“Oh my God. Mitch . . .” Her mouth hung open, her gaze horrified. “The devastation there . . .”
He shrugged, but didn’t feel the nonchalance inside. The episode would forever be etched on both his memory and his conscience. “War is messy. Schaeffer started this war. And he continues to perpetuate it.”
When she remained staring off into space, mouth open in shock, Mitch said, “I see you’re starting to get the bigger picture here, Hali.
“Anyway, back to Quaid. When we finally got him back, we discovered that while Gorin had been shaping him into that perfect soldier of the future, they’d wiped out his memory bank. He’s since been reunited with his wife, Jessica, who’s spent the last five years believing she watched him die at the warehouse—they were newlyweds at the time of the explosion.”
“Oh Christ.” She barely breathed the words and held up her hands. “Stop.”
She covered her eyes as Mitch approached a freeway exit with a hotel half a mile down.
“Oh, but that’s just the start. There’s juicy stuff to tell. Quaid’s chemical exposure at the fire made him a gifted remote viewer and teleporter, which Gorin manipulated until he had the perfect asset for clandestine missions around the globe. Quaid has been stealing military secrets—from other countries and our own—and supplying them to Schaeffer so Millennium Manufacturing can fulfill the military’s every need, whether it be manufacturing advanced weaponry or developing intelligent support devices. And he’s making billions upon billions doing it.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head, eyes wide with a dull glaze. “He . . . he can’t. I mean . . . isn’t that espionage or treason or . . . something?”
Mitch grinned, hard and bitter, pulling into the hotel’s parking lot. “Only if it can be proven. And to commit treason, two parties need to be involved. Espionage . . .” He shrugged. “It’s a tough sell—to a grand jury, to a judge, to a jury . . .”
“But he’s a senator. Everything has to be held in trust. He’s not supposed to be doing business while he’s in office. It’s a conflict of interest. That’s . . . I don’t know, fraud?”
Mitch’s smile softened to something a little more real. “Either your trainer was teaching law with his Krav Maga or some of our conversations from all those years ago stuck.
“It might be considered fraud. Then again, it could be viewed as within legal parameters, like Vice President Cheney’s involvement in the deals his company, Halliburton, picked up with the military while he was in office. That was ultimately ruled legal—at least in the U.S. He still had problems overseas. But as you can see, there is a lot of gray area to be colored one way or the other, which is where you come in—evidence gathering.”
He pulled to a stop directly in front of the hotel office.
As if she realized for the first time that they weren’t on the freeway anymore, she frowned through the windshield. “What . . . ? Where are we?” But she didn’t wait for an answer before she asked, “And where are we going to be tomorrow morning?”
Ah, shit. He really wasn’t up for this. “Halina.” He forced himself to put a soothing tone behind his words. “You’re exhausted, you’re hurt, you’re stressed. You need to get some sleep. And if I keep driving—”
“You’re going to run into a post. I know. Who is Kai?”
“Your questions are making me dizzy, sweetheart. Let’s get a room for now and—”
“Shit, this is . . . this is crazy.” She covered the injury on her head with one hand and closed her eyes. “What am I doing?”
“Welcome to my world. Get comfortable. You’re gonna be here a while.” He pushed from the car and took a deep breath of the cold night air before rounding the hood to open her door. “But stop stressing for the moment. Doing anything that stands out is the fastest way to lead them to us. Now, pretend you like me. It’s a normal thing for couples to do when they come to a hotel.”
He reached for her arm to help her out, but she pulled back. Dex pushed out of her lap and tried to stretch in the small space. “Why can’t I stay here?”
“Because I don’t feel like coming out to an empty parking spot.” He tugged Halina to her feet. “Sorry, dude,” he said to Dex. “I’m going to steal her for a few minutes.”
At the lobby door, he pulled her aside and tilted her chin up with a finger. The dim outside lights bathed her face in a warm glow, easing the stark paleness clinging to her since she’d headbutted Abernathy. Every surface was smooth, creamy . . . so utterly beautiful.
“We need to cover up this shiner.”
His fingers smoothed the strands of hair that had fallen across her forehead, but didn’t begin to cover the damage. He reached around the back of her head to unfasten the messy bun she kept throwing her hair into. Her scent and warmth slid along the front of his body, then slipped around him as if she’d circled him in her arms. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on his fumbling fingers, but his head had gone woozy. How did she do this to him? It was like she . . . had powers.
A moment of dread preceded an almost-laugh. That was a ridiculous thought. Even if she had the ability to put men in a sexual fog, she’d only use it to get away from him, not turn him on.
“Need some help?”
The suggestive tone in her voice had to be his sick imagination. But the feel of her hands resting against his belly sure wasn’t. And the simple touch spread heat across his entire upper body.
She lifted her hands behind her head and covered his struggling fingers. For a moment, she just held them. For a moment, he just let her. Then he pulled his hands from beneath hers but found no good place to settle them once they were free—or rather far too many good places to settle them. They ended up low on her waist, where he forced himself to hold them light and still.
The tie in her hair released and strands fell in a thick, dark slide over her shoulders. The sight of it against her creamy skin, bringing out her light eyes . . .
He sighed. Tightened his fingers on her waist. “I like it long.”
With her head tilted down, she finger-combed the last tangled strands, then lifted those beautiful eyes to his. He had no idea whether or not the longing he saw there was real or fantasy. The majority of his blood was too far away from his brain to trust his intellect at the moment.
She finally shook out her hair and lowered her hands, letting them rest on his chest. She was so close. So . . . real. And it had been so long.
“Damn,” he whispered, suddenly breathless. “This is so much harder than I thought it would be.”
Something sparked in her eyes. Maybe surprise, maybe hurt. But definitely something with a wicked little edge. She slid her hands up his chest and over his shoulders. The feel of her hands moving over him turned embers to roaring flames.
“Because you thought you’d feel nothing for me?”
As soon as she asked the question, Mitch knew exactly what kind of trouble he’d gotten himself into. The kind he sucked at getting himself out of—intact. Sucked.
She followed the movement of her hands with her gaze as if absorbing the sight and feel of every muscle she traced. And he’d never been so intensely turned on by so little.
“Because I’m just—” she started.
“Halina . . .” he warned.
Something flashed in her eyes. Pain . . . disappointment . . . anger . . . he couldn’t tell.
“Exactly.” She stepped in and rubbed her body the length of his. The sensation blew his circuits, made his eyes close, and filled his throat with a groan. “I’m just Halina.”
“Wha—?”
His confusion shifted as she pulled back. Cool air filled the space where her body had been and brought with it as much discomfort as a cold shower. Mitch opened his eyes as she slipped out from between his body and the building and entered the office without looking back.