The Darkness Beyond (6 page)

“Think about this, Reggie.”

And he kissed her.

W
as it possible to taste a smile? That's what she was sensing as D.J. captured her mouth with his. When she tried to protest, he only deepened the kiss, the velvet-soft glide of his tongue across hers melting away what little resistance she'd been able to muster up.

When was the last time a man had kissed her like it mattered? Maybe never, but right now she could barely process anything. Her brain had shut down, leaving only muddled thoughts of heat and need and want. Her hands dug into the muscles in D.J.'s shoulders and held on for dear life.

If he hadn't wrapped his arms around her, she wasn't sure she'd still be standing. Not when she was pouring every bit of energy she had into giving as good as she got. This was craziness, but sanity was an overrated commodity.

Incredible was the best description, but no ordinary words could come close to what she was feeling. The man was a definite tease. One second he brushed his lips against hers as if he'd never get back to the serious business at hand. Then he gifted her with a series of butterfly-soft kisses, scattering them across her cheeks and forehead, ending at the tip of her nose.

She put a stop to the play by grabbing his face with her hands and dragging his mouth back to hers. He seemed to like that, chuckling and murmuring his approval as he surrendered control to her. God, the man tasted like temptation, a flavor far too rich to possibly be good for her. But just like the ice cream he'd bought her, some things were worth the risk.

Tomorrow she'd run an extra lap to make up for the dessert. She wasn't sure what she'd be able to do to erase the effect D. J. Clayborne was having on her, though. When her feet left the floor as he pressed her back against the wall, her legs instinctively wrapped around his hips. His big hands cupped her bottom and settled her firmly against his body as he rocked against her.

Big mistake! The center of her hunger was in direct contact with the impressive evidence that she wasn't the only one veering out of control. She had to put a stop to this madness. Now, while she still had the strength to resist a complete surrender.

One last taste. She wanted that much, deserved that much. But each second she spent in D.J.'s arms made it that much harder to stop. Finally, she yanked her mouth free from his. “Put me down.”

He slowly did as she'd asked. The sudden separation as he took a half step back hurt, but only on the inside where a shaft of disappointment stabbed right through her heart. D.J. allowed her some distance but kept her safe inside the loose circle of his arms.

His dark eyes stared into hers but gave her no clue as to what he was thinking. Was he feeling regret or triumph? She didn't want to know.

“You need to leave.”

The words sounded breathy and far too indecisive to her own ears. He'd never take her seriously if she didn't sound more like she meant it. She tried again.

“D.J., you
need
to leave. Now.”

He nodded, slowly, as if he was reluctant to believe her. Or maybe, like her, he wasn't processing things very well. She gave his chest a gentle shove, conveying the same thought with action.

His hands dropped to his sides, but the cocky grin was firmly back in place as he walked toward the door.

“Well, I guess that gave us both something to think about. Hope your dreams are good ones.”

Before he left, he stopped and handed her a piece of paper. “Here's my cell phone number. If anything happens to worry you, call me. Don't hesitate, not for a second. Better a false alarm than to let the bastards get you.”

He waited until she nodded and then said, “'Bye, Reggie. It's been a whole lot better than nice.”

Then he was gone.

Okay, that was the stupidest trick he'd ever pulled. Sure, it wasn't the first time a plan had backfired on him, but right now he couldn't think of a single instance that had left him this badly shaken. Jumping in a tub of ice wouldn't be enough to quench this fire.

What the hell had he been thinking?

He had no idea. One taste of her lips and he'd frozen; in fact, one part of his anatomy had definitely been stiffer than the rest. Still was, in fact. If Reggie hadn't called a halt to the fiasco when she did, he would have for the sake of his own sanity.

Maybe he'd started off wanting to get a little of his own back by kissing her. He had to admit knowing she was capable of besting him at his own game smarted a bit. A lot, in fact, but that didn't give him the right to seduce the woman for a little bit of payback.

He was a better man than that. At least he liked to think so. For now, he'd get a room someplace close and crawl into bed. Alone—well, except for the memories of how she'd felt in his arms.

He'd been right about one thing, though. Reggie was hiding one hot little body under all that clothing. She definitely had curves in all the right places.

He almost spun around to head right back up those stairs to her apartment but managed to stop himself. Outside, he drew in a few deep breaths, trying to regain control by clearing his lungs of any lingering vestiges of Reggie's scent.

It didn't work.

He trudged across to where he'd left his truck. Maybe after a few hours' sleep, he'd be better able to decide what to do next. When he opened the door, he risked one last look up at Reggie's apartment. Just as he suspected, she stood outlined in the window, watching him from above. She might think the shadows prevented him from seeing her clearly. She would be wrong about that.

Paladins all had exceptional night vision. His allowed him to see the frown on that luscious mouth and the sadness in those pretty eyes. He could even see the slight tremble in her hand as she waved to him.

Rather than stare, he climbed into the truck and started the engine. When he pulled out of the parking spot, he rolled down his window and waved back. She nodded and stepped back out of sight, leaving him no choice but to drive away.

Alone, as usual.

D.J. seriously hated telephones. Especially ones rude enough to ring at . . . what time was it anyway? He groped on the bedside table looking for his cell phone and squinted at the screen. Okay, the sun was already up. That didn't mean he didn't hate the person on the other end of the line for disturbing his beauty sleep.

He punched the On button. “This better be damned important.”

Devlin's voice was little better than a growl. “Care to explain to me why your worthless ass is parked down in Portland rather than here on duty?”

Oh, crap. He should've checked the number first. Obviously Devlin had finally opened his e-mail and then tracked him by the GPS chip in his cell phone. He sat up and considered his options. Would disconnecting the call be the smart thing to do or the coward's way out? Maybe a little of both. Eventually he'd have to face the music. Might as well hear the opening strains long distance.

“I had business down here. Personal business.”

Silence. Long, heavy silence followed by more of the same. Okay, so Dev wasn't going to make it easy for him. He could try to wait him out, but they both knew who would break first.

“I should've told you I needed some downtime to take care of a problem, Devlin.”

More silence, then a heavy sigh. “Does this particular problem have something to do with whatever has had you acting so twitchy lately?”

D.J. rubbed his forehead, anticipating the headache that was sure to follow this call. “Yeah, it does. I'm doing my best to fix it.”

“Any chance it will blow up in your face?” Devlin didn't sound as angry as he did resigned.

No use lying at this point. “Maybe, but I can't be sure.”

“When you get back, we'll have a long discussion about how you should've handled this, D.J. For now, if anyone asks, you're on personal leave.”

“Thanks.”

One of the knots in his gut eased up. That left only the worry about what the fallout would be for Reggie's brief foray into the Regents' server, not to mention why she'd been hunting for him. Despite her admission that she'd been out to best him at his own game, he sensed there was more to it than that.

“How long will you be gone?”

He'd already decided to stay in Portland for the weekend. Nothing had happened to change that plan, but he decided to build in some leeway for himself. “I should be back by the end of the week at the latest.”

“Okay, but in case you're not?”

“Send the cavalry.”

“Will do. And, D.J., one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Whatever this is, I hope you can fix it permanently. We need you back at a hundred percent. The place isn't the same without you.”

He had no idea how to react to the concern in his friend's voice. Normally Devlin yelled; he didn't coddle.

“I'm trying, Dev. I apologize for running out on you. I promise I'll explain everything.”

“Okay, but watch your back. If you need to stay away longer, call. You know how Trahern gets when he's worried. It's embarrassing when he cries in front of all the guys, and the Others just laugh at him.”

Another deep voice murmured something obscene in the background. D.J. grinned. It had to be Trahern. Damn, he missed the guys. He was so used to seeing them every day.

“See you soon, boss.”

“Yeah, see that you do.”

The phone went silent, but even that small connection with his friends had left him feeling energized and ready to face the day. The only question was, what would be the most productive use of his time?

Now that he had verified that R. Morrison was indeed Reggie, he could dig deeper into her personal business. She'd hate it, but turnabout was fair play. First things first. Shower. Get dressed. Eat breakfast. Then start shoveling.

His day planned, he grabbed his clean clothes and headed for the bathroom.

Saturday morning came way too soon. Reggie kicked her legs free of the twisted knot of blankets, the effort leaving her breathing hard and exhausted before she even got up. Not exactly the way she'd planned to start her day.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she waited for her head to catch up with her body. Finally, she staggered toward the bathroom hoping a splash of cold water would clear some of the cobwebs. The rest would have to wait until she'd brewed her favorite dark roast.

Oh, yeah, that would work. Her mind journeyed back to the previous evening and memories of D. J. Clayborne. The trip was a short one because his image had filled her dreams almost from the second she'd crawled into bed to the moment she woke.

She had no idea where the man was at the moment, but she really hoped he was as thickheaded and grumpy as she was. Luckily she'd set up the coffeepot before turning in for the night. All she had to do was flip a switch and watch the magic elixir drip into the carafe.

While she waited, she booted up her laptop to check her e-mail. A couple of ads that she deleted. For the moment, she skipped the one from her boss probably asking for an update on her investigation. Finally, there was an odd one at the bottom of the list.

She filled her favorite oversize mug with coffee and then doctored it with three spoonfuls of sugar and a dollop of real cream. Yeah, another reason she'd have to add a couple of laps to her morning run.

As she took that first sip of caffeine, her conscience forced her to read Mr. DeLuca's e-mail. Just as she thought, he wanted to know if she'd made any progress, saying he didn't mean to pressure her. He was merely curious.

She could just imagine his reaction if she told him the truth, that she had both good and bad news. The good news was that the target had shared Chinese with herself and Cody last night, and his name was D. J. Clayborne. The bad news? She had no idea where he lived, where he was, or what she was going to do about the fact that she didn't want to turn him in. She hadn't wanted to from the beginning, but now . . .

Darn it anyway, she really liked her job. It would be a shame to lose it over a man she'd never see again. Rather than focus on that dismal possibility, she pulled up the next e-mail. She read it once and then read it again.

It was short and to the point:
If you want to know the truth about the Paladins, meet me for coffee. You pick the time and the place, and I'll be there.

No signature. The e-mail originated from a free account, which meant the sender could be anyone, anywhere. Granted, if the sender really wanted to meet with her, the person would have to be close by. She shivered. Did the sender really know where she was? If so, how? Not that it mattered. After all, D.J. had managed to find her even though she'd covered her tracks. Or maybe this e-mailer was waiting for her to pick a rendezvous spot that would at least reveal the city she lived in.

She let the cursor hover over the Reply button, but then chickened out. This was too big a decision to make without some serious thought and maybe a bowl of cereal under her belt. When she sat down at the kitchen counter, she spied the piece of paper D.J. had left with his number on it.

He'd told her to call him if anything of concern happened. Was this what he was talking about? Obviously her mystery sender knew something about the Paladins or at least was pretending to. Her logical mind told her that the whole idea was pure bunk. Secret warrior societies didn't exist.

Right?

But if that was true, why had D.J. gone out of his way to warn her not to pursue the subject any further? Maybe Brenna Nichols's paper was written in code, the real facts hidden behind the fictional world she'd described. That still didn't feel right, but Reggie had read the paper only once.

She shuffled through the pile of reports on her makeshift desk until she unearthed the printout. The stack of pages had her grinning, a reminder that she and D.J. definitely had a lot in common. No wonder he'd known that she'd not only made a hard copy of the report but had also saved it to her flash drive.