Tanner's Scheme (3 page)

CHAPTER 2

She didn’t go home. Scheme couldn’t bear the thought of the electronic listening devices scattered in her home, or the knowledge that her father had finally begun to suspect that his daughter was his greatest enemy.

That was the only answer. He had her home swept for listening devices weekly, and had been claiming none were present. But the small handheld device Jonas had given her proved differently.

She checked into her favorite hotel instead. As she followed the bellboy to the executive suite, a wave of weariness washed over her. She shouldn’t have attended the party. Staying as far from Tanner Reynolds as possible would have been her safest bet. Unfortunately that particular Breed was her weakness. Not that she had ever been as close to him as she had been tonight. She had watched him from afar, studying his press releases and watching every interview and news program he was a part of. But until tonight, she had never pitted her own wit against him.

Bad Scheme. A smile tugged at her lips. At least she knew her libido still worked; after the years it had remained silent, uninterested, she had wondered.

“Here you go, Miss Tallant.” The bellboy inserted the key card and pushed the door open as he carried her small suitcase and laptop in.

He moved through the room, turning on the lights and setting her laptop on the desk before heading to the bedroom with her suitcase.

Seconds later he reappeared, a smile creasing his lips.

“We’re very pleased to have you with us tonight. Is there anything room service can get you before I leave?”

“Not at the moment, thank you.” She accepted the key card from him with a brief smile of thanks and a hefty tip. “I’ll be fine for now.”

Left alone in the well-lit suite, Scheme looked around the sitting room with a sense of unreality. Why the hell was she here? And where the hell was Jonas?

Pushing her fingers through her hair, she moved to the door, engaged the security locks and then moved to the bedroom.

Scheme opened her small luggage bag and pulled a pair of velvet lounging pajamas from inside. She tossed them to the bed, then reached back, pulled the zipper of the dress free and stepped from it.

She needed a shower; then she had to contact Jonas. If she didn’t contact him soon, then everything she had worked for in the past years was going to go to hell.

If it hadn’t already.

She couldn’t discount Tanner’s sudden appearance on the scene. After years of playing a subtle cat-and-mouse game, he had finally met her face-to-face, revealing a very tempting reason for suddenly confronting her.

Desire.

She grimaced at the thought as she adjusted the shower and stepped beneath the stinging spray.

Desire on her part, perhaps. He had always held a certain fascination for her. One she had never truly managed to deny herself. And he would know that. As manipulative, calculating and deceitful as he was, he would never have approached her for desire alone. He was up to something more. He knew something.

That made Tanner doubly dangerous. It meant he had inside information, information that possibly only the Breed spy for the Tallant organization could have gotten.

She closed her eyes as the water pelted over her face. It was too coincidental, and she didn’t believe in coincidence. The very night she had attempted to meet with Jonas and he wasn’t where he had agreed to be? He wouldn’t have missed that meeting if it were safe. Which meant he could have suspected the spy working within Sanctuary would be there.

Could it be Tanner?

That sucked too. It sucked because it would have been much simpler and much more enjoyable for her if he were just who he was supposed to be. Sanctuary’s playboy. The loyal public relations genius that had nations clamoring to help the Breeds.

She would contact Jonas tonight and arrange another meeting. There was no staying within her father’s organization, not once he managed to discover who had disabled the message relay machine the night before. Her life was hanging by a thread and she knew it.

“Stupid. Stupid,” she muttered as she hurriedly finished showering.

She had taken one look at the message that had come in, and she had panicked.

Plans in place. First child will be taken within fourteen days. Prepare exit.

Scheme had immediately contacted Jonas for pickup, then tried to erase her presence on the machine, but she knew she hadn’t done so effectively. She hadn’t had time. After her father had picked up the message from his spy, unaware she had seen it first, Scheme had known she had to run and do so quickly. Once Jonas had this information, Callan’s son David would have a shield around him that no one could penetrate. And then her father would know what she had done. Because the cameras in the office would have placed her as the only other person in the office that day.

If her father managed to take the first known naturally born Breed, then the Breeds would retaliate with savage force. Which she knew her father would be gleefully looking forward to. It was his chance to rebuild his reputation with the Genetics Council. In one move he could acquire a first-generation naturally conceived Breed and, at the same time, cause the Breeds to attack in a way that would definitely turn world opinion against them. She had bought herself some time by sabotaging the message relay system. There would be no way of telling when the data processor had been corrupted—at least not for a while—or who had corrupted it. The cameras in the office would show nothing but her working diligently at the computer for several hours. Until they managed to get into the relay systems log-in files, she was safe.

Breathing out in frustration, she rinsed before wrapping her hair tightly in a towel and drying off her body. Half an hour later, her hair was more or less dry, her body was lotioned, smooth and softly scented.

Checking the wristwatch she had laid on the bathroom counter, she calculated the chances of contacting Jonas before midnight. The man kept some very odd hours. He hadn’t answered his cell phone all evening, and he hadn’t returned the coded messages she had left despite the message she had sent earlier to his personal relay system within his office. Something was very wrong here, and the potential for her death was rising.

Scheme tightened the towel around her body and moved purposely toward the sitting room. Then, she came to an abrupt stop. Directly in front of Tanner, who lounged on the overstuffed couch facing her.

Jacketless, the top buttons of his dress shirt undone, his golden eyes darkening in lust, the Bengal moved with deceptive laziness, pulling himself to his feet as his gaze moved slowly over her scantily covered body.

“Well, you are persistent,” she murmured, her fingers moving to tighten on the tuck of the towel at her breasts.

His gaze licked over the swell of her breasts above the towel as her nipples tightened, rasping against the material.

It was instant, her response to him. Her nipples tightened violently, her clit instantly came to life and a damp warmth glazed the folds of her sex.

“You didn’t return to your home,” he said softly, his voice rumbling erotically. “Why a hotel instead?”

She arched her brow. “Perhaps I’m expecting company.”

“So why not in your own home?” he asked her again. “Most women prefer to have sex in their own beds. A form of intimacy, I believe.” His lips quirked with endearing male charm.

“Perhaps the intimacy isn’t what I’m after.” She shrugged, turning back to the bedroom to dress in the lounging pajamas rather than conducting this conversation in a towel.

And she really didn’t relish the thought of dying naked. If he were there to kill her, she’d just as soon be dressed, thank you very much.

As she moved to close the louvered door between the rooms, a broad hand pushed it open and Tanner’s hard male body leaned against the door frame.

“I have a feeling letting you out of my sight might be a very bad idea right now.” His gaze flicked over her again. “You don’t have to dress on my account. You’ll just be removing the clothing later.”

“Oh, certain of yourself, aren’t you?” She arched her brows mockingly but moved to the bed anyway.

Some imp of scandalous amusement filled her. Dropping the towel, she ignored him as she picked up the violet silk and lace thong and pulled it over it her legs.

She dressed casually, convincing herself that being naked in front of him didn’t affect her, though she knew better.

The soft, light, velvet sleeveless lounging top came next. Pulling it over her head, she let her gaze connect with his and nearly lost her breath.

His eyes were glittering with hungry lust now, stroking over her high breasts before the material dropped over them. Picking up the loose bottoms, she inserted one leg, then the next, before pulling them on, feeling his gaze on her flesh almost as clearly as she would have a physical touch.

“You know I can smell your arousal.” He did a growly thing with his voice that had shivers racing up her spine. “Why bother to dress?”

“Are you hungry?” She ignored the question. “I was about to call down for room service.”

“Oh, I’m hungry,” he murmured. “But I don’t think food is going to still my particular appetite.”

Her womb flexed, spasmed. For a moment, regret sliced through her so heavily that it nearly stole her breath. Another place, another time, she could have enjoyed the byplay, the sensual threat. She was a woman who enjoyed the chase, the thrust and parry before the foreplay moved to the bedroom.

She had enjoyed it until Chaz had taught her how very deceptive it could be. Until she had learned the pure evil that inhabited her father’s heart when he destroyed her unborn child, and how easily Chaz had aided him.

Sexual byplay was now a threat. No matter how enjoyable. No matter how tempting.

“Food is the only offer being made. At the moment,” she informed him, allowing a small smile to tip her lips as she gazed up at him through the screen of her lashes. “Are you particular or do you trust me to order?”

She moved for the doorway, intending to move between him and the frame.

“Why the game?” His hand caught her upper arm. “You want to be in that bed with me as much as I want to be there.”

The touch was soft, light; the only restraint it evoked was that of her own response to him. She slammed to a stop, staring at the strong fingers curving around her flesh.

“What I want, and what I allow myself, Mr. Reynolds, are rarely the same thing,” she warned him tightly. “Restraint builds character. Perhaps you should try it.”

“Too bad it doesn’t build honor and decency,” he retorted as he released her arm, following her into the sitting room.

“I’ve actually heard it does.” Her lips twitched in amusement. “The good sisters at Our Lady’s Academy assured me it would strengthen those qualities in me.”

While they were laying the strap to her back.

“Ah yes, Our Lady’s Academy,” he mused. “You were expelled, yes?”

“I was.” And it was a very fond memory. “The good sisters there decided I was a lost cause that even they couldn’t save.”

Her father hadn’t been nearly as understanding as she had hoped he would be. The healing bruises from the nuns’ beatings had been added to exponentially. It had taken her weeks to recover.

“Are you a lost cause, Scheme?”

She turned to him, wondering at the sudden somber vein in his voice as she tried to match it to the almost angry glint in his eye.

“Completely,” she answered quickly, honestly. “Really, Tanner, you seem disappointed. Did you expect anything less?”

Punching the button for room service, she ordered a selection of meats, cheese and bread, and her favorite wine. If Tanner was here to kill her after he fucked her, then she was going to enjoy her last meal.

After hanging up, she moved to the balcony doors. Sliding the curtains open, Scheme opened the doors and stepped onto the shadowed expanse of the balcony overlooking D.C. They were twenty floors up, and the view was breathtaking. And she hoped the shadows outside would help to still the nervousness rising inside her.

“I don’t get to stay here often,” she said as she felt him move behind her, crowding her against the railing. “But I love the view. From here, you can feel the pulse of the city below.”

“Why here and not at your home?” he asked her again, the warmth of his breath caressing the shell of her ear.

“You’re tenacious.” Her fingers tightened on the rail as she felt his hands move to her hips. “It’s peaceful here. Almost anonymous.” There were no hidden eyes watching, no malevolent ears dissecting each word, each move she made. Until his arrival, she had been safe here.

She turned, unable to bear the threat of his large body behind her without the benefit of seeing his face. Would he show a shift of expression? A subtle warning tense of his body if he made his move to kill her here?

When she stared up at him, his head tilted to the side and his eyes gleamed oddly in the dim light.

“You think I’m going to kill you?” Sensually full lips curved into an amused grin. “I wouldn’t kill you, Scheme. Fuck the hell out of you, yes. Turn you over to Breed Law, definitely. But I won’t kill you.”

“You can’t turn me over to Breed Law, Tanner.” She sighed as she regarded him calmly. “I haven’t done anything.”

She was a double agent for the Bureau of Breed Affairs. Jonas might be a son of a bitch, but he wouldn’t see her pay for the very crimes she had committed to gain evidence against her father and the Council.

If only she could trust Tanner. If only she were certain he wasn’t her father’s agent, that he would believe her need for asylum and the information she had. She was half tempted to spill her secrets to him and take her chances, but she couldn’t take chances with another child’s life. Not until she knew for certain.

“Your signature is on kill orders, pretty girl,” he whispered, leaning forward to lay his lips against her ear. Wicked incisors scraped over the tender shell. “Pictures of your meetings with several suspected Council members. All we need is the confession of a Council soldier or member to crucify you. Do you think that’s possible?”