chapter 31
Gabe’s cell phone alarm woke him at six-fifteen.
Next door the shower was running and Summer was singing. He eased out of bed, wincing when he stood up. His leg was stiff as he rewrapped the bandage that he’d removed in the night.
Gritting his teeth, he bent into a careful stretching routine.
After three minutes he was cursing silently.
After eight minutes, his leg began to recover its old flexibility.
He checked the bandage again, then reached for his pants hastily as the shower stopped, and Summer emerged in a fluffy robe. Her hair was wet and her cheeks were flushed, making Gabe remember how they’d spent the night.
He was all set to reach for her when sanity returned.
Everything that had happened was an illusion fueled by risk and adrenaline. It was time to put the emotions away and finish the mission.
He sat down and buttoned his shirt. “Sleep well?” Thank God, his voice sounded steady.
“Fine. You?”
“Well enough.” Not for one damned second. Her body had been too warm, rubbing against him and denying him any rest. “You finished in there?”
“Gabe, we need to talk.” Her voice wavered. “About last night.” Before he could speak, she dug her hands into her pockets and turned away. “I just want you to know that I appreciate what you did and why you did it.”
“You do?”
“Of course. And I understand how a man like you would feel about what happened last night.”
Gabe felt a spark of irritation. “A man like me?”
“Someone who’s confident and handsome, with an amazing body. You probably have to beat women off with a stick, while I—” She stared out at the bright red bougainvillaeas lining the patio. “That part doesn’t matter. What matters is that I won’t turn last night into a mushy melodrama. We had sex, okay? It was just hormones. Adrenaline gone amuck.” She ran a hand through her damp hair, frowning. “Just because we had simple, sweaty sex, don’t think you owe me anything, because you don’t.”
“I see.” Hell if he did. Who was she to call what had happened between them simple?
“I knew you would. And you’re right, it’s better this way. The work has to come first and we’ve still got Underhill’s disk to squire back to safety.” She dropped her robe, revealing a sheer lace bra and panties that hit Gabe like a body blow. “I’ll dress and get out of your way, then we can both focus.”
Focus. Gabe drew a hard breath.
Right. Just as soon as she pulled some clothes over those long legs and the pouty nipples he’d savored thoroughly in the night.
Summer pulled on dark slacks and a dark sweater. “I’ll order breakfast for us while you shower and dress. Be careful with your knee.”
“My damned knee is fine,” he said irritably.
“You don’t have to lie about it,” she said calmly, slipping on her shoes. “I’m just glad we’re both taking this in stride. Last night was . . . a nice illusion, but now it’s time to get back to reality. So what can I order you for breakfast?”
Her eyes were guileless, her smile soft. The combination nearly knocked him off his feet. “I’m not hungry.”
“You need to eat.” She swept a swift, almost unwilling glance over his body. Her cheeks were the color of crushed raspberries as she studied his chest. Gabe knew he had welts where her nails had scratched him.
“Don’t worry, the scratches don’t hurt.”
Her cheeks turned even brighter red. “I-I don’t know what came over me.”
“Great sex came over you,” he said roughly. “Not simple sex, great sex. That’s two different things. And I’ll have huevos rancheros, along with coffee black enough to make my hair stand up. Toss in anything else that looks interesting.”
She smiled faintly. “Anything else I can do?”
“Yeah. You can leave before I pull that lace underwear off and see if you can put more welts on my chest.”
She frowned slightly. “There’s no need to pretend this is . . . important, Gabe. You won’t hurt my feelings.”
The woman truly didn’t have a clue, Gabe realized. And to his dismay, his body was responding vigorously to all this talk about sex and lace underwear. Gabe wanted her again, hard and deep, right against the bedroom wall.
And she was worried about ordering him the right food for breakfast.
Men were from Mars, all right, but women were from the Horsehead Nebula. Gabe realized she was waiting for his answer, a frown on her forehead. He wished they had time for explanations, but they didn’t.
“Forget about what I said.” His voice was rough. “You’re right, the work is all that counts.” He turned away, gathering his clothes in a nylon travel bag. “Let’s wrap this up and go meet Izzy.”
“No problem. I’m packed already. My bag’s on the bed.”
“Too bad we didn’t get the clinic tour after all,” Gabe muttered. She was taking this whole thing far too calmly. For some reason he wanted to shake her up. He leaned closer, wrapping a strand of hair around his finger. “But we probably wouldn’t have convinced anyone that we were passionately in love and trying to have a baby.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re distracted, and I’m trying to ignore the fact that you’re distracted.”
She bit her bottom lip, leaving Gabe in a sudden state of arousal. “You think I can’t focus?”
“Yeah.”
“I can do whatever’s necessary.”
“There’s no need to shout, Summer.”
“I’m not shouting.” Rising to her toes, Summer slid her hands around his neck. “I’m not distracted now. I’m thinking about having more sex with you.”
“Great sex,” Gabe said hoarsely, pretty sure the top of his head lifted free when she pulled him down and bit his lip hungrily. Her hand slid around his back, settling possessively on his butt.
The woman was good, he thought dimly.
Without breaking the kiss, Gabe pulled her between his legs. Purely as a test, he told himself. To see how convincing she could be.
She tilted her head, studying him intently. “I’d like having more sex with you.” She traced his lips slowly with the tip of her tongue, and that one amazing move almost made Gabe forget this was purely a performance.
“Does that feel like I’m distracted?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute or two,” he said hoarsely. Despite all his control, his hands rose to her breasts, coaxing her nipples to hard points.
She made a ragged sound of pleasure, and Gabe kept right on touching her until she moaned again and her fingers dug beneath the waist of his pajamas.
He managed to stop her hand before it found its mark. They needed distance, he thought grimly. Anger would make her back off.
“Not bad,” he said hoarsely, “but your emotional tone was all wrong. You kissed me like a freshman on a first date.”
Summer stared at him. “I kissed you like—”
“No one in their right mind would believe we’d had sex before.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You big, arrogant—”
“But it doesn’t matter. We’re leaving in less than an hour.”
She took a sharp breath and glared at him. At least she didn’t look vulnerable and uncertain now, Gabe thought. That was the good news.
The bad news was she looked as if she might shoot out both kneecaps if he said another word. He made a production of checking his watch. “I have to shower, then I’ll meet up with Izzy and see you downstairs.”
“You want to know what you can do with your emotional tone, Morgan?”
“Sorry, no time.” Gabe closed the bathroom door quickly and heard a thud as her shoe hit hard. The outside door slammed shut a moment later.
He ran a hand through his hair. Thank God she’d gotten angry. One more gut-wrenching kiss and he’d have stripped her naked while they took the long road to oblivion all over again.
All the way down the hall, Summer kept waiting for her heart to stop pounding.
Had she lost her mind? This was work, and emotions had no business intruding.
In a blur she walked through the lobby, dodging bags and early arrivals while she continued to berate herself. In all fairness, it wasn’t Gabe’s fault that she’d tangled her body around him in sleep all during the night. It wasn’t his fault that she’d practically melted all over him during one of her steamier fantasies.
She took an angry breath, sidestepping a group of American tourists who were awaiting a tour departure. Why did the wretched man refuse to admit that his knee was bothering him? Summer was certain his movements had been jerky when she’d first come out of the shower.
She smiled at the waiter, who showed her to a table overlooking the crowded lobby. After a cursory glance at the menu, she chose oatmeal and coffee for herself, then placed Gabe’s order, explaining that her husband would join her shortly.
Her stomach tied up in knots. She had no experience with relationships or the kind of passion she’d experienced with Gabe. Her coworkers back in Philadelphia called her coolheaded, even stoic, but behind her back they called her a variety of nasty names that involved the word ice.
Yet Summer felt anything but cold remembering the things Gabe had done to her in the night. In fact, every nerve clamored for her to go back upstairs and maneuver his lean, hard body exactly where she wanted it.
Hammering her brains out.
She closed her eyes and made a hopeless sound. Maybe she was just punchy from adrenaline and lack of sleep.
Summer realized that a man at a nearby table was staring at her. She looked away, avoiding his eyes, and noticed that two tables away another man was showing equal interest.
Why? Was her sweater crooked? Did she have food on her face?
Bewildered, Summer checked the mirrored column near her table, stunned to see a stranger with glowing cheeks and sexy, mussed hair. All of it came courtesy of Gabe and the amazing sex that had kept her up half of the night. That was no illusion.
But what happened to them now?
Torn by indecision, Summer watched the waiter arrange plates on the table. She couldn’t pretend what she felt for Gabe was limited to their work. Her breasts still stung from his stubble and her thighs ached from the force of his slow, powerful possession.
But Summer was a woman who never, ever lost control. She didn’t groan men’s names and claw their chests in the middle of hot, out-of-control sex.
Until last night. Until Gabe.
She closed her eyes, remembering how she’d sprawled over him in her sleep. She’d bit him and clawed him, but afterward she had curled up against him, feeling absolutely secure and protected in his embrace.
Though they were barely more than strangers.
Light-headed, she stared at the eggs and oatmeal cooling on the table. She had to end this emotional turmoil now. She refused to confuse good sex with lasting commitment or love. Only a fool would make a mistake like that.
Gabe knew that, too. That had to be why he’d criticized her, to remind her they were playing a role and nothing more. He was right, she realized sadly.
But it hurt. Oh, how it hurt.
Gabe appeared in the doorway and spotted Summer. Awareness punched him in the chest even though he’d seen her only ten minutes before. They’d just have time to eat before they met Izzy, and he realized he was ravenous.
Summer’s face was unreadable as he sat down.
A few minutes later his cell phone rang.
“Yes,” he said tersely, while he monitored traffic at the front of the hotel.
“It’s me.” The voice was Underhill’s, low and shaky. “They discovered the guard you left tied up in the shed, and now all the staff is being watched. I have new information for you, but the only way I can make contact with you is if you keep your morning appointment. Understand? Have your driver go around and wait at the loading dock behind the lab. I’ll meet you for your tour.”
“Impossible.”
“It’s vital information about Costello—and someone else in your government. A senator.”
“Keep talking,” Gabe said coldly.
“I can’t. There are people here.”
“You can’t get away?”
“Don’t you think I’d try if I could?” Underhill’s voice broke. “I need your help. No one will question a hotel limousine carrying prospective clinic patients. If you don’t come here, I—” He stopped suddenly. His voice changed, all flat and businesslike. “Yes, I’ll be right there. Of course I remember the staff meeting.” Underhill cleared his throat. “And you’ll have those beakers and pipettes ready for me by tomorrow morning? Excellent. I’ll be over in a moment.”
The phone went dead. Underhill had company, it seemed.
Gabe put away the phone. “Change of plans. We need to keep our clinic appointment after all. Underhill has new intel about Costello’s connections. One of them may be a senator. Underhill can’t get away and we need what he knows, so we get ready to move.” Gabe glanced at Summer. “Any problems with that?”
She frowned. “Let’s go change so we can meet Izzy and then finish this.”
Izzy was sitting on the back fender of a dusty Jeep Rubicon with 32-inch tires and a gouged hood.
Gabe checked out the rugged car with interest. “Nice wheels, Teague. You do much off-roading?”
“You better believe it. This baby has skid plates, front and rear differential wheel locks, and reinforced driveshafts. I could take a rock wall without spilling my coffee.”
“No kidding.”
Summer cleared her throat loudly. “Before you two get swept up in the passions of engine torque and gearing ratios, I’d like an update on Underhill.”
“Coming right up.” Izzy produced a sleek PDA and pushed a few buttons.
“What’s that?” Summer asked, peeking over his shoulder.
“High-res satellite shots of the clinic. We happen to be in luck, because there are no clouds today.”
“Those are real-time high-res shots?” Gabe shook his head. “I don’t want to know how you got clearance for that.”
“That’s right, you don’t.” Izzy zoomed in on an image, frowning. “Something’s going on. There’s a hell of a lot more activity at the clinic than when I checked last.”
“What kind of activity?”
“Two Mercedes, a Hummer, and three delivery trucks. More workmen from the electrical company that was working on-site at the clinic yesterday. No sign of Underhill, but something’s definitely happening over there.”
“Not good.”
“What do you say?” Izzy asked quietly.
Gabe sat down on the opposite fender of the Jeep. “Stay ready to move, but let’s give it ten minutes. I want to know what’s happening at the clinic.”