Share the Darkness

Share the Darkness Jill Monroe Soaring heat, deepening darkness, unstoppable desire! On the run from a man who wants her dead, Hannah’s learned to keep to herself. She’s always felt safe in the dark, the perfect hiding place. Then she met Ward Cassidy. Being around her sexy co-worker has awakened a need she’d forgotten. But Hannah’s afraid to get too close to this deeply gorgeous FBI agent – until a heatwave engulfs the city and a blackout traps the pair for one long, lustful night.Now determined Ward won’t let their attraction die and Hannah has nowhere to hide! “It’s hard to know what you’re feeling in here, it’s so dark.” A chuckle from deep in Ward’s chest filled the lift. “Oh, believe me, I know what I’m touching.” Pure desire raced through her. Hannah quickly returned to patting the floor. She needed that blouse now for more than the ruse of being chilled. She needed protection against the potent, sexual promise of Ward. And her own need to be very, very naughty. Their fingers entwined as they found her blouse at the same time. He trailed his hand up her arm to rest at her shoulder. All his other touches had been accidents. But not this one. Hannah couldn’t move away. She hadn’t purposely touched another person sexually in over four years. But here it was dark. Ward would never see her body. Never see what she had to hide. The dark had become her favourite companion, and now it would give her something else. A chance to feel, if only briefly, like a woman again. Every function in her body stilled. Waited. Then Ward’s lips covered hers. SHARE THE DARKNESS BY JILL MONROE www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) This book is dedicated to Jenn Stone and Donnell Epperson – your continued good health is my greatest wish! As always, I’d like to thank my family, for their endless encouragement and for overlooking dust, stacks of paper and more fast-food meals than home-cooked ones. I’ll try to do better, Mom! Special thanks to my editor, Jennifer Green, whose ideas and suggestions are always spot-on. You rock! Thanks also to Brenda Chin for giving Sharethe Darkness Honourable Mention in the Blaze contest and encouraging me to write past those first ten pages. Thanks to Kimberly Whalen. May this be the first of many! For my critique partners: Kassia Krozser, Gena Showalter, Linda Rooks, Angi Platt and Beth Cornelison – thanks for the red ink. And to Jennifer, Karen, Maggie, Traci, Sheila, Amanda and Betty – I can’t imagine better friends. Go, Wet Noodle Posse! 1 WARD CASSIDY could think of better uses for an ice cube. Although the way Hannah Garrett rolled the ice along her skin to cool the slope of her gorgeous neck still topped his list. He sucked in a breath as a droplet of water slowly ran past the inviting underside of her chin and slid down her throat, weaving a path along her collarbone and disappearing into the tantalizing area below. Tantalizing because he hadn’t thought of much else other than Hannah or her breasts since he’d gotten this awful assignment in the hottest place next to hell. He liked his ice cold, and his women hot. And Hannah would make an ice cube melt in Siberia. Now she was lifting up her red curly hair and rubbing the cube on the back of her neck. Next to hell? He was in hell. Why’d his office have to face the break room? The multiline telephone on his desk beeped an annoying jingle. Why couldn’t phones just ring? The electronic chimelike sound literally tap-danced on his nerves. Just then Hannah put the ice cube in her mouth and sucked. Desire shot through him as his mind conjured up images of those generous lips of hers surrounding him. His knuckles tightened around the cool plastic phone handle. But nothing could chill his white-hot arousal. The phone chimed again, and he almost flung the damn thing across his desk. Whoever was daring to interrupt his stint as voyeur could take a train ride to hell. Or right here next to him in Gallem. The heat was probably about the same. He took a deep breath. Get it together. Ward Cassidy, federal officer of the law, turned his chair with slow deliberation away from the break room where Hannah was perfecting her “cooling off” techniques. Instead he concentrated on the view outside his window. He centered on the grass, parched just as he was. The office air conditioner couldn’t chug out enough cold air to contend with the heat. He was acting a fool. Hannah was just a woman trying not to sizzle in the offices of Protter and Lane Investment Banking. And here he was taking his frustrations out on a poor defenseless telephone. He lifted the handle before the damn thing could ring a third time, just barely remembering to use his cover name. “Coleman here.” A few clicks echoed in the background, and he im mediately went on alert. “We’re on a secure line.” “I’ll shut the door.” Ward stood and closed the door, welcoming the barrier. A lot of good it did, a huge picture window still gave him a prime view of the break room. He picked up the phone again. Ward recognized the voice of his friend and former partner at the Bureau. A few years ago, his colleague, Brett Haynes, was one of the best field agents. Now he was permanently desked after choosing the wife and family route over adventure and danger. Poor guy. Good. Another person he could take his frustrations out on. Ward resisted his urge to laugh out loud. “Why wouldn’t the line be secure? The security around here is so lax any ten-year-old with low speed Internet access could hack into this place.” Brett’s chuckle was loud and clear. In disgust, Ward angled his chair away from the window. Still his eyes once again drifted back to the break room. He gritted his teeth. Hannah hadn’t left. Neither had the ice cube. Although a human resources memo to employees had given permission to wear shorts in the office during the heat wave, Hannah’s legs remained encased in pants. She didn’t have a problem leaving her arms bare, though. She now ran the ice cube up the gentle curve of her bicep, then down the soft skin of her… He knew her skin would be soft. He imagined his lips following such a path. Starting at her wrist, tracing his tongue on the delicate skin of her forearm, stopping only long enough to lick her inner elbow before… I’m losing my mind. “You gotta pull me from this assignment.” “Can’t. You really pissed off the boss lady with that stunt you pulled on your last case.” His lips twitched into a slow smile. “The bad guys are in prison, aren’t they?” “I think it’s more like how they got there. Dragging two prisoners who’ve been hiding in the swampland of Louisiana for two weeks through Director James’s office is not the best method for career advancement.” “She said I could never bring in the big ones. I wanted to show her that I could, to look good for the boss.” “Ha. You looked worse than they did. Forget it. You’ll be in Gallem until this case is put to bed. Which shouldn’t take too long with your skills. Any rookie could nail it.” Damn, why did he have to put it that way? When he thought nail, he only thought of… Hannah was blotting her skin with a paper towel. Rubbing the thin paper along the column of her throat. He almost growled. He almost shouted at her to stop. “I expect we’ll be hitting the eighteenth hole by the end of the week.” “You’d be surprised. I’ve been thrown a few curves,” Ward said. “You? Nah. Actually, the reason why I called was to let you know the field office is sending me there for a check.” “No wife? No kid?” “Just you, me and a beer.” Ward angled back in his chair as he watched Hannah ball the paper towel and lob it toward the trash can. “Now, that’s the best offer I’ve had in two weeks.” “The ladies of Gallem not lining up at your door? You must be losing your touch.” He spotted Hannah’s slim, sexy form pass by the small window of his door. No friendly wave, no courtesy smile from one employee to another. Yeah, she didn’t like him. For the first time today he felt a chill. “Having a dry spell.” The show was over. Ward sat straight in his chair, and checked out the employee files. “Is Grace hassling you about leaving? After all, that’s why you took that desk job.” “It’s just an overnighter, and I think she’s actually looking forward to me being out of her hair for a bit.” “Great. Come by the office Saturday, and I’ll introduce you to corporate hell.” Ward replaced the receiver. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his black, spiral-bound notepad. Research telephone ring. He flipped the pad closed, and returned it to his pocket. Maybe he could find the phone’s manufacturer on the Web tonight at his rental. Case or no case, some things had to come first. He’d learned his lesson. He’d get this little situation solved, criminals would be deposited in jail cleanly, and he’d do what he could to get back on James’s good side. He knew she couldn’t hold a grudge against him for too long. After all she’d mentored him since he left the Marines to join the Bureau. He knew he’d really pissed the top lady off, parading those men through her office. But was it worth this? As the newly hired security chief at P&L, he had an office to himself. He didn’t know who to thank for that small favor. Outside stood rows and rows of battered metal desks without a single cubicle divider. How could the bankers get anything done? At some point, the walls had been painted a hue between blue and green. Why, he could only guess. The whole place buzzed with nonstop corporate team building. If he heard one more inspiring little snippet over the office speaker, he’d cut the wires himself. As if the framed motivational posters weren’t bad enough. The FBI had lucked out when Arvest Lane had created the security position in the Gallem office. Over the course of the last six months, someone had been manipulating government money through P&L. Straight into a nice little offshore account. Uncle Sam didn’t like people to steal his money. Neither did Ward. Finding the culprit wouldn’t be difficult. Just very, very time consuming with lots of paperwork. Yeah, James really knew how to turn the screws. A week ago, Ward moved into the position, and no one in P&L knew his real identity. For all intents and purposes, he was the security chief, with all the perks, including access to the employee files. He’d read through them a dozen times. Searching for clues. Hannah’s rested on top. He lifted her r?sum? with the tiny photo of her stapled to the corner. The grainy picture was not the best quality. But it didn’t obscure her high cheekbones or the lushness of her full lips. Lips that made a man’s mind wonder. Despite her beauty, her eyes were what always drew him. He wouldn’t call them cold, but a coolness lingered in the green depths. When hounded by the male employees, she was quick with a glare of irritation. That was the only emotion she ever revealed. Yet Hannah’s eyes gave her away. Something…guarded some deep pain tinged those haunting eyes of hers. He planned to ferret out all her secrets. First things first, assess the current situation. He wanted her. And even though they’d rarely made eye contact, he sensed she was attracted to him, and that it bothered her. A lot. A swell of satisfaction infused his gut. He liked the idea of her experiencing the same kind of frustration he did. “Knock, knock.” Ward glanced up to see his office visitor. He never really trusted a man who said knock, knock rather than actually knocking. Dan Protter, the Protter of Protter and Lane, walked through the door. Ward schooled his features, cloaking himself in the persona of Ward Coleman. His new boss more than likely expected a man in charge of security to look, well, secure. Ward did his best to live up to the man’s expectations. In fact, strutting around the office acting macho, fulfilled his own dreams of what a federal agent should be doing. That lonely Marine lying in his bunk all those years ago had no idea that a fed’s life wasn’t so much chasing the bad guy and getting the girls. It was more about tackling a pile of paperwork and wrestling it to the ground. And there would be paperwork to spare with this P&L investigation. But those times he did chase the bad guy made up for it all. The girl never stuck around for long. An odd twinge of disappointment surprised him. Whether the emotion came from the women not staying or the fact that he cared little if they did, he didn’t know. “TGIM, Ward.” Dan handed Ward a coffee cup. “No cream, no sugar.” “Thanks.” Ward never developed a liking for Mondays, or coffee, but he took a swig to satisfy Dan. He swallowed quickly. Coffee had about as much appeal to him as liquid dirt. Still, he did have a cover to keep, and this particular cover required him to act the tough guy. A guy who drank his coffee strong, preferably with the grounds still in. Dan angled himself off Ward’s desk. He sensed his new boss liked being around him. Ward’s presence more than likely added a bit of danger in Dan’s dully familiar world of investment banking. “I’ve gone over the new security measures you suggested,” Dan said. Though Ward’s job was a means to an end, how could he leave here without implementing a few security procedures? He had standards, and leaving this particular job undone defied his sense of professionalism. Dan, and the rest of the investment firm, would luck out. “The ID badges and password protection will work. But the new alarm system…we’ve got to keep our eye on the budget. Perhaps with a few well-written memos to the teams. Last year we left little notices in the break room. That solved the old food in the refrigerator problem quite nicely.” The various employees would be forever in Ward’s debt if he prevented even one of P&L’s infamous memos. He resisted the urge to ball his fists and forced a smile instead. “Dan, I’ve found the back door propped open twice now with a smashed soda can. The supply-room door is never shut and almost every employee in this office has a key to the outside fire door.” “We prefer team members. Remember, a sand castle is only as strong as every grain.” Good thing he’d already swallowed his coffee. He gestured outside his door with his cup. “There are over thirty team members out there who could care less about the half mil you’ve got socked away in equipment and supplies. An alarm and key card system is the only sure way of monitoring entry.” “Let’s try the memo first.” Ward squared his shoulders ready to press his point. The leather from his shoulder holster poked him in the blade as he moved, reminding him why he was really here. He settled back against the soft fabric of the executive chair. He sure didn’t have anything like this kind of comfort in his office at the Bureau. Ward relaxed his shoulders. It wasn’t as if this was his real job. No need to get worked up. If P&L wanted to open the window and strew cash bills into the wind, hey, it was their call. Ah, but then this might actually settle out to his advantage. An idea popped into his head. “Why don’t I meet with everyone on an individual basis? I’m new, and that would give me an opportunity to introduce myself, and share with each team member the importance of security.” “Good idea. We’ll have a memo sent around right after lunch. Time to make some money.” Dan picked up his coffee cup and left. Ward shook his head. He’d read up on Dan Protter before arriving. The man could make money the way other men made a mess in the sink. No effort and little worry. His problem was spending it. He had that fuzzy, can’t-be-bothered-with-the-details genius about him. It made him the perfect victim. Good thing for Protter that Arvest Lane, based in Dallas, handled the administrative details of the partnership. The man was almost as bad as James in the paperwork department. There were tons of forms, often in triplicate. Ward guessed it was to make up for all the time without anyone in charge of security. No wonder someone had taken to laundering money through Protter and Lane. The place was a security disaster waiting to happen. Since arriving in Gallem, he decided on two goals, find the pilferer and get to someplace cooler, like the equator. Dan Protter had no clue, but Ward’s initial investigation indicated an inside job. That was why he was here. And in most criminal cases, it all boiled down to the old saying…follow the money. Once he discovered the source of the money, that would lead him to the big crime. He just hoped James would let him have a crack at it once he completed this part of the investigation. He wouldn’t get that shot if he kept his mind on ice cubes. Or the sexy woman who ran them along her skin. Ward returned his attention to the files on his desk with deliberation. Working frequently undercover, he was a man used to calculated focus. He forced his eyes not to return to Hannah’s picture, concentrating on the papers contained in the file instead. She worked as a computer programmer. He removed the paper clip, and flipped through the sheets of paper outlining her life. Better than average grades. Member of the computer club. Several part-time jobs while in school. P&L was her third job out of college. Each job gave her added responsibility. He leaned back in his chair and worked the paper clip between his fingers. Something bothered him. He couldn’t place what. Something about Hannah’s tidy r?sum?… He twisted the pliable metal, then scanned the document again. The job didn’t suit her. Computers were all straight lines, numbers and cold machinery. None of that fit with Hannah. Her entire package exuded warm sensuality and curves. And melting ice cubes. The paper clip flicked off his thumb and glanced off the wall. He’d stretched the thing arrow straight. Not unlike him. Ward shifted in his seat to relieve some of the pressure the thought of dripping water added to his anatomy. His lower part. If this were any normal assignment, he’d ask her out. Pursue her like any regular guy with a beating heart. But this wasn’t any average assignment. Not only was Hannah Garrett his object of sexual interest and infinite frustration, she was also his most likely suspect. HANNAH FELT HIS EYES on her again. For a minute, she relished the awareness of him as a man. And her as a woman. Since the new head of security had taken residence in the second corner office, she always seemed to be in his direct line of vision. The heavy sensation of being watched lasted long after she’d left his sight. Her shoulders tensed and her skin prickled just from getting a drink from the break room. One innocent moment of rubbing ice on her neck and…the warmth of a flush entered her cheeks. Just what she needed. More heat. She hadn’t even realized he could see her, but his door faced the little break room where employees stashed their drinks and warmed their food in the microwave. What kind of message did she send with that little display? The last thing she needed was to draw attention to herself. She’d be eating her lunch at her desk from now on. Hannah sensed those sexy, cool green eyes of his missed nothing. Cool until they met hers. Then they misted into the color of the sea before a storm. Dangerous. Yet, she didn’t always want to turn away from the tempest. And that’s where her new apprehension originated. She’d always been able to stamp out the barest hint of…of…she didn’t even have a ready word to describe the feeling. Awareness? No, no, no. Wariness was all she was experiencing. Wariness was a familiar friend. She’d been on the alert for four years now. Sometimes, in the bright, revealing daylight of a lazy Saturday afternoon, she knew it would only be a matter of time before he caught up with her. The welcome of the enveloping night would ease her apprehension. Until the next sunrise. She balled her fist, but resisted the urge to bang her hand on the table. Damn, she had thought she’d be safe in Gallem. The anonymity of the large metropolis promised her a level of freedom. Maybe a chance to have the semblance of a social life. She’d even toyed with the idea of dating or at least shooting for living the life of any normal, twenty-something girl in the city. Hannah ached for that simple measure of security she hadn’t had since she made the decision that changed her life. Security. Her mind reeled back to Ward Coleman. With the ability to perform background checks, his job could be the perfect ruse for someone with an agenda. Someone looking to find her. Anxiety knotted the tiny muscles of her nape. She rolled her head side to side. “Doing office yoga again?” Hannah glanced up to see Dinah Wallace stroll in with her ever-present smile, waving a sheaf of paper. If Hannah were a different kind of person, Dinah would be gal-friend material. The kind to see chick flicks, talk about men and eat ice cream with when the romance turned sour. The kind of friend she yearned to have. But she dared not get too close. One small slipup, and she’d be right back where she started. On the run. She couldn’t afford it. Better to keep to herself. Better to ignore her longing for a good friend. Better to ignore any interest in a man. A man like Ward. A man offering the temptation of double danger. Dinah plopped herself in the metal chair in front of Hannah’s desk. Hannah had specifically chosen that chair so as not to invite lengthy visits to her office. Though the discomfort of the rigid metal seat never seemed to bother, Dinah, the office gossip. “I don’t know why you’re in here eating tuna straight from the can, when you could be draping yourself in some sort of a seductive pose in the break room,” Dinah said. Since Ward’s arrival, Dinah could think of little else other than devising ways to get the man’s attention. Hannah had no intention of diverting the man’s eyes to her. For her safety and sanity. “I’m fine here,” Hannah told her. Dinah knocked on the desk. “Hello. You’re not getting the point. There’s a man across from the break room.” Hannah tried for a casual shrug. “There are lots of guys in the office.” “You made the point yourself. Guy versus man. This one’s all man. I can almost see the muscles rippling under his suit jacket. Muscles he earned doing strapping manly things. He’s no banker in love with his latest investment.” “Not interested.” Hannah picked up her fork, scooped out another bite of tuna and shoved it into her mouth. That should prove her tuna over man point quite nicely. “What a waste. Especially since you’re the only one in the office Mr. Security seems to have any interest in.” The fork slipped through her fingers and banged against her desk with a tattling clang. A tickle of excitement fluttered in her chest. Dinah laughed and graced her with a smug smile. “Yeah, you just blew your cover. Admit it, you’re not so immune to Mr. Green Eyes with the tight—” “No, I’m just surprised is all.” She’d suspected the new security head had been paying a little closer attention to her. Up until now, she mentally filed it under her natural inclination toward suspicion. And to be honest, she tried to convince herself maybe his long stares might indicate a little sexual interest, as well. A tiny thrill of anticipation coursed through her until she tamped it down in a hurry. What sort of luck was this? To finally be attracted to a man who could possibly be here to harm her. His arrival seemed too sudden. His interest in her too immediate. Dinah’s announcement confirmed her acquired inclination to be on alert. She had to play down her clumsy reaction. She forced a tight smile. Maybe it would be to her advantage to let her friend think she found the man attractive. Not much of a stretch. Maybe it would keep Dinah’s suspicions centered on a target Hannah could control better. “Well, I—” “I knew it. I knew you liked him.” Hannah settled against the cushion of her chair, and let her friend take it from there. Dinah crossed her legs and began swaying them in excitement. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. You’re shy. I mean it all fits. You’re the computer gal. You do most of your work from home or on weekends. I’m surprised you’re even here today. You’re not comfortable around men.” Oh, if only Dinah knew the whole of that story. Hannah shifted in her chair. “Even if I were interested in the man, which I’m not, parading myself in the break room is out of the question. It has something to do with decorum.” “Remind me to look that word up in the dictionary later.” Hannah wadded up her napkin and threw it at her friend. “You’re impossible. And I’m not uncomfortable around men. Protter and Lane have a very clear policy on intraoffice dating. I’ve received several memos to the effect.” “Oh, puhleez. I think you’re the only person that doesn’t immediately put those gems in the circular file. And office policy still doesn’t explain your general lack of presence around this place. Not that I can blame you. Take a peek at your office. Where are the pictures? Where’s the dead plant? You don’t have a single doodad on your desk. You’re also the only person who’s left all those silly inspirational sayings on the wall.” “I kind of like them.” Dinah gave her a look somewhere between disbelief and disgust. She pointed to the poster to her left. “It Only Takes One Ember To Make A Blaze? Whatever.” Dinah rolled her eyes, and Hannah couldn’t help but laugh. “When is Protter going to figure out what we really need is a raise? Or maybe just a casual day other than when it’s a thousand degrees outside. I think not wearing hose, and having to visit the dry cleaners every other week is worth the piddly cost-of-living increase he gave us last year.” Hannah hadn’t been at P&L last year. With the tantalizingly dangerous new presence of the head of security, she might not be much longer this year, either. First she needed to redirect Dinah’s thoughts. She tugged the pager off her waistband, and tossed it on the table. “I don’t have to be in the office to do my job. I’m always available. The server pages me when it goes down. Besides, it’s easier for me to do my work at nights and on weekends for one simple reason. You all aren’t here to mess everything up. You take one measly computer class, and you think you can fiddle with the parameters. Settings changed. Passwords lost.” “You’re never going to let me live down the password thing, are you?” “It was three passwords. Three in one day.” Dinah waved the paper at her. “You’re getting me completely off course on the whole reason for my visit. Latest memo from human resources.” Hannah took the paper from her and scanned it. “I’ll leave you to devour the contents later. I’ll just give you the highlights. Boss man has a new decree. Better get over the shy thing with Ward Coleman.” “Why?” “Because later you get to meet with him face-to-face.” 2 WARD KNEW WHEN he was being avoided. A woman avoided a man for only two reasons. She either didn’t want him, or she wanted him bad. Okay, not rocket science, but it had worked since he’d hit nineteen, and managed to figure out a few things about women, other than the obvious. And the obvious was Hannah wanted him B-A-D. She’d also stretched avoidance to Olympic proportions. It didn’t take a federal agent to spot the ducking-intoa-doorway routine. Two could play. In fact, one of Ward’s favorite pastimes was toying with the bad guy. Or in this case, girl. In the last two days, he’d made a special point of getting in her way. When Hannah poured her morning coffee in the break room, he held the sugar. When she made a few copies, he, being the new guy around, always needed help with the machine. And oh, his password. How many times had he forgotten it? And when he asked for her to write it down, he got a sample of her handwriting as well as her fingerprints. This case should be a piece of cake. One more week to ferret out the culprit, another week or so of tracing all the wire transfers, searching through the files and generally doing all the paperwork he hated. He’d discovered something about investment bankers; they liked a lot of paper. A lovefest of forms. Which meant he’d have to spend a lot of time doing the tedious cataloging of evidence. Ward studied his appointment list. Most of the employees had eagerly met with him to discuss security issues. Except Hannah. But she couldn’t avoid him today, even though she’d signed up for the last possible time slot on the last possible day. Ward glanced at the clock, which indicated he had to wait only another five minutes before his reckoning with Hannah. Anticipation made his muscles tighten. Not much longer and he’d have Hannah all to himself. He’d be able to question her without evasion, hear the sexy huskiness of her voice. Meet the green of her eyes. He’d already narrowed his search to three individuals with access to the computer system. As head of those computer systems, Hannah had designed the very software someone was using to launder the money. Would Hannah blatantly use her own software? Wouldn’t make much sense. She struck him as one smart lady. But then the security was so lax at P&L, it was only a matter of time before someone took advantage of it. Was that someone Hannah Garrett? Something in his gut told him…damn. That was the problem. When it came to her, he had nothing. Zilch. Oh, he had a lot of gut reactions where Hannah was concerned, but not a single clue as to what made the lady tick. Frustrated, he curled his fingers around the edges of her r?sum?. He’d looked at the thing half a dozen times. He quelled the urge to crush it into a ball. Okay, maybe things weren’t all bad. He did have a gut reaction with her work history. It was perfect. College placement counselors could teach a course with it. And there lay the problem. He scanned the text again. He knew the answer to Hannah’s secrets hid in what the brief bio didn’t tell. A soft knock drew his attention away from the paper and to the very person occupying his thoughts. For a moment, he didn’t breathe. Framed in the door, Hannah didn’t appear so mysterious. He still wanted her. She’d mastered her red curls into that neat knot she liked. He still wanted her. Her strong features remained expressionless, and she’d plopped a pair of dark-framed glasses on her nose. He still wanted her. She radiated the very picture of a professional computer programmer…and he still wanted her. She radiated the very picture of a very irritated professional computer programmer. She tapped her pencil against the notepad in a cadence that suggested she wouldn’t mind flinging the pencil at his face. Hard. He smiled at her. The pencil tapped harder. She took several graceful steps into the room, and sat in the chair he indicated. Efficient and professional. Once again her green eyes gave her away. With a touch of surprise, he noted they weren’t the clear green he’d expected. A cloudiness masked the rich verdant hue. All the better to conceal. Ward widened his smile to a nice open invitation. “I’m glad you joined me.” “I didn’t have much choice.” He smiled again. She resumed the tapping. “It won’t be that bad, most people have given me excellent suggestions for improving security.” “This meeting isn’t necessary. I already outlined all my suggestions in a memo to Mr. Protter. I CC’d human resources and you.” Ah, yes. The neatly typed pages he’d placed with his handwritten notes. He had to appear as if he were doing true work while here undercover. Actually, her suggestions were quite good, but then, a criminal would know the best ways to rip off a place. He nodded. “I prefer to meet one-on-one. Brainstorming will often raise possibilities neither one of us would have thought of on our own. Almost a get-to-know-you-better kind of session. Why don’t you tell me a little more about yourself?” She gave him a wary glance, alerting his hunter-agent instincts. He recognized that look. It was the kind that proved she’d faced inquisitors before and knew she didn’t have to say or do a thing. At least not without a lawyer present. He closed the file. He had his answer. Hannah Garrett not only remained a legitimate suspect, but now she moved to the front of the pack. He felt a surge of disappointed satisfaction. Until this moment, he hadn’t even realized he’d held some pathetic hope he’d sized up the situation completely wrong, and she was just some gal who liked computers and needed a date for Saturday night. The lights flickered, and the pitiful excuse for an air conditioner Protter had installed whined to a halt. “That’s just great. I didn’t think this place could get much hotter.” Hannah pulled out a frilly white cloth and blotted her forehead. She had the flushed, gently perspired look a woman wears after being made love to. That she even possessed the lacy handkerchief not only surprised him, but also it was sexy as hell. Hot desire slammed his body. He searched for some indication that Hannah was suffering as he was. That, at least, would make his perpetual hard-on somewhat worth it. Why did she wear so many clothes? And such ugly ones. The brown sack of a skirt left nothing for his active imagination to latch on to. Couldn’t she wear something a little more formfitting? Or something anyway that didn’t end at the knee. “Didn’t you get the shorts memo from human resources?” he asked. “You must be on fire in all those clothes.” Hannah straightened, then replaced the handkerchief in her pocket and crossed her legs. The pencil resumed its tapping accompanied by the obviously irritated swinging of her leg. He didn’t care. Each swing gave him a peekaboo view of something other than the smooth skin of her ankle. Her ankles, as ankles went, were outstanding. Only he wanted to see more. “I really don’t think my clothes should be of any concern to the head of security.” “Suit yourself.” Ward fluffed his cotton T-shirt in a vain attempt to get a little more air onto his overheated skin. Hannah averted her eyes quickly. He hid a grin. Ahh, maybe it was more than just the heat affecting Hannah. He flexed his muscles a bit as he reached for his notepad. “Now then, tell me the procedure for ensuring outsiders are not accessing the computer system.” Hannah stopped the tapping and leaned forward. Her green eyes darkened. The first bit of passion he’d seen. “That falls under my job description. I don’t see where that’s any of your business.” “All areas of security are my business.” Her eyes narrowed, but the passion he’d spotted earlier faded. Damn. What had been there? She looked down, angled herself away from him and blocked her body with the notepad. All signs of criminal intent. Or that she just didn’t like him. Nah. He’d thrown her off balance. Now, he needed to figure out why. And do it again. Was it because he challenged her job performance? Or because he questioned how outsiders were able to access computers? Time to rattle her some more. “Tell me how—” The lights flickered again. A grinding, mechanical screech wrenched through the office. Then complete darkness. For a moment the entire floor housing Protter and Lane lay silent. Then a few chuckles and squeals drifted in from the outer office. Hannah released a soft sigh, and the tension strung between them slackened. “You okay?” he asked. “Sure.” Her voice vibrated with a loose quality he hadn’t heard from her since they’d first met. Weird. Instead of making her more nervous, the darkness almost seemed to make Hannah more relaxed. At least the tapping pencil had stopped. Peeps and chirps sounded outside his window. The power failure had not affected the bird family who’d nested on his ledge. At least his sliver of a window provided a little light. He stood and felt his way around the corners of his desk. A shrill siren sounded and the emergency security light beamed red in her face. Ward reached for her. She wrenched away from his touch. “Hey, I’m just taking you to the window.” With an abrupt, almost violent lurch, she stood. “No. Don’t touch me.” He raised his hands and stepped away. Her notepad slid to the floor, and they both hunkered down to retrieve it. Her fingers wrapped around the steel spiral of the notebook just as his hand met hers. The soft smooth skin beneath his fingers warmed him. Her shoulders shook as she sucked in a breath. Then, with a determination that radiated from her to him, he felt her fortify her strength. The unease he’d sensed when the light had glared into her face vanished. She was completely under control. The siren stopped as the lights flickered back on. They remained crouched by his desk. She, holding the notepad. He, holding her hand. He gazed into her eyes. Although her back stretched strong and firm, her green eyes still held the uneasiness she’d shown moments ago. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Her green eyes flashed, a hint of gold burned like a bursting ember. He sensed something in the fiery depths. An unflinching vulnerability. Those two descriptions countered each other so completely that he stiffened like a man who realized he’d stopped making sense. A condition usually brought on by a woman. The flash in her eyes disappeared, but the damage was done. Her brief yield had stirred up a primeval response. Shocked by the heat of his reaction, his hand dropped from the satiny skin of her hand. Hannah stood and smoothed her skirt into place. Total concealment. He sat back on his heels and watched her race away. Now more than ever he needed to know her secrets. He could afford to bide his time. In two days it would be Saturday. He’d have her in the office all to himself. HANNAH PADDED barefoot into her kitchen and spooned coffee into the basket. Her mind drifted to work as she waited for the coffee to brew. She smelled a setup. Since her disastrous meeting with the security head on Thursday, it seemed she couldn’t evade him. The last thing she wanted was to be anywhere near the watchful gaze of Ward Coleman. Wherever she went…there he was. All six foot plus of outstanding male. A delicious shiver went down her back. It had been so long. So long since she’d felt the steady warmth of a man’s hand. So long since she’d felt the mind-numbing pleasure of a man’s touch. So long since she’d hungered for a man. And she hungered for Ward Coleman. And he wasn’t doing much to help her out. She couldn’t get a pencil out of the supply closet without him retrieving a pen. Forget about the break room. She hadn’t been there since the beginning of the week. And Friday was doughnut day, and the boss had sprung for Krispy Kreme. Coleman was gonna pay for that one. The only place she could find any peace was in the ladies’ room, and Friday afternoon she could have sworn she saw him skulking by the men’s room across the hall. But today was Saturday. Her special time alone in the office. No one asking for their password, no one complaining about the server being too slow. No one. In an hour, it would be just her, blank disks and a computer to back up. She leaned against the counter and took in her tiny kitchen. She loved it. It was the first one she’d had with a dishwasher. Why she’d stupidly avoided having one until this point she didn’t know. Her foster mother’s hands had always been rough and red from soapy water. A woman’s hands were meant for something other than cleaning. Her mind always knew it, but she’d only recently put it into practice when she spotted the box of dishwasher detergent the landlord’s wife had left. She tugged the lapels of her green terry cloth robe tighter. The blistering heat wave passing through Gallem hadn’t reached full strength yet, so she could relax fully covered. Saturday morning always seemed to start out right with a cup of coffee and the newspaper in her kitchen. The apartment had practically rented itself after she saw it. The previous tenants had been a couple of college kids. They’d sponge painted the walls black, and the elderly landlord had knocked off twenty bucks a month so he wouldn’t have to repaint. She kind of liked it. The front room reminded her of a dark, moonless night. She’d placed a few stick-on stars on the ceiling for effect. Furniture remained a luxury. She didn’t have much left, leaving almost everything she’d accumulated behind in the last town she’d been relocated to. It was bad to get attached to stuff anyway. She’d found a few good pieces for this new place—a sturdy couch; she’d fashioned a slipcover for it with a navy flat sheet covered with yellow moons and suns. It kept with the space theme. Maybe she should have stuck with plain navy, but then a voice in her head said it was time to delve into the light. She hadn’t yet found a reasonable kitchen table, but she had unearthed two bar stools, badly needing attention. She’d spent an entire weekend sanding and staining, then proudly placed them before the nice, neutral Formica dining bar. Hannah slid onto the bar stool and tucked her legs beneath her. She reached for her coffee, inhaled the warm, toasty aroma and took a sip. Ahhh. With lazy fingers she folded the newspaper flat on the countertop. The date lurched. Bold and warning. Her breath left her body with a whoosh. June twenty-first. The longest day of the year. How could she have forgotten? She gulped down some more coffee, coughing as it slid down into her lungs instead of her throat. How she hated this date. When light seemed to take over the night. The calendar explained it all. The impending sense of doom, the anxiety, her paranoia of Ward. It wasn’t Ward Coleman and the exciting yet dangerous promise she’d glimpsed in his eyes at all. It was the date that had her jangly with nerves. The longest day of the year had been the last day of her normal life. Hannah drew in a calming breath the way the counselors had taught her to four years ago. She would beat this. She was beating this. Nothing special lay in the date. It was no different from the twentieth. Or the first. Or the thirteenth. No. The date held no meaning for her. Not anymore. She slammed the paper to the table and marched into her bedroom. She nearly tripped on the inflatable mattress. Not that it would have been too great a loss if she’d popped it. But she would be kind of sad. The convenient mattress was one of her few possessions to last through two moves. The accordion door of her closet slapped against the wall. She’d yanked it harder than she’d intended. With a jerk, she grabbed a long skirt and blouse. No way would she crumble under the weight of the date. Hannah Garrett was made of stronger stuff, and she would go to the office as usual. Maybe the next time Ward Coleman got in her way, she’d smile at him. “YOU GOTTA SEE THIS, WARD. Some reporter is actually out there trying to see if the sidewalk is hot enough to fry an egg.” Ward looked up from his review of the three suspect files and at his best friend, Brett Haynes, gaping out the fourteenth-story window. “Don’t they have any real news?” “This is the only news,” Brett pointed out. “Sixtyeight days of no rain coupled with this unbearable heat—it’s a disaster waiting to happen. A local news channel’s dream.” “Speaking of unbearable, isn’t it about time for you to call home again?” Ward asked. Brett glanced at his watch. “No, I’m not supposed to call until—” His friend wore the expression that indicated he just realized he was the butt of a joke. “Hey, we’re not that bad.” Ward laughed. “No, what was bad was when she put the baby on the phone.” “Just wait. Your time will come.” “Ahh, but you forget. I’m the man women love to leave. Besides, I can’t think of a worse thing than being trapped behind a desk at the Bureau with you.” “They leave because you make them want to leave. By the way, the guys asked me to give you these.” Brett dumped a package of condoms on Ward’s desk. With the tip of his pen, Ward flicked them at his friend. “What are you crazy? Put those away, someone’s going to see you.” “There’s no one here. Put ’em in your wallet. It’s time you joined the land of the living.” Brett puffed up his shirt. “At least I’m not stuck in this oven. Why didn’t you tell me the place was so hot?” “I did mention James had relegated me to hell. Besides they’re about to close the whole place down—” he glanced down at his watch “—in about another hour.” Where was Hannah? “Is that why the area is deserted? As I drove in, I felt like I’d stepped into one of those sci-fi movies where all the inhabitants of a city had disappeared.” Ward nodded. “Since it’s the weekend and so hot, the city officials are going to divert as much of the electricity as they can out of the city and to the suburbs.” “And since only an idiot would waste a Saturday in the office, the powers-that-be thought ‘who’d care?’” “They think that might prevent an overall power outage,” Ward said. “How?” “Something about power grids and diversions. I don’t know, I’m an agent, not an engineer.” “I think that line works better when you’re a doctor. If the place is going to shut down, what are we still doing here? This weekend was all about beer and baseball.” The outer office door opened and closed. Hannah. Ward stood and went around the desk to his door. “Right on time.” “On time for what?” “My number-one suspect. Hannah?” he called out in his most surprised voice. Hannah turned and faced him, not bothering to hide her disappointment. With a quick glance, he sized her up. Even though she knew no one would be in the office, she still wore that long skirt. But glorious red hair lay in waves down her back. He stifled a groan. He’d have an image of Hannah’s hair strewn on his pillow burned in his brain for the rest of the day. Week. Forever. Wait a minute, something was missing. Something in her eyes. She didn’t leave him much time to ponder the absence because she strolled right toward him. Another thing she’d never done. “What are you doing here?” she asked. Okay, some of the same old suspicious Hannah remained. This was a reaction he could appreciate. A prickle of relief eased his shoulders. He hadn’t even realized he tensed them. “Oh, I have an old buddy visiting me. Hannah, this is Brett.” She cut Brett a glance. “Nice to meet you. Too bad you got here just in time for all the heat.” “And it just keeps getting hotter,” Brett added. Ward shot him a warning glance, then cleared his throat. “I was showing Brett my new office.” Hannah returned her attention to Ward and smiled at him. And Ward dropped his pen. “Bye, guys. Off to back up the hard drives.” She gave them a little finger wave, and they watched as she walked into her office and closed the door. After retrieving his pen from the floor, he saw Brett was shaking his head. “What?” “You’re going to have a heck of a time proving this one innocent.” “What are you talking about? I’m here to find the bad guy and put him or her in jail.” “Yeah. Sure. Just keep telling yourself that. It may actually help for a while. But I recognize the signs. It’s benched many a great agent.” THAT FELT GOOD. Hannah had never turned the tables on someone before, and seeing Ward Coleman drop his pen at her feet…it was almost worth the intrusion on her Saturday. She opened her desk drawer, pulled the rewritable CD from its sleeve and stuck it into the computer. With a few clicks of her mouse, the backup process began. With the expected lulls in power, this particular backup was crucial. She snapped open the top of her diet cola, retrieved the book from her purse and began to read. Hard work indeed. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Ward. She closed the book on her thumb and stared at the cover picture. The hero of the book was a pirate. He possessed Ward’s green eyes and blond hair, and strong jaw. Was that why she’d bought the romantic pirate story? Did she see Ward in the brave man pictured on the cover? Of course not. She simply found herself sexually attracted to him. It was natural. She was a grown woman who’d denied herself for a long time. An unsteady desire settled in her as she remembered Ward looking into her eyes. For a brief moment, she’d been tempted. The pull of his attraction had her melting faster than an ice cream in the Gallem sun. Ward no. Pirate yes. And she opened her book. The pager at her waist vibrated as the pirate in her book hoisted the heroine into his arms. Her fingers shook as she replaced the bookmark and set the book on her desk. No one except her boss at P&L or the server had her pager number. No one except her contacts. She ripped the black standard-issue pager from her skirt. She didn’t recognize the number, but an asterisk blinked as the last character on the miniscreen. The symbol for danger. Using the private phone in her office could prove too risky. Anyone at the switchboard would be able to see the flashing light of her line and know it was in use. Then there was the possibility of someone listening in…. With trembling legs, she grabbed her purse and walked toward the fire stairwell. Once the door slammed behind her, she sprinted down three flights. From her previous scouting, she knew no one milled about on a Saturday on this floor housing law offices. The attorneys had installed a pay phone near the public restroom to prevent clients from asking to make personal calls. Hannah found her change, inserted it into the phone and punched in the number. She’d gone through this drill before, but her nerves never got any better. The person on the other end answered the line on the first ring. “Code?” “726418,” she recited. Hannah knew that code number the way others knew the digits of their social security number. “Kyle Barton escaped from prison this morning.” Gasping, Hannah nearly dropped the receiver. Her stomach quaked, and she gulped several breaths to keep from losing her breakfast. The date. The longest day of the year. The day that started it all. Of course this would be the day Kyle made a break for freedom. He’d see the irony and run with it. Why had she mocked it earlier? Dared the calendar to mean anything. He’d always find her. Kyle had promised that after the police had placed the cuffs on his hands and escorted him from the courtroom. He’d find her just as surely as day following night. It was her destiny. As it was his. Okay, stop it. There was no such thing as destiny. That was the kind of stuff Kyle had said to an impressionable girl just wanting to please. Be practical. A dozen questions came to mind. How had he escaped? Why hadn’t he been restrained? She sucked in a breath, and shrank into the shadows. “There’s no reason to suspect you’re compromised. What are you doing now?” “Backing up the computers. I do it every Saturday. I’m almost done.” “Good. Keep with your routine. Finish up and go home. Don’t draw any attention to yourself. You know the routine.” Yeah, she knew the routine. “Marshals are tracking him right now, but we want you to lie low. Do you have some sick days coming?” “Yes,” she answered, her voice as scratchy as sandpaper. But she knew. He’d find her. He always did. “Good. Take the days and get out of sight. Fly below the radar. If I call again, it’s to give you the address of a safe house. If he’s captured, you’ll see it on TV.” Her contact hung up. Hannah replaced the receiver, and checked for the weapon in her purse. She carried a Taser. Even though she would have preferred her gun, no one thought anything of a single woman with a Taser in her purse. The man who had vowed to see her dead was free. Hurry the night. Safety lay in the shadows. 3 “MS. GARRETT, what are you still doing here?” Hannah looked up from the computer with a start. It was Frank, the elderly security guard for the sixteen-story building. Not a threat. Don’t draw any attention to yourself. She offered what she hoped wasn’t too tentative a smile. “Hi, Frank. Must have lost track of the time. I wanted to back up these hard drives before the power outage.” “Well, you gotta get out of here. They’re about to blow the horns.” Darn, she’d forgotten they’d be doing that. This power diversion couldn’t come at a worse time. She glanced at the progress bar. Still at least three minutes until the backup was complete. “I’m about to shut off the computer.” “Do it quickly. Glad I decided to do one more walk through the building. Found your new security guy here and a doctor down on three.” “Thanks, Frank. I’ll get out of here now.” The security guard looked relieved. He must have expected an argument. “Good. They’re gonna blast the tornado sirens as a final warning. If you hear those, you better clear out.” Those sirens, a necessity in tornado alley where Gallem was located, were only used in extreme cases other than their original use. This electrical shutdown was serious business. She looked at her watch. She was cutting it closer than she liked, but she still had plenty of time to get to her car and drive out of the parking garage. Finally, the backup was done, and she quickly clicked Shut Down. Hannah waved as Frank hurried off, then grabbed her purse, stuffed in her paperback and snapped it shut. She’d love a quick trip to the ladies’ room to pat a bit of cool water onto her cheeks and behind her neck. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt so hot. But she wouldn’t risk it. After walking to the lobby, she pressed the elevator button with a relieved jab. Leaving the downtown area this late was a big mistake, but Saturdays were the only time she could back up the server without Protter and Lane losing a lot of money. And with a definite power outage, that backup was a necessity. The sirens began their slow buildup to a loud warning. She was quite used to alarms warning of tornadoes. The sound never failed to fill her with dread and spurred her to speed up. She checked her watch and eyed the stairwell. According to her watch, she still had five minutes. Hiking down fourteen flights of stairs held little appeal. The ding of the elevator signaled its arrival, ending her decision. She entered with a grateful quick step. She fluffed her shirt to cool a bit. The building maintenance obviously had the air-conditioning on efficiency mode. Ice cream. Cold, melting ice cream would help cool her off. Too bad she wouldn’t be able to eat it on her balcony as the sun set. Her favorite time of the day. The temperature would probably still hover around the ninety-degree mark. But it did remind her to stop by the grocery store. She’d need to stock up. No telling how long she’d have to stay holed up in her apartment. The doors had almost closed when a large, masculine hand pried them apart. Hannah moved until her back pressed against the cool, faux wood. “I see I’m not alone in waiting until the last minute,” Ward said. Her hand automatically went to her purse, and she wrapped her fingers around the comforting presence of her Taser. One thing she’d learned in these last four years on the run, life did have its ironies. Thirty minutes ago, she’d entertained pirate thoughts about the man. Now she wondered if he were sent here to find her and bring her to Kyle. That burly-looking friend of Ward’s, Brett, had that capable rough appearance about him. As did Ward. He turned away. She switched the Taser safety off with her thumb. Just a few more seconds and the doors would slide open, and she could head for her car. With a slow swoosh the elevator came to a stop. The jerk of the emergency brakes engaging knocked her slightly off balance. She dropped her purse to the floor. A small red emergency light fluttered in the corner for a moment, then puttered out. Utter darkness draped them. The electricity had shut off early. She chased her purse to the floor. Panicked, she felt the floor for the spilled contents. The Taser was her only weapon. She heard it rolling on the floor. “Why’d that red light go out?” she asked. “Damn building maintenance.” A high-pitched ringing filled her ears. Had Ward and his friend rigged the elevator? Now would be his chance. His chance to bring her to Kyle. Or bring her body. Beside her, Ward cursed. “This is all I need.” She sucked in a deep breath and tried to take a cue from Ward. He only sounded irritated. She counted to ten. Then to twenty. Though he didn’t act or sound like a man who was ready to kill her, she didn’t plan on sticking around to find out. She silently recited the mantra she’d been given. When confronted, act. Swallowing her anxiety, she quelled the shaking of her hands as she felt her way along the wall to where she hoped the emergency phone was. Bingo! Her fingers brushed over the bumpy Braille on the buttons. She moved lower. The cool, smooth metal beneath her fingertips indicated she’d found the control panel. Usually, the emergency phone lay below. Her nails clicked on the metal handle. She yanked it open. The cordless receiver fell to the floor with a clunk. “Oh no.” “Don’t tell me that was the phone.” Taking a deep calming breath, she patted the floor for the useless device. His voice didn’t sound threatening. Take it easy. Maybe he’s just a normal guy. A guy with bad luck…just like you. “Yes. Maintenance strikes again.” She heard him fumble in the darkness. “I have my cell phone. Hope the battery is charged.” He laughed. She prayed that was his idea of a joke and not a real worry. But she did breath a little easier. If he and his buddy had rigged the elevator, he’d be subduing her right now, not trying to find a way to get out. Right? A rush of relief filled her as she heard the beeps on his phone. She could handle being inside their steel cage as long as she knew it would be for just a few minutes more. “Damn it.” Her heart began to pound. “What’s wrong?” “I’m getting nothing but static. Can’t get a signal in the middle of all these steel office towers. Being inside an elevator doesn’t help.” A nauseating sense of apprehension invaded her, but she wouldn’t sit there like a helpless victim. She had to do something. Hannah stood and felt her way to the elevator doors. She balled up her fists and began to pound. “Hey, someone. We’re trapped. Help!” Her fellow captive joined her. How long they stood together pummeling the door, she didn’t know. Soon the force behind his blows weakened, and her voice grew hoarse. Her legs wobbled, and she sank to the floor, sliding along the smoothness of the elevator wall. “This is useless.” “Yeah,” he said. “Everyone is long gone.” The silence stretched between them for a moment. “Hey, look on the bright side.” “What?” “The phone’s buttons provide a little bit of light.” She licked her dry lips. “You’re taking this too calmly. Who knows how long we’ll be here tonight.” “Brett’s expecting me, and he knows where I was last. When I don’t answer my phone, he’ll come to find out why.” Maybe Ward was just the head of security. Maybe Brett was just a buddy. Maybe. “What about you? Anyone waiting for you at home?” he asked. That was a loaded question. Was he trying to size up the enemy or was he simply forming a plan? The memory of his long, hot stares assaulted her. Maybe he was asking out of a personal interest. Her heart beat faster at the thought. Dare she tell him the truth? She closed her eyes and shook her head. No one. “Hannah?” “What?” “Is anyone expecting you?” Did she trust Ward? Could she trust him? “Uh, no, sorry.” Silence stretched between them. Had she miscalculated? Was he preparing to swoop down on her? The smooth glide of fabric sliding against the wall filled the compartment. The wall opposite her. Ward must have decided to sit on the floor, too. “I don’t want to think what kind of germs are on this floor.” Sweet relief poured through her, causing a cooling sweat to break out on the back of her neck. She rubbed her eyes wishing for something to appear. “I can’t see a thing. Why won’t my eyes adjust?” “Your eye requires light. The light rays send electrical signals to the brain where the image is then decoded.” “Translation please?” “Your eyes won’t adjust, it’s too dark.” “Great. How’d you know that?” “Spent many a night in the jungle as a Marine.” “Really?” “Hoo-Raa.” Hannah allowed herself to smile. He wouldn’t be able to see her anyway. Ward was what he appeared to be. A former Marine and the head guy of security. Her pirate image flashed again. Yeah, Marines did a lot for water. “Don’t worry, once it gets dark, Brett will know something’s wrong,” he said. She exhaled a slow breath. “Today’s the summer solstice. The longest day of the year.” “So I guess our wait will be even longer.” “It’s kind of ironic. From our more pagan past, the solstice was a celebration of light.” Ward laughed. “And we’re stuck in the dark.” Disappointment layered on top of her apprehension. “Some people believe it’s a time for renewal.” “There’s a joke there somewhere.” The man beside her sighed. “We might be here for a while. What can we do for fun?” One thing about pirates. They sometimes had wicked ideas. Or in this case, inspired them. “You’ll feel better if you take off a few clothes,” Ward said a while later. He’d already shucked his shirt, shoes and socks. Perspiration rolled down her temple. She gave a nervous laugh. “I think I’ll hold out as long as I can.” The elevator had become a steamy box and she felt like a wilting, hothouse weed. She pulled the wispy material of her skirt over her calves. She couldn’t read her watch, but guessed there were still several hours of daylight left. No telling how much longer they’d have to sit here. He shifted across from her, but her heart didn’t race in alarm. Although it did race. Over the last four years, she’d learned to ratchet up her instinct, recoiling from even the most casual contact or closeness. Yet with Ward, her usual skittishness diminished. “I can’t take it anymore. I’m getting out of these shorts.” Ward stood, sending a whoosh of air floating her way. She heard the clink of metal against metal as he unlooped his belt. She clenched her eyes tight as she waited for the next sound—the zip of his fly coming down. A ringing began in her ears. His shorts hit the floor with a thud, and she sensed him stepping out of them. He tossed his clothes to the side. “Ah,” he said. She nearly groaned, and tried not to imagine what he’d look like. Tall, muscular, and wearing only his Skivvies. If Marines wore such a thing. His presence had dwarfed her as they’d stood together, pounding uselessly against the elevator door. His presence beside her felt…masculine. Despite the heat, her nipples tightened. She fluffed her shirt again. The darkness concealed many things. Thankfully. “I bet you’re rubbing that dimple in your chin.” Ward’s voice carried over to her, melting like butter. “It’s called a cleft and I’ve always hated it.” “Why?” “It’s boyish.” Ward laughed. It was a warm chuckle deep from his chest. Great, there were those shaky knees again. How could he do that to her with just a laugh? “There’s nothing boyish about you, Hannah.” A sensuous curl of awareness tickled her senses. She tread on dangerous territory here. Ward was way out of her league. Actually, she didn’t even belong in a league. She should never have attempted that smile. Time for some evasive maneuvers. “I’m getting a little hungry. Do you have any food in your briefcase?” A long pause followed her question. She held her breath. “I’ll check.” She released her breath on a quiet sigh and reached for her purse. Perhaps she still had some airline peanuts from a trip a few weeks ago. She thought longingly of the candy bar she had stashed in her desk drawer. “Found it.” The click of his briefcase opening filled the tiny compartment. “We’re in luck. I thought I might have a water bottle in here. Last night I left my gym bag in the locker and stashed my water in here. Not much left, we’ll have to ration.” “It’s okay, I’m not overly thirsty right now. Somehow knowing we have it makes it better.” She twisted and her blouse stuck to her back. If she didn’t cool down, she’d be in a whole lot of trouble. Ward seemed to be faring better, but then he’d taken off most of his clothes. If not all. Enticing images came to mind. Ward had that wavy kind of hair that made him not mind if a woman wanted to run her fingers through it. Kyle had hated her touching his hair, messing it up. He liked to keep it under control. As much as she would like to deny it, something about Ward drew her, common sense shouted “Run Away!” But every one of her nerve endings shouted back they wanted to be touched. And to touch. The man oozed raw sexual energy. Another bead of perspiration rolled down the side of her face. She had to do it. She had to strip. If she took off one item of clothing slowly, perhaps it would seem more of a treat that way. She’d start with her slip. What a stupid piece of clothing that was anyway. She stood, and hiked up her skirt. Heat filled her cheeks even though she knew Ward couldn’t see her actions. There was something very intimate about stripping before a man. A tremor of excitement raced through her as she eased the silky material down her hips. “Finally got hot enough, huh?” She stopped abruptly, the material at her knees. Despite the utter darkness, she felt his eyes on her. On her body. Even with the stifling heat, her nipples hardened. Stop it, you’re being ridiculous. She kicked off her shoes and stepped out of the hot fabric, tossing it into the corner. “Something like that.” The air brushed against her thighs, giving her a moment of blessed relief. And a burst of energy. “Don’t most elevators have escape hatches? I’ve seen them in movies.” Ward stood beside her. “I didn’t get a good visual before the lights went out. I’ve probably been in this elevator half a dozen times and I have no idea. But it’s worth a shot. I’ll loop my hands together and give you a boost up.” “What?” “I’m not tall enough to reach. Grab my hand.” All the comfortable feelings she’d garnered to this point vanished. She’d have to touch him. Feel the heat of his bare skin. The tightness of his muscles beneath her fingertips. She thrust out her hand in the general direction of Ward’s voice. His long fingers clasped hers and drew her toward him. He placed her hand on his shoulder and stooped. “Use your hand for leverage and lift your foot.” His skin felt smooth and, oh so inviting, as she curled her hand around his shoulder. The muscles beneath her fingertips tensed slightly as she braced herself against him. His breath ruffled the material of her blouse. “That’s it, now lift your foot.” She lifted her leg and bumped her calf into his hands. He slid his hand slowly down her bare leg, sending shivers up to her thighs. Finally he found her foot. With an easy heave, he lifted her off the ground. She gasped slightly and balanced both hands on his strong shoulders. “It’s okay, I got you.” Ward stood to his full height. She rested her hip against the strength of his shoulder and raised her arms. “I’m feeling along the ceiling now. Everything feels the same.” “Search for a break in the tile.” “It’s all tile.” She ran her palms against the ceiling in frantic circles. She had to find the opening. If this didn’t work, they might be stuck here for hours. Finally one palm snagged on an irregularity. “Wait, this may be it.” She pushed on the unusual tile with all her strength, but it didn’t budge. Frustration made her muscles bunch. “I can’t get it.” “On the count of three, I’ll jump and you push. Between the two of us, we can get it open.” On three, Ward jumped and Hannah shoved her palms against the ceiling with all her force, very aware of the strong arms wrapped around her legs. Nothing. “Let’s try it again,” he suggested. “No. Outside of using my head as a battering ram, I don’t think we’re going to get it open. It’s probably not the trap door anyway. Maybe it’s just a replacement tile and that’s why it felt funny.” “Okay.” He loosened the hold around her legs and eased her down, along his body. A delicious friction erupted between them as she slid down, her skirt riding up. His hair-rough legs tickled her bare thighs. Her toes touched the floor and she backpedaled in a desperate attempt to move away from his masculine heat. He steadied her with a hand to her shoulder, searing her. She found her hands resting on the firmness of his chest. Her stomach muscles quivered at the unleashed strength of his body and she pushed herself away, her fingertips trailing along the hair of his muscled forearms. She was acting like an idiot. Ward must think her insane. Trapped inside an elevator with a crazy person, this must be his lucky day. WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HER all of a sudden? She obviously didn’t want him to touch her. But why? He’d felt a rush of adrenaline the moment their skin made contact. He’d swear her body trembled slightly at his touch. It had been a long time since his last failed attempt at a relationship, but could he be that far off the mark? And could he be that much out of practice? Ward rubbed the sweat off his face and slicked his hair back. That haircut he’d gotten two days ago had come in handy. Less hair, less heat. He could only imagine how hot Hannah must be. Her only concession to the growing inferno had been to remove…hell, he didn’t know what she removed, but it still made him hard. When she stood to take off whatever bit of feminine cloth she thought expendable, he realized he’d never be able to wipe the imagined scene out of his mind. His body had quickened at the rustling of material, the sound of her nails scraping on the silky fabric. He’d checked his urge to help her. Brett would laugh his head off if he could see the two of them. His friend said he’d spotted a change in Ward. It seemed his senses finally agreed, but the woman obviously couldn’t bear his touch. She seemed to be keeping herself as far away from him as she could. Maybe that was in her best interests. His body stirred again as she sat across from him, her perfume coming to him on a puff of air. Pears and strawberry. It made him ache all the more to taste her. She possessed a delicate strength. Something that called out to some primitive instinct he had to safeguard. Where the hell had that urge come from? It must be the strange circumstance he found himself in. It didn’t make sense to get personal in a case. He saw what losing that narrow-minded focus had done to Brett’s career at the Bureau. He was now stuck at a desk job in a field office in Salt Lake. That wasn’t for him. No way. Okay, so he’d been noticing her as more than just a suspect. Who wouldn’t notice her auburn curls? Or that dimple in her chin she hated and her full red lips? “Ward, we haven’t tried to pry the doors apart. I think there’s supposed to be some kind of catch.” “I thought of that, Hannah, but I don’t want to risk it if we don’t have to. We don’t know where the elevator has stopped. You could break an arm or a leg dropping down. If we climb out and the electricity should come back on while we’re half in, half out of the elevator—” Hannah shuddered. “It’s okay. I get the picture. How long do you think it’s been? About an hour and a half?” “About that long.” She stood and a rush of air circulated his way. “Well, I can’t stand being in these clothes much longer.” He heard the zip of her skirt and whoosh as it fell to the ground. He swallowed. Hard. He heard another whoosh as what he assumed was her blouse hit the floor. If he heard another, he could only guess what that particular item of clothing would be. Images of a nearly naked Hannah standing before him made his mind go fuzzy and his body grow hard. He didn’t need this rush of heat. He was hot enough already. Thankfully, he heard no other whoosh. “Umm. That’s better. This elevator wall actually feels cool against my skin.” Ward cleared his throat and fought to find his voice. In the end, he gave up trying. A long, dark silence stretched between them. “Ward?” “Yes?” “Talk to me.” “What about? Cars, movies, advancements in security technology?” “I don’t care.” He’d been making a joke, but the steely vulnerability he’d detected in her voice stopped him from making another attempt at humor. She was reaching out to him, and he knew that was unusual for her because he shared the same symptoms. She reached out, but didn’t like the needing to. Damn, Brett was right. He rubbed his leg and smiled at the irony of it. He was going to have a heck of a time proving this one innocent. Ward couldn’t see her as a true criminal. And yet, Hannah was his number-one suspect. Good to see he hadn’t lost his ability in finding the surest method of driving a woman away. 4 “SO, HOW LONG HAVE YOU lived in Gallem?” Ward asked. Hannah tried not to fall into full-blown panic. It was just a question. A casual question normal people asked other completely normal people every day. All she had to do was answer it like a normal person. Ah, and there was the problem. “I, uh—” She took a deep, calming breath. Hannah Garrett knew her story backward and forward. Sideways even. “A little over a year,” she told him. Excellent. No stutter. No hesitation. It’s not as if she hadn’t given out this exact same memorized information a dozen times before. So why was she tongue-tied with Ward? “Yeah? I’m new to Gallem, too. Where did you live before?” Okay, another normal question. A zero on the unusual scale. Ward was the security guy, of course he’d ask questions about a person’s background to pass the time. “Oh, I moved around a lot, probably the same as you did in the military.” Good. She was following procedure. When conversations grew too personal, turn the focus back onto the other person. “Your parents didn’t mind?” “They both died when I was little. I grew up in foster care. Once you’re eighteen, that’s basically it.” “That’s rough. I knew a few men like that in the military. They couldn’t find anyone for you to live with?” Kyle hadn’t cared about her past. Only what she could give him in the present. She couldn’t recall a single time he’d asked about her family. His living in the moment had been one of his appeals. Admittedly, she’d been kind of relieved, not really wanting to talk about the group home, her foster mother. Growing up, she’d felt judged her whole life. Kyle had never looked down on her. He was content to have her by his side, the perfect arm candy in a sexy dress and makeup. All that mattered to Kyle was the here and now. Ward was different, though. She felt an odd comfort in talking about the past with Ward. Since Kyle hadn’t known her origins, she’d opted to keep her real history with this latest identity. “Hannah, if you don’t want to talk about—” “No, it’s okay. Actually, there could be a whole slew of relatives out there that I don’t know about. The father’s name on my birth certificate was left blank. I was told I lived with my mother until I was three, but I don’t remember her. She just dropped me off at the daycare center, and never came back.” “That’s rough.” “She was only sixteen when she had me. Maybe she thought leaving me would give me a chance to have a better life. At least that’s how I like to think of it.” “I bet you’re right.” She smiled in the darkness. Ward agreeing with her was practically erotic. Most people would probably flash her their most skeptical look at her fanciful need to think well of a mother who had abandoned her. Ward’s sympathy, and more, for her, threw her off-kilter for a moment. Her purse still lay beside her, so she grabbed it, sinking her hand down to the depths. Anything to distract her. “Hey, I think I found a package of mints at the bottom of my purse. Feels like three of them,” Hannah said, rummaging in the darkness. “I’ll give you a thousand dollars for them,” Ward said. Hannah laughed. She hadn’t laughed in so long, her laughter sounded a little rusty even to her own ears. He had the sexiest voice she’d ever heard in her life. Of course she’d been listening to nothing but that rich, deep baritone of his for the last few hours. She’d read that when someone lost one sense, the others became more acute. She believed it now. Her ears had become especially sensitive to his voice as it wrapped around her, surrounding her like a sensual fog. “So, what brought you to Gallem?” she asked, suddenly needing to turn the focus of their conversation away from her life. Ward had been with the FBI long enough to know when someone was trying to divert his attention. Not a smooth transition, but the way Hannah phrased her question would make his refusal to answer seem rude. “Things had gotten a little stale. A friend told me I needed to get into life. When I saw the job at P&L I applied. I didn’t know Gallem was so hot.” She laughed. He loved a woman’s laugh. The fanning motion across from him stopped for a moment, then resumed. “So have you been more satisfied with your life since moving here?” Here it was. His opportunity to open up. Share. He cleared his throat. He had an urge to say something glib, to pass his earlier statement off as a joke. But something in her voice, a hesitation before asking, perhaps a similar resignation, he didn’t know, but he sensed a kindred spirit. He and Hannah had both turned their backs on life. Maybe being stuck in an elevator wasn’t such bad luck at all. Maybe it was Murphy’s way of giving him a wake-up call. But what could he say? He’d been undercover for most of his adult life. It was hard to know the difference between reality and make-believe. “My parents died when I was seventeen.” “Mmm.” The sound, almost a hum, didn’t really mean anything, but it was oddly comforting. An invitation to continue. There was no need to close his eyes, his usual habit when thoughts of that day threatened to return. But it wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t be any darker than the elevator, and it wouldn’t block the picture of his mother and father dead on the living room floor. “They were murdered.” Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/jill-monroe/share-the-darkness-39880472/?lfrom=688855901) на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.