SEVEN
Emma bolted upright. Her heart slammed against her rib cage as she blinked into the darkness. Something clamped around her wrist.
“What’s wrong?”
The deep male voice pulled her out of the dream and into reality.
She was in a tent. With Ryan.
She’d been kidnapped and put in a dark room. But she was free now.
“Hey.” He sat up and pulled her against him. “Bad dream?”
“No, I just—” She glanced around. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
She crawled for the door and found her flip-flops in the corner.
“Wait.” Ryan was pulling on his boots. He was in jeans already, and she had a vague memory of him getting up earlier to tromp around the campsite, probably making sure they were secure.
Emma pulled on her flannel shirt and buttoned it up. It went to her knees, so she decided to skip the rest of her clothes. Ryan unzipped the tent and slipped out, then held the flap as she followed. A bright half-moon illuminated the campsite, and she watched in amazement as he tucked something big and black into the back of his jeans. “What the hell is that?” she demanded.
“My Sig.”
“Since when do you have a gun?”
“Since always. Come on.”
He led her down a dark path through the trees, and again she marveled at his sense of direction. It seemed like they were wandering into the wilderness, but sure enough, they arrived at a bathroom. There was some sort of windup lighting system that involved turning a dial to generate about a minute of light. Emma hurried through her pit stop and rejoined Ryan out front.
He stood shirtless in the moonlight, surveying the surrounding woods.
Emma’s breath caught. He turned to look at her, and all she could think was How did I get here with him?
They walked in silence back toward the tent, and she folded her arms over her chest to fend off the chill.
“Sorry I woke you up,” she said.
“I’m not.” He pulled her against his side and wrapped his arm around her. “You fell asleep too quick, threw a wrench in my plan.”
“What plan is that?”
“I’ve got a whole list of things we haven’t gotten to do yet.”
“Ha-ha.”
“You think I’m kidding?”
“When did you have time to make this list?”
His arm tightened. “I’ve been thinking about it for weeks now.”
Emma’s cheeks warmed. He was probably just saying it to flatter her, but she didn’t really want to pin him down. “So I’ve made a decision,” she said, redirecting the conversation. “I’m going to go to the FBI tomorrow.”
They reached their campsite, and he stopped beside the pickup. She looked up at him, and even in the dimness, she could see the worry etched on his face. “You sure you’re ready?”
“I can’t avoid them forever. I figure it’s time to suck it up and get the meeting over with.” She kept her gaze trained on his face, because she didn’t want to look at his bare chest and think about how perfect he was and what a fluke it was that he was here with her. “I need to sort this out, whatever it is, so we can get back to our regularly scheduled lives.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “You sure about this?”
“Yeah.” She wouldn’t tell him how scared she felt, how she still didn’t trust anyone.
He looked so strong and powerful he nearly blocked out the moon. Everything about this was fleeting—she knew that—but she couldn’t stop the pang of longing inside her.
She cleared her throat. “So this list of yours. You plan to tell me what’s on it?”
“I don’t know. You might get offended.”
“Tell me.”
The corner of his mouth curved up. “Might be easier if I show you.”
———
Emma slumped against him, breathless and sated. Her skin was so wet she had to peel herself off him.
She rolled onto her back, and he leaned over and dipped his head down to lick her neck.
“Umm.”
She pushed him away. “Ew, I’m sweaty.”
“You’re sexy.”
She was soaking wet, and the humidity in the tent had turned her hair to frizz. “I don’t think so.”
“I do.” He settled himself between her legs. “Everything about you is sexy.”
She stared up at him in the dimness. A question popped into her head, and she decided to ask it before she lost her nerve. “Why’d you keep turning me down that first night? If you’re attracted to me—”
“Not if.”
“Then why did I practically have to beg you?”
He gazed down at her, not saying anything for a long moment. “Why are you stuck on that?”
“I’m not.”
He rolled onto his side and pulled her back to fit against his chest. “Yeah, you definitely are.” He brushed her hair off her damp neck and kissed her behind her ear, sending a shiver through her body. “I’m sorry I made you upset.”
“You didn’t make me upset, really. You made me feel . . .”
“What?”
She looked at him over her shoulder. “I don’t know. Rejected.”
“Rejected.”
“Yeah. Do you have any idea what it feels like to bare yourself to someone and they look at you and say ‘no thanks’?” She watched him, but she couldn’t read his expression.
“You really want me to answer that?”
“Yeah.”
“No, that’s never happened to me.” He kissed her shoulder. “But I didn’t intend for you to feel rejected. That’s the opposite of what I wanted. I wanted you to feel, I don’t know, respected.”
“Respected?”
“Not like some casual hookup. That first time, we didn’t really know each other.”
She blinked at him. “It was last night.”
“Yeah, and a lot’s happened since then. Anyway, what’s so bad about you getting off?”
“Nothing.”
“Jesus, I was trying to be considerate. I didn’t want it to be all about me.”
“But it shouldn’t be a one-way thing.” She sighed, wishing she could make him understand. “Women like to share things. It’s called intimacy.”
He pulled her closer and nestled her bottom against his strong thighs. The tent was dark and quiet, and the moment stretched out as she waited for him to respond. “I’ve never been good at sharing,” he said, and she detected a warning note in his voice.
“Oh really?”
“Really.” He gave her shoulder a little nip. “Just so you know.”
She settled her head against his arm and closed her eyes, loving the warm stroke of his palm over her hip— “Ouch!” She jerked up, bumping his chin.
“Jesus!”
“Something bit me.” She swatted at her knee.
“A mosquito?”
“I don’t know. Something. Maybe a spider.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” She lay back down.
“There’s a hole in the tent. Sorry. I know you’re scared of bugs.”
“I’m not scared of bugs. I hate their little guts, but I’m not scared of them.”
He pulled her against him. “I thought you were.”
“No. Bugs are a nuisance. Flying, I’m scared of. Always have been.”
“Oh, yeah? Even before the crash?”
“Yeah.”
For a few moments, there was only silence. She closed her eyes and tried to relax as his hand moved lazily over her hip. She needed to sleep tonight. She really, really needed to sleep tonight. It felt like forever since she’d truly slept.
He kissed her shoulder. “I should take you skydiving.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I can help you get over your fear,” he said.
“I’d probably have a heart attack.”
“We can go tandem. I’ll be right there with you.”
“That is so not happening.”
“Do you trust me?”
His voice sounded serious. It wasn’t just a throwaway question. He propped himself on his elbow and looked down at her.
“I did, but—”
“But what?”
She sighed. She didn’t want to talk about this right now. But when else would they talk about it? They were alone in the quiet privacy of their crappy tent. “You shouldn’t have called my father behind my back,” she said.
He brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. “That’s a big deal to you, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
It got quiet again. She could feel him waiting for her to explain, but she didn’t want to. Not right now. She didn’t want to ruin the moment by delving into it.
“I apologize.”
Two simple words. But she knew that he meant them, and she felt her chest tighten. He could be so sincere, and sincerity—true sincerity—was so rare in her life. “Thank you,” she whispered.
She rested her head on his bicep, and the solid heat of his body enveloped her as she lay there in their wooded hideaway. His warm hand stroked over her, and she closed her eyes, suddenly so tired she couldn’t move. But her mind was racing, and random snippets tumbled through her head.
She was going to the FBI tomorrow. In a stolen truck.
She wasn’t some casual hookup.
He’d made a list.
He settled his arm around her waist, and she let out a sigh. What a long, strange trip it had been.
And it wasn’t over.
———
Saying she was ready to talk and actually going through with it were two different things, Emma realized, as they sped down the highway.
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
She glanced at Ryan. “I want to,” she said.
“No, you don’t.”
“I need to.”
He darted another look at her as he slowed for their exit. “You sure?”
“This has dragged on too long already. This isn’t even your job.”
“What isn’t?”
“Protecting me like this. I mean, it’s Tuesday morning. Don’t you have someplace to be? Like on base or something?”
The sign for the truck stop came into view, and she gripped the door handle. Ryan swung into the lot and surveyed the scene. He had that look again, that sharp, assessing look he got when he was on a mission. He’d handpicked this meeting spot. When Emma had called Special Agent Mays from a gas station, Mays had wanted them to come to the FBI field office, but Ryan had nixed that plan in favor of a public place. Emma wasn’t sure why.
Her stomach tightened with nerves as Ryan pulled into a space.
“Still time to change your mind.”
She looked at him. “No. And I’ve been thinking. If the subject comes up, we should tell her I stole the truck. She wants information from me, so I can trade on that, maybe get immunity from charges or something.”
“No one’s going to believe you hot-wired a truck.”
“We’ll say I coerced you.”
“Also not believable.”
“But you could face charges.”
“Don’t worry about me. Anyway, they have it on tape.”
“Have what on tape?”
He hopped out of the truck and slammed the door. She did the same.
“Ryan?”
“Come on, I want to get there ahead of her, scope out the area.”
She strode up to him. “They have it on video? How do you know?”
“Jake said something about it when I talked to him this morning. Relax.”
“I will not relax! You’re going to get in trouble, Ryan. You need to just . . . leave. Go back to San Diego, and let me handle this from here.”
“No.”
“But why are you helping me? Why is Jake?” This had gotten totally out of hand. She’d never meant to drag them into this.
Ryan wasn’t paying attention. He was too busy scanning the parking lot, looking for God only knew what. Probably undercover FBI agents or assassins or both.
“Ryan?”
“Jake feels bad because he’s pretty sure he led a tail to the safe house. He thinks that’s how they found you.”
“He does?”
“He offered to check out Mays for us. He believes we can trust her, and Jake has a radar for that kind of thing, so as far as I’m concerned, she’s clear.”
Emma shook her head. Jake was helping her out of guilt? It made no sense. Jake wasn’t responsible for her. Neither was Ryan. And yet they were risking their careers to get involved.
“We need to get inside.” Ryan put his hand on the small of her back and steered her across the parking lot toward the entrance. He pulled the door open for her, and the smell of frying bacon wafted over from the diner attached to the gas station.
Emma caught Ryan’s arm as they reached the hostess stand. “You still haven’t answered my question.”
He scanned the restaurant, and then his attention settled on her. “What’s that?”
“Why are you helping me?”
He smiled slightly and picked up her hand. “You really don’t know?” He kissed her knuckles, and Emma’s heart skittered. Then his gaze darted over her head, and his expression darkened. “They’re here already. Let’s go.”
———
Special Agent Alexa Mays wasn’t at all what Emma had expected, and she could see right away why Jake had offered to check her out.
Tall and slim, with long chestnut-colored hair, she looked more like a supermodel than a federal agent. But the badge clipped to her belt reminded Emma not only of who she was but also the gravity of the situation. She shook the agent’s hand and slid into the booth across from her.
“Thanks for meeting me,” Emma said.
“No problem.”
It was a lie, obviously. Everything about this meeting had been problematic for Mays. But Ryan had insisted on this venue, a full two hours outside of Los Angeles. Emma darted a look over her shoulder.
He’d also insisted on sitting at a nearby table that faced the door. Emma figured he had some sort of tactical considerations in mind.
A server came by and flipped up two mugs. “Coffee?” she asked sweetly.
They both nodded. Mays waited until the waitress was gone to begin talking.
“I’ll get straight to the point, Ms. Wright.”
“It’s Emma.”
“You’re in a dangerous situation here, Emma.”
“I’m aware, thanks.”
Mays tipped her head to the side, not liking the sarcasm. “After your friends reported you missing, we recovered traffic-cam footage showing a black Land Rover speeding away from the area where you were abducted. That vehicle is registered to Orion Shipping.” She paused. “You ever heard of them?”
“Not before this, no.”
“Orion Shipping also owns the building where you were being held. We were on the verge of executing a raid on that building when you managed to escape.”
None of this was news to Emma. Ryan had told her all of it in the car the night before. She clutched her hands around her coffee mug as the agent pulled out a file folder.
“You recognize any of these people?” She placed a picture in front of Emma containing two rows of mug shots, six in all.
Emma’s stomach clenched as she recognized a heavyset man with flat, dark eyes.
“Which one?” Mays asked.
She glanced up, and the agent was watching her intently, obviously aware that she recognized someone.
Emma cleared her throat. “Him.” She tapped the photo. “He was the one who abducted me. And later he was guarding me, but I managed to get away.”
Mays’s eyebrows tipped up. “Lucky you.”
There was an edge in her tone that put Emma on the defensive.
“You don’t recognize this man?” Mays pointed to a mug shot on the top row.
“No.”
“He’s Ricardo Avedo. Known as Ricky. He’s in charge of Orion Shipping’s U.S. operations and he resides in Los Angeles. You’ve never seen him?”
“No.”
“Lucky again. Avedo is not a nice guy. We’ve been investigating him for three years.”
“For what?” Emma examined the photo.
“Drug smuggling, racketeering. We’re particularly interested in his ties to a human-trafficking ring operating out of Southeast Asia. A lot of people are paying big money for passage to this country and phony documents.”
“I can imagine.” Emma pushed her coffee mug away. “What does any of this have to do with me?”
“You may also be aware that Richard Conner is under investigation.”
Emma sat back against the booth and stared at her. “Since when?”
“You didn’t know, then?”
“No.”
“Since March.”
“Well, what’s he being investigated for?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
Emma stared at her, a knot in her stomach. “Are you telling me . . . the ambassador was mixed up with this criminal enterprise? That Avedo had something to do with our plane going down?”
“I don’t know.”
But she didn’t deny it. Emma’s heart was racing now. Maybe she’d had it all wrong. Maybe her hunch was off, and the ambassador was the target after all.
“I take it, given your closeness to Ambassador and Mrs. Conner, that you were aware of the previous attempts made against her life?”
“Yes.” Emma felt numb. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but she was starting to put it together. The ambassador was mixed up in something criminal. And whatever it was had gotten his wife killed.
Mays was watching her closely. “You’re in possession of some very sensitive information, Emma. At this point, we think it’s best if we bring you in to discuss how we can ensure your safety.”
Emma gulped. “Bring me in?”
“We’d like to put you under federal protection until this investigation is concluded.”
“That’s not happening.” Emma turned around to see Ryan standing behind her. He slid into the booth and leveled a hard look across the table at Mays. “Until the threat against Emma is eliminated, she stays with me.”
“Lieutenant Owen—”
“You can’t guarantee her safety, and you know it. You can’t even tell her who called her the other night pretending to be you. Or did I miss something?”
Mays looked from Ryan to Emma, then back to Ryan. “You think you can guarantee her safety against the entire Avedo network? You overestimate yourself.”
Ryan just watched her with a steely look. Then he turned to Emma. “It’s your call, Emma. What do you want to do?”