other that their movements needed no choreography, and partly because it meant he could keep an eye on her.

  An archaic notion at best, but there you had it. He smiled and watched her grimace in response, knowing damn well that she was, as usual, reading his mind.

  "It's thoughts like those that make women run," she whispered, her smile countering any true negativism.

  "I'm glad you didn't," he answered, inching closer to the doorway, his focus on the possibilities inside more than the conversation. He shifted slightly so that he could see through a small window. After double-checking the perimeter, Sam joined him.

  There were two men in view, working with a conveyor belt. But three cars meant at least one more person in the building. "You see anybody else?" she whispered.

  Payton shook his head, his eyes still searching the shadows along the far wall. "There's another room to the left. The door's open, but I can't see anyone."