Operation: Midnight Escape

She relaxed marginally when he handed her the glass of wine she’d left on the table. “I know it’s hard, but try to be patient,” he said.

 

“I’m tired of being patient. Of running scared. I’m tired of having to move every few months.” She turned to him, set the wine on the table. “We have to stop him.”

 

“We don’t have the resources at the moment.”

 

“There has to be a way.”

 

“I’m not going to risk getting you killed, Leigh. Obsession, jealousy and hatred are ugly emotions. Think about it. A sane man would have cut his losses and run as far away as he could.”

 

“Maybe we can find his weak spot. Use it to—”

 

“Damn it, Leigh, let me handle this.”

 

“I deserve to have my life back, Jake. Don’t take that away from me.”

 

“I’m not going to let you get yourself hurt.”

 

“I’m not some bumbling idiot. Damn it, I know Rasmussen. I know how he thinks.”

 

“Then you know he doesn’t have a conscience!” Jake shouted abruptly.

 

“I know stopping him is my only hope of ever having a normal life! Of having a future!”

 

Jake grasped her arms. “I’m not going to let him kill you!”

 

Leigh stared into his furious eyes, and realized fury was not the only emotion he was feeling. Jake Vanderpol was also frightened.

 

“You’re afraid of him,” she said.

 

His jaw flexed. “You’re damn right I’m scared! I know what he’ll do to you if he gets his hands on you. I’ve seen his handiwork, Leigh, and it’s brutal. If you weren’t so damn stubborn, you’d be afraid, too.”

 

Leigh was a hell of a lot more than afraid. She was terrified of Rasmussen. But she’d been running for too long. “If I don’t stop him, I’m giving up my life. Hiding in the shadows. Never having a future. You can’t expect me to do that.”

 

“The one thing I do expect is for you to be alive every single day for the rest of my life.”

 

“Why do you care?” she asked with sudden anger. “I’ll be living in some town so small it won’t even make the map. You won’t be there—”

 

“I care about you!” he roared. “Why can’t you get that through your head!”

 

The words struck her like a fist. Too stunned to react, she continued staring into his blazing eyes, seeing more than she wanted to see, feeling more than she wanted to feel. She spun away from him and fled, knowing she was dangerously close to making a mistake that would only bring her heartache. She heard her name behind her as she climbed up the companionway and through the hatch, but she didn’t stop.

 

Snow swirled down from a black sky. She could hear the water slapping against the pier, the boat rigging clanging against the poles in a brisk northerly wind. She heard Jake behind her, but she didn’t turn around to face him. She didn’t want him to see what she knew her face would reveal.

 

“Leigh, come back below.”

 

When she didn’t move, he went to her. He turned her toward him.

 

“It’s cold,” he said. “You’re shivering.”

 

The tremors ripping through her body had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the man.

 

“You know I’m right,” she said.

 

“I know you’ve got some very dangerous ideas floating around inside that head of yours.”

 

“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t be thinking the very same thing.”

 

“I probably would.” He sighed. “But I damn well don’t like it.

 

“I don’t like any of this.”

 

She saw snowflakes in his hair. Clinging to his lashes. He was staring at her mouth, and she knew what would happen next. She could feel the emotions winding up inside her. The physical sensations swamping her with heat.

 

“I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt,” he said roughly.

 

“I know it’s risky,” she said. “But what is the alternative? Give up my future so I can be safe? What kind of life is that?”

 

Cursing beneath his breath, he pulled her to him. Her legs went weak when he kissed her. He tasted like wine and frustration and restraint. When he pulled away, his jaw was taut. “I think I have a plan that might work,” he said, motioning toward the hatch. “Let’s go below and I’ll fill you in.”

 

IAN RASMUSSEN was accustomed to getting his way. It didn’t go over well when Derrick LeValley came to his suite and told him about the GPS transmitters.

 

“How could he possibly have known about the transmitters?” Rasmussen asked.

 

“I don’t know. It’s possible he is an electronics expert. Or he could have been in touch with one of the agents at MIDNIGHT.”

 

Rasmussen almost smiled when he thought of the federal agency that, six years ago, had brought down the empire he’d worked so hard to build. No doubt their agents were scrambling as they assisted the U.S. Marshals Service to get all of their precious witnesses covered. The small success tasted like the sweetest of chocolates. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted Kelsey. And he wanted Vanderpol dead. Until both of those things were done, he would never be able to rest.