Person of Interest (11 page)

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Authors: Debra Webb

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General

BOOK: Person of Interest
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He slid his fingers over her breasts, pleasured her nipples, relishing her responsive sounds. Unable to resist, he bent down and sucked one hardened peak. She arched off the mattress, cried out his name. He smiled and gave the other nipple the same treatment just to hear her call out his name again. He loved hearing her voice…so soft and sexy.

He kissed his way down her rib cage, tracing each ridge, laving her soft skin with his tongue. He paid special attention to her belly button. Sweat formed on his body with the effort of restraint. He was so
hard it hurt to breathe, but he couldn’t stop touching her this way, with his hands, his mouth.

He touched the dewy curls between her legs, teased the channel there and she abruptly stiffened. His body shook at the sounds as she moaned with an unexpected release.

When her body had relaxed he immediately went to work building that tension once more. He nuzzled her breasts, nipped her lips, all the while sliding one finger in and out of her. Her heated flesh pulsed around him, squeezed rhythmically. Soon, very soon he needed to be inside her.

Elizabeth couldn’t catch her breath. She needed to touch him all over…needed to have him take her completely. She couldn’t bear anymore of this exquisite torture. She couldn’t think…couldn’t breathe.

She encircled his wrist, held his skilled hand still before he brought her to climax yet again. “No more,” she pleaded.

He kissed her lips, groaned as she trailed her fingers over his hardened length. She shuddered with delight at the feel of him. So smooth and yet so firm, like rock gilded with pure silk.

Her breath left her all over again as he moved into position over her. She opened her legs, welcomed his weight. His sex nudged hers and she bit down hard on her lower lip to prevent a cry of desperation.

He thrust into her in one forceful motion. For several seconds she couldn’t move or speak. He filled her so completely. The urge to arch her hips was very nearly overwhelming but somehow she couldn’t move. She could only lay very, very still and savor the wondrous awareness of being physically joined with Joe.

Eventually he began to move, slowly at first, then long, pounding strokes. The rush toward climax wouldn’t be slowed, hard as she fought it. She could feel him throbbing inside her. His full sex grew harder as his own climax roared toward a peak.

They came together, cried out with the intensity of it.

As they lay there afterward, neither able to speak with their lungs gasping for air, Elizabeth understood that she had just crossed a line of no return.

She had allowed Joe Hennessey inside her. She, a doctor, had participated in unprotected sex. But worst of all she’d freely given over her already damaged heart.

“Elizabeth, I’ve wanted to make love to you since the first time I saw you,” he murmured, his lips close to her temple. “No matter where I was, I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing you.”

Her chest felt tight. A part of her wanted to confess to the same weakness, but that would be to admit that three months ago she’d already disengaged emotionally from David. What did that make her?

She squeezed her eyes shut and blocked the thoughts. She didn’t want to think right now. She just wanted to lay here and feel Joe next to her. She wanted to let her body become permeated with the scent and taste of him.

Just for tonight.

“When this is over,” Joe said softly, “I want to see where these feelings take us. I don’t want to let you go.”

When this mission was over…then there would be another. Clarity slammed into her with crushing intensity. And another mission after that. Each time Joe would be gone for days or weeks. He could be killed in some strange place and she would never even know what really happened.

Just like before.

She had known this would be a mistake. She couldn’t let herself believe in—depend on—a man who risked so much. She’d already gotten too close to him. Letting it go this far was crazy.

“I can’t do this.” She scooted away from him and to the edge of the bed. “You should go.”

He sat up next to her. It was all she could do not to run away. But she had let this happen. She had to face the repercussions of her actions.

He exhaled a heavy breath, turned to her and began, “When I get back—”

She jerked up from the bed, fury and hurt twisting inside her. “If you come back.” She hurled the words at him through the darkness, imagined his face—his
real
face.

He didn’t respond immediately, just sat there making no move to get dressed. She couldn’t see him really, just the vague outline but she could feel his frustration.

“I will be back, Elizabeth. I won’t leave you the way he did.”

A new rush of tears burned in her eyes. “How can you make a promise like that? You have no idea if you’ll survive this mission much less the next one!”

“Elizabeth, don’t do this.” He stood, moved toward her, but she backed away.

She was too vulnerable right now. If he touched her again she might not be able to stick by her guns. She just couldn’t do this to herself again. It hurt too much.

“I know you don’t want me to go,” he whispered, his voice silky and more tempting than anything she’d ever experienced.

Don’t listen!

She had to be strong.

“I want you to go,” she reiterated. “I’m not going to fall in love with another man who can’t live outside the lure of danger. I won’t let that happen.”

She had to get out of here. Nothing he said would change how she felt. She felt around for her gown, found it and quickly jerked it on. The sooner she put some distance between them the better off she would be.

“Maybe it’s not too late for you,” he said causing her to hesitate at the door. She would not let herself look back. “But,” he went on, “it’s way too late for me. It’s already happened.”

She walked out.

A numbness settled over her.

What was he saying?

She shook off his words.

Nothing he said mattered.

She had to protect herself.

This was the only way.

Joe dragged on his clothes and pushed his feet into his shoes. A rock had settled in his stomach. He needed to convince her that they could do this, but she didn’t want to listen right now.

A part of him wanted to track her down and make her see this his way. But that would get him nowhere fast.

Maddox had hurt her. She was only protecting herself.

Joe was the one who’d made a mistake.

He should have realized she needed more time. Es
pecially under the circumstances. For God’s sake, she’d scarcely gotten through giving him the face of her old lover and learning of the full extent of her former lover’s betrayal. How could he have expected her to fall into his arms and live happily ever after?

Because he was selfish. Desperate to have her as his own. But he’d screwed up. Succeeded in pushing her farther away. Regaining that tender ground might very well be impossible.

He walked out of her room, surveyed the dimly lit hall but she was gone. If he wanted to, he could find her. She wouldn’t be far away. Maybe in the kitchen or behind one of the closed doors right here in this hall. But he couldn’t do that. He had to respect her needs.

Coming here had been his first mistake tonight. He wasn’t about to make another. Oddly he couldn’t bring himself to regret making love with her. Mistake or not, he refused to regret it for a single moment.

Not in this lifetime.

He stole out the rear exit of her brownstone and into the concealing darkness of the night.

Right now he didn’t have time to work this out. He had an assignment that couldn’t wait another day.

But when he got back one way or another he intended to sway her to his way of thinking. Whatever it took, he wouldn’t give up.

They belonged together.

All he had to do was survive this mission.

He had as many of the facts as was possible to glean from the sparse details they had uncovered. He had the face Elizabeth had given him—his ticket into Maddox’s seedy world of betrayal.

He would get this done. He would return to Elizabeth and then he would make her see that he was right.

Maybe she didn’t feel as strongly about their relationship as he did, though he suspected she did. But that didn’t change a damned thing as far as he was concerned.

He was definitely in love with her.

Chapter Eleven

Elizabeth stared at the tousled sheets on her bed. She’d done it again. Made a huge error in judgment.

She hadn’t been able to sleep in here last night. Not with the smell of their lovemaking having permeated every square inch of the room. Even now she could smell the lingering scent of Joe. If she closed her eyes she could recall vividly the way he’d touched her in the dark.

And now he was gone.

She steeled herself against the fear and worry. This was exactly why she hadn’t wanted to fall for a man like him again.

Who was she kidding? She’d fallen for him before she’d even known her relationship with David was over. She’d lied to herself, pretended she hadn’t felt the things she felt for Joe. Denial was a perfectly human reaction to anything confusing or fearful. Just
because she was a trained physician didn’t make her any less human.

Or any smarter, it seemed.

Elizabeth quickly dressed, choosing her most comfortable slacks and a pale blue blouse. She needed all the comfort she could get today, including a light hand with makeup. Not that she wore that much anyway, but she just didn’t feel up to the extra effort today.

As she exited her bedroom, she refused to think of Joe and the idea that he’d likely begun efforts to infiltrate the enemy. If she did she would only start to worry about where he was and what was happening to him.

Today was the pivotal test of all her work. His face, his mannerisms and speech. All of it would be scrutinized by the group of assassins he needed to fool.

God, what if these evil people had already heard somehow that David was dead?

She couldn’t go there…just couldn’t do it.

Work. She needed work to occupy her mind.

When she reached the door she remembered her blazer and she hurried back to her room to grab one.

Again the tangled mass of linens tugged at her senses. She got out of there, took the stairs two at a time.

Determined to put last night completely behind her, she opened her front door and stepped out into the day.

The sun gleamed down, warming her face, giving her hope that this day might turn out all right after all.
A new beginning. Another opportunity to do something good and right. Maybe she would never be as smart as she should be in her personal life, but her career could be enough. It had been for a long time now. Why change a game plan that appeared to work?

“Are you ready, Dr. Cameron?”

Elizabeth smiled at Agent Dawson. Nice, safe, quiet Dawson. Like Dr. Newman. The kind of man she should be seeking, but somehow never gravitated toward.

“Yes, I am, Agent Dawson.” And it was true. She was ready to move on. And she could as long as she didn’t stop long enough to think.

“There’s been a change in plans this morning,” he commented as they moved toward the vehicles parked at the curb. “I’ll need to drive you to the clinic this morning if you don’t have any objections.”

She shrugged. “No problem.” It wasn’t like she had plans to go anywhere during the course of the day. If she had lunch she usually ate in her office. Most likely she’d spend what time she had available between patients going over files and finishing up reports.

That was the least glamorous part of her job—paperwork. Not the insurance forms or billing statements prepared by the clinic’s accounting staff, but the detailed reports on patient history and recommended procedures as well as results of those per
formed and updates on follow-up consultations. Lots and lots of reports and analyses.

Elizabeth frowned as she glanced out the car window. Was there some reason he hadn’t shared with her that dictated the necessity of an alternate route? This wasn’t the way she usually drove to work.

“Agent Dawson.” She leaned forward to get a better look at him if he glanced her way in the rearview mirror. “Is there some reason we’re going this way rather than my usual route?”

“I can’t answer that, ma’am. I have my orders.”

Elizabeth leaned back in her seat, but she didn’t relax. She had known Agent Craig Dawson for more than a year. Something about his voice didn’t mesh with the man she knew. This was wrong somehow.

“Agent Dawson,” she ventured hesitantly, “is something wrong?”

He glanced in the rearview mirror for the briefest moment and their eyes met. In that instant she saw his fear, recognized the depth of it.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Cameron,” he said, his tone hollow, listless. “They have my family…they’re going to kill them if I don’t do what they tell me. Please believe I didn’t have any choice.”

Terror tugged at Elizabeth’s sternum.
They.
He had to mean the people who worked with David…the ones to whom he’d sold out his fellow agents.

Her heart bolted into panic mode.

Was he taking her to them?

Or did he plan to kill her himself…in order to save his family?

She moistened her lips and marshaled her courage. “What’re you supposed to do, Agent Dawson?”

His uneasy gaze flicked to the rearview mirror once more. “I have to deliver you to the location they specified. That’s all.” He looked away. “God, I don’t want to do this.”

“We should call Agent Stark.” She rammed her hand into her purse, fished for her cell phone. Her heart pounded so hard she could scarcely think. “He’ll know what to do.”

Where was her phone? She turned her purse upside down and emptied the contents. She always put it back in her purse before going to bed after allowing it to charge for a couple of hours.

“We can’t do that, ma’am.”

The full ramifications of the situation struck her. He’d taken her cell phone. His family was being held hostage.

Agent Dawson was no longer her advocate.

“Stop the car, Agent Dawson.” Her order sounded dull and carried little force, but she had to try.

His defeated gaze met hers in the rearview mirror once more. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Dr. Cameron.”

Panic knotted in her stomach, tightened around her throat. She steeled herself against it, mentally scrambled to consider the situation rationally.

Her movements slow, mechanical, she picked up her belongings one item at a time and dropped them back into her purse. The lip balm she always carried. Hairbrush. Keys. Her attention shifted back to the keys. They could be useful. She tucked the keys into the pocket of her blazer.

She glanced up to make sure Agent Dawson wasn’t watching her, then sifted through the rest. Ink pen. Another possible weapon. She slid it into her pocket as well. With nothing else useful, she scooped up the rest and spilled it into her bag.

Okay. She took a deep breath. Get a clean grip on calm and keep it. No matter what happened she needed to keep her senses about her.

She was a doctor. She’d been trained to maintain her composure during life-and-death situations. This was basically the same thing.

Only it was her life on the line.

Searching for a serene memory to assist her efforts she latched on to the sensations from last night. Smells, tastes, sounds of pleasure.

She clung to the recollection of how Joe’s skin had felt beneath her palm. The weight of his muscular body atop hers. She trembled as the moments played
in her mind. Their bodies connected in the most intimate manner.

But most of all she held on to the last words he’d said to her…he loved her. He hadn’t needed to utter those exact words, the message had been clear.

Whether she lived through this day or not, she could hold that knowledge close to her heart. She wished she had told him how she felt. Even if it was a mistake, he’d deserved to know. How was it that fear for one’s life suddenly made so many things crystal clear?

She did have deep feelings for Joe. If she were totally honest with herself she would have to say that she loved him. She would also have to admit that it was, without question, a huge mistake. But, under the circumstances, that point seemed moot altogether.

Elizabeth turned her attention back to the passing landscape. She needed to pay attention to their destination. That ability was another thing that no doubt spelled doom for her. Didn’t they always blindfold hostages in the movies so they wouldn’t know where they were taken? Further proof that the outcome for her would not include a dashing hero and a last-minute escape. She would know too many details to risk her survival.

All the more reason to be prepared.

Another thought occurred to her then. “Agent Dawson.” Her voice sounded stark in the car after the
long minutes of silence. When his gaze collided with hers in the mirror she went on, “How can you be sure they won’t harm your family anyway?”

He didn’t answer, except the look in his eyes gave her his answer. He couldn’t be sure, but he had to try. His work had brought danger to his family. He had to take whatever risks necessary in an attempt to keep them safe. He wasn’t a field operative. He was reacting the only way he knew how.

Elizabeth didn’t readily recognize the neighborhood. It wasn’t the sort of area anyone would willingly frequent. Dilapidated houses and crumbling apartment buildings. Trash lay scattered in parking lots and along the broken sidewalks. Junked cars as well as newer models, some considerably more expensive than the houses they fronted, lined the street. At this hour of the morning no one appeared to be stirring about. But she didn’t have to see any of the residents to guess at the community profile. Poverty-stricken. Desperate.

Every city had its forgotten corners. Areas where the government failed to do enough. Where people survived on instinct and sheer determination.

No one here would care what happened down the street or on the next block. Survival depended upon looking the other way and keeping your mouth shut.

Elizabeth had never known this sort of hopelessness. No one should. She hoped this sad part of life wouldn’t be the last thing she ever saw.

The car stopped and Elizabeth jerked to attention. Her gaze immediately roved the three-story building that sat on a corner lot. The windows were boarded up and the roof looked to be missing most of its shingles.

Dawson got out of the car and walked around to her side. He opened the car door and waited for her to get out. Vaguely she wondered what he would do if she refused. Would he shoot her? She didn’t think so.

The energy would be wasted. She had no choice any more than he did. Making matters more difficult would serve no purpose. Agent Dawson wasn’t her enemy. It was the people inside this ramshackle building who represented the true threat.

She got out of the car and he took her by the arm. She didn’t resist, didn’t see the point.

He led her to the front entrance and ushered her inside where the condition of the structure was no better than the outside had been.

Though it was daylight outside, the interior was barely lit and only by virtue of the sunlight slipping between the boards on the windows. She wondered if there was any electricity supplying power to the building. Not likely.

Up two flights of stairs and at the end of the hall Dawson hesitated. Elizabeth met his gaze, saw the regret and pain churning there.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Cameron.”

The door behind him swung open and a man carrying a large, ugly gun stepped into the hall. He quickly patted down Agent Dawson and removed the weapon he carried in his shoulder holster. Then he did the same to Elizabeth. He ignored the keys and pen.

“This way,” he growled.

Dawson held on tightly to her elbow as they moved into the room the man had indicated. She wished she had told Dawson that she knew he was sorry and that she understood, but there hadn’t been time.

“Well, well.”

Elizabeth’s attention darted in the direction of the female voice. Blond hair cut in a short, spiky style, analyzing gray eyes. She looked tough dressed in her skintight jeans and T-shirt. Her arms were muscular as if she worked out with weights. She wore a shoulder holster which held a handgun while she carried a larger, rifle type weapon similar to that of her comrade.

“I finally get to meet sweet Elizabeth,” the woman said hatefully.

Elizabeth felt her muscles stiffen. This was
the
woman. She didn’t have to be told. The woman re
ferred to her in a way that David had regularly, sweet Elizabeth.

Unflinching, she lifted her chin and stared at the other woman who seemed to tower over her. “Who are you?”

The witch with the guns laughed, boldly, harshly. “I think you know who I am.”

Elizabeth ignored Dawson’s fingers squeezing her elbow. His concern for her was needless. She doubted either one of them would make it out of here alive.

“You must be the woman David left every time he came home to me,” Elizabeth said succinctly. The transformation on the other woman’s face let her know her words had prompted the desired result.

Looking ready to kill, the woman strode up to Elizabeth and shoved the barrel of the rifle she carried into Elizabeth’s chest. “You think you know something about me, Miss Goody Two-Shoes?”

Elizabeth held her ground despite the terror sending tremor after tremor through her. “I know David never once mentioned you.”

The woman’s face contorted with anger. Elizabeth braced herself for the fallout. To her surprise the woman’s attention shifted to Dawson.

“Get his wife on the line,” she said to her accomplice.

Dawson tensed. “I did everything you asked. You said you’d let them go.”

“That’s right,” Elizabeth interjected, her heart aching for the poor man, “you got what you wanted. Let Agent Dawson and his family go.”

Dawson looked at her then, his expression trapped somewhere between thankful that his family appeared to be safe for the moment—since he would soon hear his wife’s voice—and downtrodden because of what he’d done to Elizabeth.

The woman said nothing to Elizabeth but tossed a cell phone to Dawson.

“Hello?”

The look of relief on his face told Elizabeth that his wife was on the other end of the line.

“You’re all right?” he verified. Horror abruptly claimed his expression. “No!” He stared at the woman who’d given him the phone, then at the phone. “What’ve you done?”

The oxygen evacuated Elizabeth’s lungs and the room suddenly tilted. Had they…? Oh, God.

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