Playing For Keeps (Montana Men) (7 page)

Duel grunted. “As a hotdog and a bun.
Fuck.
We need hazard pay. You know this is going to explode in our
faces. One wiretap, one snoopy reporter, one hidden camera, and it’s all out
there, just like Watergate and the
Washington
Post
.”

“Yeah.”

“Four? Is there a four? Of course there’s a four.” Duel
blew through his teeth and did his best to rein in his temper. “Hell. Right?
Four?”

Travis grinned. “Don’t you just know it? And it’s a
whopper.”

Duel groaned, and rubbed the ache between his eyes. “Go
ahead, hit me. I know you’ve saved the best for last. You love this. I know you
do.”

“I’m not the enemy here,” Travis said, amusement crinkling
his eyes, “but
―
”

Snarling, Duel shook his head. “There’s always a
but
.”

“Yeah. Molly Westcott, our beautiful first lady, is three
months pregnant…and she hasn’t slept with the president of this great nation
for at least eight months.”

“Jesus, doesn’t Delacourt believe in backing up to dump
his load?”

“Are you kidding? He convinced Molly to toss her birth
control pills. He told her the real proof of their love was the child she would
conceive with him.”

“Good grief, they planned the baby?”

“Oh, yeah. I can’t tell you how many trips Molly made to
Spain just so they could get together at the
right
time of the month…but it was frequent.”

“And John never caught on?”

“You’re joking? He was damn glad to get her out of his
hair. Interns, you know? They’re so green and dewy-eyed, every one of them
willing to get on their knees for the prez. He’s helped a few of them into the
right position, if you get my meaning.”

“Let’s get outta here.” Duel said shaking his head,
“before I throw up. Or hell, who knows, we get snowed in, and have to sleep in
our offices.”

Travis nodded. “We should be so lucky…

*
* * *

Five hours and twenty minutes before the assassination…

“Are
you certain you don’t mind working late?” Samantha Rivers, Chief of Staff at
her particular branch of the CIA slid her black leather purse strap over her
shoulder and turned to eye her secretary, Flayme Jansen.

“I’m
positive. I don’t have any plans. It’s not like I’ve been invited to the first
lady’s big do.”

Samantha
groaned. “Be glad. Two of my agents are attending. They probably aren’t very
happy about it.”

“Travis?”

“Mmm,
yes, Travis. And Duel.” Samantha busied herself fastening the big round buttons
on her navy blue wool coat. “I hate winter. I hate snow.”

Flayme
grinned. “Then move to Florida.”

“And
give up all this intrigue and excitement?”

“Who’s
Duel? I don’t remember meeting him.”

Samantha
frowned. “Duel Remington. I don’t think he’s been in his office since you were
hired on.”

“Ah,
yes, the mystifying locked office with the big stack of mail piled on the
floor, and minus the agent?”

“That’s
the one. Trust me, once you meet him, you’ll never forget him.” She shook her
fingers as if they burned. “Hot. And hung.”

Flayme
lifted a brow. “Do tell. Sounds intriguing. Do I hear the rattle of bed
springs?”

Samantha
giggled. “No, I haven’t slept with him. We worked together in the field a
couple of times. One time we were deep undercover in Iraq before 9/11. Duel
took a bullet high in the upper leg, missed his manly jewels by a scant quarter
inch.” She shook her head, respect and awe in her voice. “He walked on that
damn leg for two days before his pride finally caved and he agreed to let me
take a look. I had to dig the bullet out right there in the middle of the
flaming desert with Iraqi soldiers crawling up our asses.”

“Oh,
crap.”

“Yeah. It was bad. Heat. Sand. Scorpions.” Samantha
paused, a distant look in her dark eyes. “Believe me, you’ve never seen or
heard anything creepier until you see and hear one of those big-ass camel
spiders wheel across the sand screaming. And Duel out of his head with fever. I
kept pressing my hand across his mouth to keep him from giving away our hiding
place. I finally found an abandoned hut to take cover in. By the time I got his
boots and fatigues off, he was shaking so badly, I thought he’d die. Let me
tell you, girl, I got an eyeful.”

Flayme
grinned and shook her head. “Of course you had no choice but to look.”

Sam
chuckled. “He had to know I was drooling like an idiot, but he just cut his
eyes at me, lifted a brow, and said,
Don’t
touch
, and passed out cold.”

“Oh,
God, that’s hysterical.” Flayme pressed a hand to her stomach, laughing. “Poor
man.”

“I think he was afraid I’d cut
it
off digging out the bullet. But he made it loud and clear with
just the look from his eyes if I ever told a living soul I’d seen what I saw,
there’d be hell to pay. He never said a word about it when he woke up, but I
knew he was embarrassed as hell.”

“What
did you do?”

“Dug
the damn bullet out with a little pissant knife I carried in my pocket. No pain
medicine for him. All I had to see by was a little penlight. I stuck the strap
of my canteen between his teeth and prayed it was enough. “I was never so
scared in my life, but he didn’t make a sound while I worked over him.” Sam met
Flayme’s wide gaze. “I
know
it hurt
like hell. He clawed his fingers in the sand and I swear his body lifted an
inch, but not a peep.” Her eyes clouded with the memory. “There was so much
blood, and I didn’t know if I was injuring his…you know.” Sam knitted her
brows. “If ever you need a man by your side in battle, he’s the one you want,”
she assured Flayme.

Flayme
tossed her bounty of red curls over her shoulders, sniffed and swiped the
sudden tears from her eyes. “It must have been pure hell for him.”

“It
was. I was so scared he’d bleed to death or die of infection.”

“Ah-ha.
I do detect a note of interest in the agent.”

“Reverence,”
Sam replied. “Nothing else. Hell, no. A woman would be a fool to tangle with a
man like Duel Remington. He’d have her panties off her in nothing flat, on her
back, and the deed done before she knew what happened, then it’d be
sayonara,
sweetheart. No seconds. No
repeat visits. She’d be left to pick up the pieces of her shattered heart.”

“He
never tried anything on you, even knowing you knew his—him…rather intimately?”

“Never.” Samantha blinked, tightening her grip on her
purse strap. “He’s my top agent. I value him, but he is what he is. It doesn’t
include a sexual relationship between us. We had some close calls in the
service of our country, and it creates a certain bond. Near death experience
shared. Our mortality smacked us in the face some days and necessity forced us
to sleep side by side at times, but not once did he ever cross the line. He was
always a perfect gentleman.”

“Huh.”

“Oh,
don’t get me wrong,” Sam said. “When I was first assigned with him, I would
probably have given him whatever he wanted, but he didn’t make a pass.”

“Gay?”
Flayme lifted both brows in question and sighed. “I swear, these days, all the
good ones are gay. A damn shame, too.”

Sam
giggled. “You’ve obviously never met the man. Testosterone oozes from his
pores. No way is he effeminate or gay. A gal would be damn lucky to have one
night wit
h
a man like him…but
—
”

“What
about Travis?”

Samantha
stiffened. “What about him?”

“You’ve
worked in the field with him, too?”

“Yes?”

“Had
to sleep side by side?”

“Yes.
Several times,” Sam confirmed.

“He
never tried to kiss you?”

Samantha
blushed. “No.”

Flayme
grinned. “You’re sure?”

“I’m
positive.”

“Ever
had to dig a bullet out of his groin?” Flayme asked, curious.

“Shoulder.
He dug a bullet out of my shoulder.”

“Oh…wow,”
Flayme exclaimed. “I didn’t know you’d been shot.”

“Yes,
once. Six years ago. Trust me, once is enough.”

“And
Travis took care of you?”

“He
did.”

“He’s
insane about you.” Flayme eyed Sam, curious to see her reaction.

“No,
he isn’t.”

“He
is. The man can’t keep his eyes off you. They’re hungry, too.”

“That’s
his problem,” Samantha snapped.

Flayme arched both brows. “Whoa. I didn’t mean to tread on
touchy ground.”

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to sound bitchy. There’s bad
history between Travis and me…absolutely not a smidgen of romance or sexual
attraction. He leaves me cold.”

Flayme
grinned. “Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.”

“He’s
a good agent, but I–I don’t like him.”

“Well,
if you aren’t
—
”

“I’m
not
—
”

“I
might give him a shot, then. He’s fiendishly hot.”

“Fiendishly?
You make him sound like a vampire or something.”

Flayme
laughed. “You know what I mean. Wicked. I love those fierce, penetrating blue
eyes of his. They’re utterly bedroom sexy.”

“They
are?” Sam asked. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Flayme
snorted. “What are you, dead from the neck down? Of course you’ve noticed.”

“Okay,
maybe I noticed a little, but…we don’t get on.”

“Uh-huh.
So he hasn’t kissed you?” Flayme busied herself collecting some papers off
Sam’s desk.

“What?”

“You know…kissy-wissy?” She puckered her lips and made kissing
noises.

“I haven’t kissed Travis.”

“So he’s lousy in bed?”

“Oh, no, he’s great…” Sam’s words trickled away. Her dark
Spanish eyes narrowed. “You tricked me.”

“I did, but your secret’s safe with me.”

“It was over before it really got started.” Sam shrugged.
‘Nothing’s left.”

“Too bad. Sometimes going back is even better than the
first time.”

“I gotta go. You’ll be here until at least midnight, but
the guards know. I have to have that entire file updated, the information
printed off and ready to go out tomorrow.”

Flayme nodded. She knew a change of subject when she heard
one. “It’s okay. And don’t worry, I’ll send it post haste in the morning.”

“No. Don’t mail or email it. Print it off, save a backup,
then delete the files. After that, deliver both the hard copy and thumb drive
personally to the president.”

Flayme narrowed her eyes. “He knows I’m the one delivering
the package?”

“He does. Is there a problem?”

“No.” Thoughtfully, she tapped her chin with a blood-red
fingernail, then shrugged. “I’ll deliver it first thing tomorrow morning.”

Sam eyed her for a moment. “Is there something I should
know?”

“No, of course not.” Flayme gathered the last file and
smiled. “No problem. I swear.”

“Okay.” Sam shrugged. “I’m expecting a call from Jayla
Ross. We’re meeting here about twelve-thirty. I’ve told the guards to expect
her. Just buzz her in when she gets here. Our flight leaves at two a.m. for
Hawaii…sun and fun on the beach for an entire week. I can’t wait.”

“Jayla Ross. Gotcha. Now get outta here.
Shoo.
You still have to get ready for
the dinner party.”

“I know.” Sam groaned. “Why did Molly have to have it on a
Monday night? And on the night before my vacation begins? I swear the woman has
built-in radar to wreck my plans. See you here a little after twelve.”

“I’ll be here.”

Chapter Three

Sex is like having dinner—sometimes you joke
about the dishes; sometimes you take the meal seriously.

~Woody Allen

Washington D.C.

Whitehouse

February 16, Monday

Two hours and fifteen minutes before the
assassination…

CIA
Agent Samantha Rivers pushed a sprig of soft brown hair behind her ear,
adjusting the ear bud determined to slip out of place.
Across the room, Travis
watched her with eyes he knew betrayed the fact he wanted her.

If
only she’d look his way
—
once
—
just once
—
and when she did
—
saw
him, instead of looking through him.
Damn woman, she
never
looked him in
the eyes. Not anymore. Not like she once did.

He
had a bad feeling she never would again.

She
pretended to look at him, but always focused her gaze above his head. Or
averted it completely. Sometimes she busied herself straightening papers and
magazines when she had to discuss a case with him.
What did she have against him? Hell, no use asking such a dumb
question.
He knew exactly why she detested him. It had nothing to do with
the kisses they’d shared—kisses so hot his soul felt scorched, but everything
to do with her husband’s death. Why the sorry bastard had to get killed when he
did was a question that gnawed at Travis constantly.

No, he’d known from the look on Sam’s face she’d never
forgive him for her response to his touch. Damn it! She’d done everything she
could to cut him out of her life, except for his job. She needed him as one of
her agents, because like Duel, he was the best at what he did, but she resented
the fact she needed him in any way.

The
past six years he’d pursued her
—
to
no avail. He
knew
things
—
too many things she’d rather he didn’t
have intimate knowledge of
—
like
the bruises he’
d seen on her back and ribs. The way she moaned in the back
of her throat when he aroused her, the sweet weight of her breasts in his
hands, how her nipples tightened and tasted on his tongue.

Afterward,
she’d run from him. She hadn’t stopped running since. He knew she ran because
she was ashamed she’d responded to him the way she had. Damn it, he’d known
she’d feel guilty. He’d known going in that her conscience would eat her alive,
but he hadn’t heeded the warning signs. No, he’d only thought of what
he
wanted—Samantha Rivers, with every
beat of his heart. He still did. He suspected that particular want was never
going to be cured.

Somehow,
Sam had burrowed into his heart, settled in and took permanent root. The first
time he’d caressed her breasts, Samantha had come undone in his arms. In spite
of the fact she’d been starved for sex, Travis knew she’d never absolved
herself or him for that one brief interlude.

She
hadn’t forgiven.

And
he hadn’t forgotten.

Six
years ago, and seconds after he climaxed, her cell phone rang. The sudden chill
that came over him, told him the call would destroy them. He’d tried to talk
her into not answering. Of course she ignored him, pulled out of his arms, and
picked up the phone with unsteady hands.

He
didn’t think he’d ever forget the look on her face; the ultimate refusal to believe
what she was hearing. Sam stared at him with big doe-like eyes filled with
shame and horror. He took the phone from her and demanded to know who was on
the other end. The call from the D.C. Metro Police Department where David
served on the force ended any chance of a future with Sam.

David Rivers was guilty of a lot of things, and his
untimely death just proved if he’d been where he should have been, then the man
would still be alive to inflict havoc. Travis didn’t know if that was a
blessing or not. But from the look on Sam’s face when she ended the call, he’d
known right then their chance of a future together died, along with David
Rivers.

Travis
tried talking to her, but Sam couldn’t escape him fast enough. She’d carried
the guilt around with her for these past six years, and he was certain she
intended to carry it around for at least the next six years, if not forever.

Yeah,
he knew things about her, so
many
things and more, much m
ore
—
things
he couldn’t tell her, things she didn’t know. Travis clenched his jaw. Sam was
wary of him for all the wrong reasons. Somehow, he had to fix things between
them.

Duel
sidled up beside him. “Careful, bud, you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve.”

Travis
ignored his partner, and allowed his gaze to follow Samantha’s progress across
the crowded floor as she made her way through the elite multitude of
Washington’s upper crust of political
big
dogs
. She looked heavenly in the red satin evening gown and sparkly choker
around her throat. “Huh? What did you say?” Travis frowned.

“I
said you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve.”

Not
letting Duel distract him, he shrugged. “No problem, she’ll never notice it
there.”

“Uh-huh.
Let’s hope I’m the only one who notices your dick jammed against your zipper
like a pistol ready to fire.”

Travis
glanced in the southerly direction, and swore softly. “I can’t help the
response of my body. And she won’t see that either.”

“Has
she ever?”

Feeling
defensive, Travis refused to answer.

Duel
gave a low whistle. “Shit. I was kidding. I didn’t know you’d done her. Lucky
guess.”

“I
haven’t
done
her.” At Duel’s doubtful
look, Travis swore again.
“Fuck.
I
don’t like sharing information. For God’s sake, she freakin’ hates my guts
because I…she wouldn’t let me do it again, even if I got on my knees and
begged.”

“Something besides sex happened between the two of you?
Don’t deny it. I’m an expert at reading faces, old buddy.”

“Yeah. Something happened, but not what you think. A kiss.
A damn kiss that led to more and more, until I had her beneath me…you know? It
wasn’t like we were declaring we were in love or anything. It just happened.”

Duel
snorted. “It might have
just happened
,
but whether you think so or not, just seeing the look in your eyes when she’s
around, there’s more to it than that. You are so gone.”

“Shit.”
Travis folded his arms across
his chest. “Maybe I am, but she sure isn’t.”

“Need
an ear? I’m a good listener.”

“I
don’t know. I’ve said enough already. I try not to think about it. The ghost of
her husband stands between us. I sure as hell haven’t talked about any of it.”

“Sometimes
talking about things helps put them into perspective.”

Travis
shook his head. “Perspective? There’s nothing left to worry about putting into
a better sense. I fucked her. She let me. I want her again. Right after I made
love to her, she gets the damn phone call telling her that David is dead.”

“That
sucks.”

“Yeah.
She hates my guts. That’s about as plain a picture as it gets.”

Duel’s
lips quirked. “Well, you just painted a pretty simple picture there, partner,
but when the hell did life get
 
uncomplicated?”

Travis
clamped his lips together. “I wouldn’t say it’s uncomplicated. No. It’s very
complicated. Feelings…emotions are always so damn convoluted.”

“They
can be.” Duel nodded his agreement. “That’s why you never look back, my friend.
Never take a second or third ride. You pull on your pants, make your exit and
make it fast.”

“I’m
not that unfeeling, Duel.”

“It
doesn’t have to be cold while you’re doing it, Travis, just when it’s done,
you’re finished. Tuck your dick behind your zipper, and mosey on down the
road.”

Travis
narrowed his eyes. “You must have told that to Sam, because it’s exactly what
she did to me six years ago.”

“She
tucked her dick behind her zipper?” Duel said, tongue in cheek.

“Funny.
Same as, though. We were on assignment in Paris, back when Sam still worked in
the field. We were posing as newlyweds. I guess we took our roles too
seriously. You know, sharing a room, meals, her undies scattered everywhere. I
kept jerking her bras off the shower rod and tossing them at her when I needed
the shower, because you know…she’d rinse a couple of them and hang them over it.
One day, I just held onto one. Damn. It was soft and silky and even though
she’d washed it, I still smelled her perfume on it, and fuck if I didn’t get
hard as a rock standing there sniffing her fucking bra.

“She
didn’t know I was in the bathroom and burst in. There I stood, naked, hard, her
bra pressed to my face sniffing it like a perverted freak. Hell, she probably
thought I was some kind of depraved monster.”

Duel laughed. “What did she do?”

“She very carefully backed out of the bathroom and slammed
the door. But then she shoved the door back open, yanked her bra out of my
hands, gave me a cool, but thorough once over, then slammed the door in my face
again.”

“She gave you the once over?” Duel snickered. “Jesus. You
mean like…she stood there and measured your dick with her eyes?”

“Yeah, bold as can be. She took her sweet time, too. I
swear to God, I nearly buckled to my knees and whimpered.”

“What did you do?”

“I took my fucking shower. A cold one!”

“Then what happened?”

“Nothing. We went to dinner, and pretended it never
happened. Then things went wrong. Sam took a bullet for me the next day.”
Travis felt a shudder tear through his body at the memory. “I thought I’d die
right there when I saw her go down. We were in deep shit and there she was
bleeding. God, we had to get back to our room undetected. I carried her up a
flight of stairs because the stupid lift was stuck on another floor. Everyone
thought it was romantic…you know? Honeymooners and all? Once we were safe in
our room she…uh, she didn’t want me to remove her shirt. I did anyway because,
hell, I couldn’t take out the damn slug with her clothes on her back.”

“What happened?” Duel asked.

“Nothing. And I mean absolutely nothing. She was hurt.”

“Travis?”

“Nothing
happened…then,” Travis said. “I was too damn mad to…for anything else.”

“Why?”

“Not only had she taken a bullet meant for me, but she’d
had the crap beat outta her. All the bruises were out of sight. We’d already
been there for three days and Jesus, the bruises. You know? Back, breasts,
chest, ribs, they were the ugliest puke yellow, healing, but still bad. I was
livid, because I’d had no idea. She hadn’t said a word.”

Duel frowned. “When did you say this happened?”

“Six years ago. Why? It doesn’t matter anymore. The
bastard who did it to her is long dead.”

“David? Her husband?”

“Yeah. The fuck! I’d kill him myself, if he wasn’t already
food for the worms.”

Duel held up his hands. “Hey. You don’t have to tell me
anything you don’t want to share. Whatever happened between you and Sam is
between you and Sam, but Travis…think about it, old partner. How old is that
kid of hers?”

“Hayley? I don’t know…five…maybe a little older. Why?”

“Any chance she’s your kid?”

“No…I…no. Sam would have told me if I made her pregnant.”

“Would she?”

Travis cursed beneath his breath. “No…I don’t know. But
crap…there’s no way Hayley belongs to me. I was careful.”

“Careful enough?”

“Yeah. Careful enough…I think. Hell, I don’t know. I used
protection, if that’s what you’re asking. Six years? Man, I just don’t think
Hayley’s mine.”

“Maybe you need to find out.”

Travis felt like he’d been pole axed. He stared at his
partner. Duel was about six years his senior, and right now, Travis felt like a
teenager being lectured by his father. “Shit. I…you know…I peeled the damn
condom off and tossed it away…then I…was there again, inside her. No rubber. I
mean…I’d just got off, but I needed…I just wanted to feel her around me without
that damn thing on my dick. But we didn’t finish, not a second time. The
fucking phone rang. What happened with Sam…what happened between us wasn’t
planned. It just happened.”

“Yeah…it just happened. Babies have a way of just
happening too.”

Travis looked at him, blinked. “God, are
you
always careful?”

“Yes. Always. I have no intention of bringing a child into
this world with a woman I don’t love.”

“I never thought...I have to talk to her. Hell, she won’t
even look at me.”

“If you want her to notice you, you’re going to have to do
something to wake her up to the fact you’re alive.” Duel grinned and tested his
ear bud to make sure it was in place. “More than what you’ve already done, that
is.”

“Yeah. I did that once, and she’s hated me ever since.”

“What? Can’t hear you over the music.” Duel cupped his
ear.

“Nothing. I don’t know what the hell to do to get her to
pay me some attention.”

Duel shook his head. “Kiss her, for God’s sake. That
usually grabs a woman’s attention real fast.”

“Kiss…her?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never swapped spit with the woman.”

“Jesus, Duel. Right. Kiss her.”

“Can it,” Duel ordered, “unless you want Sam to know what
you’re up to.”

Samantha reached them and heaved a long sigh. “Fifte
en
more minutes, guys. Molly will excuse herself. We see her safely to her
quarters, then she’s on her own. We return to the party and act as if
everything’s normal, stick around for another half hour, then we’re outta here.
We
uh—
”