Quicksand (8 page)

"And give you the FBI presence you want in Clayborne Forest. I'll see what I can do." Venable hung up.

Montalvo put away his phone and got out of the car and moved toward the forest. He didn't doubt Venable would do everything he could. He was smart and experienced and the bribe Montalvo had dangled in front of him would be tempting enough to be nearly irresistible. In the meantime, he'd do a little scouting of his own and hope those nervous deputies didn't take potshots at him. He could feel his pulse begin to quicken as his gaze fastened on the trees. Kistle was there. He wasn't trying to run. He was waiting. The prey was armed and dangerous and wanted to kill the hunter. It was the game Montalvo liked most. He couldn't blame Miguel for being disappointed that he'd made him stay at the hotel. Miguel understood the game.

And so did Joe Quinn, he thought suddenly.

Quinn had felt the same heady excitement Montalvo was feeling. He had seen it in his expression this afternoon. They were alike in that, if nothing else.

Except for their feelings for Eve. Yet even in that emotion they could not be more different. Quinn was the keeper of the castle, familiar with every battlement, and had the advantage of a passionate desire to keep what was his. Montalvo was the enemy at the gates who had nothing to lose and everything to win.

And Kistle might be the battering ram that would be the deciding weapon. He melted into the shrubbery and began moving toward the distant trees.

Come on, Kistle. Let's get this battle started.

VENABLE LEANED BACK IN HIS
chair after he'd hung up his phone. Dammit, Montalvo was twisting his arm and he wanted to tell him to go take a hike. If there was one thing he hated, it was getting into jurisdictional squabbles with other law enforcement agencies. It made him look ruthless and antagonized the organization he was riding roughshod over. He didn't want to make an enemy of the boys at Quantico. In his world you never knew when you were going to need a favor. Montalvo shouldn't have put him in this position.

Nortano's weapons cache.

God, he wanted to clean that bastard out. Nortano had been a thorn in the Colombian government's side for years and Venable's agents would have a safer path if he could be removed.

And if Montalvo said he'd give him the information, he would do it. He'd never reneged on a bargain in the years he'd known him.

Okay, the decision was made. He had to have Nortano's cache. How to go about getting it without obviously compromising the Company's jurisdiction?

Bobby Joe Windlaw. Find his body. Montalvo was right: if the kid had been murdered, then he had an excuse to draw the FBI back into the picture. If Bobby Joe had drowned, Montalvo would still have to agree that Venable had completed his part of the bargain. All right, how to find Bobby Joe. Think. Make a plan. Keep it from looking like interference. He'd done this kind of sleight of hand before. It was just more difficult on U.S. soil. He'd call in any favors he could draw on and beg, borrow, and steal if he had to. Now who could do the job in the way he wanted it done?

He suddenly stiffened in shock in his chair as the answer came to him. "Holy shit." He reached for his phone.

FIVE

"DO YOU MIND IF I USE YOUR
bathroom?" Joe asked Eve after the door had closed behind them. "I need to clean up. You don't want me touching anything in this room. I've been out in the woods all day."

"Go ahead." Eve watched him as he moved across the bedroom. "But I thought it might be your bathroom too. You're not staying with me?"

"I've got a room on the next floor." Joe turned on the water faucet. "It will be more convenient."

Eve stood in the bathroom doorway watching him as he took off his shirt and began to scrub.

"Convenient for what?"

"I'll be in and out at all hours of the day and night. I don't want to disturb you."

"What the hell do you mean? I
am
disturbed. Every minute of the day and night I'm going to be disturbed until Kistle is caught. Do you expect me to sleep peacefully just because you've decided to barricade yourself in your own room?"

"I thought it best." He took the towel and began to dry off. "You're upset enough without me—"

"Bullshit," she said. "Get rid of that towel and talk to me. You've been closing me out since you got on that plane to come here. Disturbed? You're the one who's ready to explode. You can't even look at me."

"Oh, I can look at you." He threw the towel away. "But I don't want to talk. Tell me what I want to do, Eve."

His dark hair was tousled and his brown eyes were glittering in his taut face. He was half naked and his shoulders gleamed under the lights. His body was lean and tough and sleek with muscle. She could feel his tenseness, which was like a bolt of electricity. Lord, it was striking at her, stroking her, readying her. "I'm not sure," she said unevenly. "Sex. But do you want to make love to me or do you want to rape me?"

"When have I ever raped you?"

"Never. But then I've never seen you in a mood like this."

"I've never been in a mood like this." He started toward her. "And I may be rough. I don't know if I can help myself. So if you don't want me, tell me now."

He wasn't touching her, but she could feel the heat move through her. It was a mindless response. They were so far apart emotionally that she should try to ignore it and try to talk to him.

She didn't want to talk. She wanted to be mindless and only move, feel, be close to him. No matter what else lay between whenever they came together, the sex was always fantastic. He was standing only a few inches away from her. She could feel the warmth of his body flowing, surrounding her. Yet she was still aware of violence held at bay. He looked into her eyes. "Tell me."

She slowly reached out and touched his bare chest. His skin felt fever-hot to her palm. A shudder went though him. "Eve."

"I do want you." She took a step closer and laid her cheek on his chest. His heart was pounding hard beneath her ear. "I always want you, Joe. Stop worrying about being rough with me. I can take care of myself."

"I don't want you to take care of yourself. I want to be there to meet every need. I've never wanted anything else since the day I met you." His hands were hovering over her shoulders, still not touching her. "And when I can't do it, I go crazy."

She felt an aching deep within her. She couldn't take it. She cleared her throat. "Well, you're driving me crazy now. If you want to address a need, I have one that's very urgent." He was silent a moment. "Yeah, that's a problem I can usually fix, can't I?" His hovering hands fell to cup her shoulders. "Hooray for sex." He pushed her away from him and she could see the bitterness mixed with the desire in his face. "I may not have killed your dragon for you yet, but I can entertain you."

Dragon? What the hell was he . . .?

Then she forgot everything as his fingers quickly unbuttoned her shirt and slipped inside to cup her breasts. She arched backward with a low cry.

"Bed," he said thickly. "Now." He was tearing off her clothes. Backing her toward the bed. "I have to—"

He was over her on the bed, shedding the rest of his clothes and recklessly casting them aside. Beautiful, she thought hazily. She'd always thought Joe was beautiful naked. Lean and muscular and full of repressed energy.

Not repressed any longer.

Fierce. Desperate. And, yes, rough.

To hell with it. It didn't matter. Her nails dug into his back as she pulled him to her. She'd meet fierceness with fierceness, roughness with roughness . . .

"ARE YOU OKAY?" JOE'S CHEST
was lifting and falling with the harshness of his breathing as he looked down at her. "Did I hurt you?"

"I've no idea." She couldn't catch her breath. "If you did, it didn't make an impression through the . . . " Through what? The maze of wild erotica that was almost animalistic? "I didn't care." Joe got off her and rolled over to the other side of the bed. He tucked his arm beneath his head. "I care. I lost control. I knew it would happen."

"If I hadn't wanted it, I'd have walked away." Eve pulled up the sheet. "Now come over here and cuddle me. I'm not having this separate-sides-of-the-bed business. That's not the way we do it and we're not going to start now."

"I should go up to my room and unpack."

"Bullshit." She rolled over and pressed her body against him. "Hold me." He hesitated and then put his arm around her and drew her close. "It could happen again."

"Good. But not right now. I want to get my breath before the next storm." She pressed her lips to his shoulder. "Why are you fighting me, Joe?" she whispered. "You held me like this not four days ago. I thought everything was getting all right between us."

"Did you? I didn't. I knew that it was only a matter of time before it blew up in our faces." He brushed his lips over her forehead. "It was only a question of when I got word about Kistle. I knew that would be the trigger."

"It wouldn't have made any difference if you'd just not closed me out. We would have worked through it together. That's what we've done all these years."

He shook his head. "I can't do that any longer."

She stiffened and then sat up and looked down at him. "That sounds final. Are you trying tell me something, Joe?"

"I'm trying to tell you that I've changed and the way I'll react will be different."

"I see." She swung her legs to the floor and stood up. "Then I'd better find out what to expect, hadn't I?" She slipped on her terry robe and sat down in the easy chair across the room. She drew a deep breath. "Was it Colombia, Joe?"

"You mean Montalvo? He brought a few things to a head. But it's been going on long before you went to Colombia. We both knew you were slipping away from me. I couldn't seem to stop it. I didn't even know why it was happening." He stood up and started putting on his clothes. "I blamed it on you. Then I blamed it on Montalvo."

"I never slept with Montalvo, Joe. I'd never be unfaithful to you."

"But you told me you wanted to do it."

"You asked me, I'd never lie to you. I don't know why he had that effect on me. I felt close to him because he'd suffered the same loss and then it just became . . ." She wearily shook her head. "You know I haven't had much experience with that kind of sexual attraction. The kid who got me pregnant with Bonnie when I was sixteen and then disappeared? I believe you're the love of my life, but evidently that doesn't mean that I'm totally immune to feeling something for others." She stared him in the eye. "But I'm not going to apologize. I didn't do anything to hurt you but tell you the truth. I treated our relationship with honor."

"I know that." He smiled crookedly. "And I don't blame Montalvo for trying to snatch the gold ring. I'd do the same thing. But it doesn't stop me from hating his guts. I'm too primitive to do anything else." He shrugged into his jacket. "But blame is something else. The only reason I blamed either of you was that I didn't want to blame the person who rules our lives. I knew my chances weren't good of ever being able to fight Bonnie."

She stared at him. "You don't have to fight Bonnie. We only have to find her."

"I'm doing my damnedest. But what if it isn't Kistle? What if we don't find Bonnie? I don't know how many more times I can stand by and watch you be disappointed. Every time it makes me die a little." He paused. "And sometimes it makes me wish Bonnie had never been born."

She recoiled as if he'd struck her. "No."

"I realize that's a terrible sin to you. I can't help it. You love her. You know her. But she died before I met you. Maybe if I'd gotten to know her I wouldn't feel this bitterness. I used to try to feel some of the affection you feel for her because she was part of you. I thought it would help me go on with this hellish search. But I can't feel anything for her but pity." His lips tightened. "And lately when I see what's happening to you, I can't even feel that."

"How can you feel like that? She's innocent. She's the victim, Joe . . ."

"See, I'm hurting you again. God, I don't want to do that. I'm trying to work it out, but it's hard. I just hope to God it was Kistle who killed Bonnie. We have to put an end to this."

"You could put an end to it," she said unsteadily. "You're worried about hurting me? My God, how I'm hurting you. I told you once I was damaged and obsessed and you should leave me. Maybe you're beginning to realize that."

"No way." He headed for the door. "I can't leave you. You're my center. We just have to find a way to survive."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to my room, shower, and get a few hours' sleep. Then I'm going to go back to Clayborne Forest. I'd bet Montalvo's already there."

"He's supposed to be here tomorrow morning, you said."

He nodded. "But he won't be wasting time. He has his eye on the prize."

"You mean Kistle?"

"Kistle's no prize, he's the target." He opened the door. "I'll see you in the morning, Eve." She had to blink back stinging tears as the door shut behind him. So much raw pain had been in his expression when he had spoken about Bonnie. She had never wanted to cause Joe pain. He had been her rock, her lover, and her friend. He didn't deserve to be unhappy. She had been shocked by his bitterness about Bonnie, but she couldn't condemn it. Of course he couldn't love a child he'd never known. It was a wonderful thing that he'd fought so hard with Eve all these years to find her.

Yet she felt a twinge of loneliness that she couldn't share with him the love she felt for Bonnie.

And a sudden fear that she would have to choose between them or watch him walk out of her life.

Panic surged through her and she instantly rejected the thought.

Not yet. They could still work their way through this. The only positive thing was that they had both been totally honest with each other. Joe had given her hints of what he was feeling, but she had never believed him to be this close to a blowup. It had been Kistle who had set him off. But it could also be Kistle who saved them.

If Kistle had killed Bonnie. If they could catch him. If he could be forced to tell where she was.