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  She could feel his arms and legs trembling. His hard length filled her to overflowing. Each time he pulled out, he took a piece of her with him. Each time he thrust deeper, he gave a piece of himself in return.

  Then suddenly he stopped.

  As his breath caught all at once, hers let go, and with one more thrust, Jack cried out in release. She covered his mouth with hers and swallowed his cries, her insides imploding, exploding.

  Reality returned in pieces. The metal wall digging into her back, the difficulty breathing, his hard length still deep inside her.

  “Jack,” she barely whispered.

  He didn’t answer.

  “Jack.”

  His head lifted from her neck. “That—that was amazing.”

  She kissed him, wanting to linger, knowing they couldn’t. “I know.”

  She waited for him to withdraw. When he didn’t she said, “Please. Someone might come.”

  He grinned. “Obviously, someone just did.”

  She knew.

  He lifted her legs and pulled out, yet still, he held on. Which was a good thing, Morgan figured, for even with the wall behind her, she wasn’t sure she could stand. He nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck, his soft sighs reminding her of what could never be.

  “I think you got the better part of the deal,” she whispered.

  “Yeah, I guess I did.”

  She kissed him, unable to keep from grinning against his mouth. “You owe me a suit.”

  “I’ll buy you one when we dock.”

  “Not really fair when I asked for this, but it’s a deal.”

  She shivered as gust of wind whipped around them and glanced down, realizing why he’d been waiting. He was still half-erect.

  Jack gave her a slightly bewildered, slightly naughty, definitely a tad embarrassed grin. Morgan started laughing, but when he joined in, she was certain she was going to cry. She swallowed hard, bending to pick up the knife.

  “I like the way you use your tools,” she said, closing and handing it back to him.

  He threw back his head and roared, before he lifted her chin, his face sobering. “Yours, too.”

  Morgan desperately needed some space between them. She pulled away. “I have to change.”

  There was that grin again. “I guess you do.”

  Banked embers in his gaze flared hot before he shrugged. He fixed his clothes, and she fixed hers. He leaned down, his palms cupping the sides of her cheek to bring her lips to his. A kiss for them both to savor.

  When Morgan finally tore her mouth away, she saw they were approaching land. The fairy tale had to be over once they docked. She had to get away from him. Gentleman that he was, though, Jack escorted her to her car. Morgan shuffled through her luggage until she found the clothes she wanted. They went up to the main cabin of the ferry, stopping at a hallway ladies’ room.

  He kissed her once. Hard. “Go ahead. I’ll be out here when you’re done.”

  Jack would never know how innocently he was wounding her. “Will you?”

  He kissed her again, deeper this time. “Absolutely,” he reiterated, letting go.

  Morgan went into the ladies’ room, changed in a stall, then went to the sink, catching her reflection in the mirror. She remembered crashing the wedding at the hotel, eating appetizers and drinking wine on the patio, shivering not from the chill ocean breeze but from the heat exuding from his gaze.

  “Friend of the bride or friend of the groom?” he’d asked her.

  All at once she crumbled. For that moment, she let the pain consume her.

  Walking into his hotel room, Morgan convinced herself she could have one enchanted evening. How ironic was it to meet someone so right at the absolute worst time of her life?

  She clenched the edge of the sink.

  God help her, she was so in trouble.

  Chapter Two

  Jack be nimble, Jack be quick. Hey, Jack, don’t get caught by that candlestick. Because you really ought to burn for this one.

  Jack followed Morgan to her car. They were about to dock, and he knew this was going to be the diciest part of all.

  Right and wrong. That’s the way it has to be.

  He just wished it didn’t have to be so hard.

  Every time he touched her. Even now. Just following her. Watching her light brown hair brush shoulders he’d caressed with his lips not long ago. He had no control. Over his feelings or where they were going. He couldn’t understand the insane power she had over him. Because it was wrong. It meant he cared. And he couldn’t. She was just another name on a list.

  And he had to turn her in.

  Jack reached out and caught her by the shoulder, swinging her around to face him just as they reached her car. His was a couple of cars behind hers. He advanced like the predator he was. She retreated until she couldn’t back up any more. He gazed down at her, noting the vulnerability in her fawn-colored eyes, wishing circumstances could have been different. But that didn’t stop him from wanting her. So he turned off his feelings and turned on the charm.

  “I’ll be right behind you,” he whispered in her ear.

  She shivered against him. “You just won’t give up, will you?”

  He shook his head and nipped at her earlobe. “Never.”

  Moving back, he watched her smile up at him, wounded by her trust. Jack banished his conscience. The searing guilt in his guts had no place in this play.

  He had to stop.

  He couldn’t.

  Knowing the fires of the underworld were licking at his skin in anticipation, Jack lifted her face to his. Her eyes closed. He leaned down and tried very hard not to ravage her mouth. Instead, he gave her the lightest of kisses while his whole being centered on that kiss. They both came down to earth slowly.

  “You’ll wait for me to park my car in the lot?” he asked.

  Her eyelids shuttered. The moment died a slow death, and a shot of pain accompanied the anger that scorched through his belly. So she had been thinking about ditching him. “Yes.”

  “You promise?”

  “Yes.” Her slight hesitation made him certain she was lying, and the pain only got worse. Jack knew he had to take control of the situation, and he knew exactly how. He rubbed against her, letting her feel her full effect on him.

  “Mmmm.”

  He covered her lips with his, kissing her until she sagged against him. “Besides, I owe you a suit,” he added, tearing himself away.

  Her head tilted upward, and her mouth reached for his, answering with a kiss. It seemed as though she was fighting the same losing battle, disobeying what he figured had to be a direct order from her brain. He didn’t care. He wanted her, disobeying his own direct orders. The world stopped turning every time their lips met, making him realize that the thought of control was merely a facade.

  You’ve really blown it this time.

  Yeah, well, the one thing he wasn’t going to blow was his assignment. No matter how right she felt in his arms, no matter how good she was with her hands, he was going to give her to the authorities and let the law decide.

  Because right’s right, and wrong’s wrong. And he’d made a promise that couldn’t be broken.

  Jack tore his mouth away, breathing hard, wondering how his lower extremities could be so disloyal. “If we could,” he growled softly in her ear. “I’d show you a few more tricks.”

  Her body began to shake with laughter. “I’m certain you could.”

  He smiled. “Lunch, then. And a suit.”

  He rimmed the shell of her ear as a reminder, and she shivered. “I already said yes.”

  “I know. But now I’m going for gold. How about a Holiday Inn?”

  She leaned back to stare at him, her smile fading. Caution warred with a hint of despair in her gaze. “I thought we agreed—”

  He put a finger to her lips and gave her a sheepish grin. “Can’t blame a guy for trying, can you?”

  Her face fell. “Just don’t blame me because I can’t
.”

  He nodded and sighed, not having to make his disappointment real. Mentally, he slapped himself. She was going to bolt the minute she got off the ferry, and he had to be ready for that. He leaned in once and kissed her forehead, then opened her car door for her. She sat down in the driver’s seat.

  “I’ll follow you and park my car. We’ll take yours and go have lunch. I’m starving.”

  They both knew why.

  She smiled and nodded, but Jack could tell she’d already retreated to a place where he wouldn’t be able to touch her. He smiled back anyway.

  One enchanted evening he thought, closing the door. And he knew he’d never be the same again.

  * * * *

  The ferry stopped, and the conga line began. Since her car and Jack’s were toward the back, Morgan knew she was going to have to sit for a while. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel impatiently, trying to figure out the best way to get out of the mess she was in. Even trying to bury herself in Jack hadn’t been able to completely erase the horror that filled her soul.

  She swallowed, knowing she’d never forget the taste her discovery had left behind. She’d stumbled upon the file as she was going through her data. It certainly wasn’t hers and just thinking about it left her whole body numb. In spite of Jack’s heat, she was certain she’d never get warm again. The day seemed as if it had happened only moments ago.

  Day one. Subject female. Morbidly obese. Weight 398 pounds. Blood pressure now 189 over 95 without medication. Glucose without medication 512 mg/dL. Cholesterol 325 mg/dL. Enzymes slightly elevated. Subject in excellent spirits. Excited to be accepted into program.

  Program? What program?

  Morgan remembered her consternation as she exited out of the file and clicked on another. How had these files gotten here? No one had her access to her personal database.

  Day eight. Weight 370 pounds. Blood pressure slightly lower now, 180 over 90. Glucose down to 375 mg/dL, a marked improvement. Cholesterol not changing as rapidly. Enzymes still slightly elevated. Subject feeling much better. Very happy with results.

  Results? A hollow had filled her being. Bewildered she’d asked herself, What the hell’s going on? What is this experiment?

  Day fifteen. Weight 350 pounds. Blood pressure not changing. Still at 180 over 90. Blood chemistries not changing, but this is to be expected as the body needs to catch up with itself in regards to the rapid weight loss.

  Rapid weight loss? Was this an additional experiment that BioClin was conducting while she was working on her project?

  Total comprehension eluded her as Morgan skipped a couple of file folders and went to one marked a month later.

  Day thirty-two. Weight dropping too quickly. Patient now at 300 lbs. Blood pressure spiking again at 198/100. Began administering beta-blockers again as a precaution. Glucose at 225 mg/dL. Enzyme levels still elevated. CRP level very high indicating inflammation within the body. Patient has begun to run a low-grade fever and exhibits general malaise. Advised this might be a reaction to the extremely rapid weight loss.

  All of a sudden the notations began to sink in, and she remembered her heart beginning to pound. The journal read much like the notebook she’d kept on Pinky and Louie. Someone had stolen her process. Not only that, but whoever did steal it had used it on a human test subject.

  With trembling fingers, she’d opened up another folder down in the series.

  Day fifty. Subject deteriorating rapidly even though all therapy halted fifteen days ago. Weight at 250 lbs. Skin folds becoming a problem because of bacterial infections. Blood pressure still spiking even with beta-blockers. Blood chemistries normal except cholesterol levels have remained high at 300 mg/dL in spite of the statin therapy, and liver enzymes have climbed to near-critical levels. CRP levels extreme. Muscle and skeletal mass decreasing at an alarming rate. Debating hospitalization at this point. Patient exhibiting bodily stress akin to acute starvation. Patient on constant nutrient drip. Hypothesis: the more nutrients consumed, the more the body is burning. Considering halting all nutrients to see if metabolism slows down.

  Morgan hadn’t wanted to read any more. She’d taken the same steps with her test mice. Once the metabolic rate reached a certain stage, it couldn’t be turned off, even if the subject starved.

  Murderer.

  Her mind had refused to accept the sentence. She’d begun working on weight-loss theories and drugs to save lives, not take them.

  Murderer.

  * * * *

  Morgan shook her head as anger ignited once again in her belly. What that “who” didn’t realize was Morgan was part pit bull. She was going to find out who killed this woman if it was the last thing she did.

  And that meant no more Jack.

  With a shiver and a swift shake of her head, she reined in her libido and tried to think. Her first priority was to get away from him. Maybe she could lose him as they shopped. Maybe she could use the excuse of the ladies’ room in the restaurant he wanted to go to, and leave through the back door.

  Knowing her luck, they wouldn’t have a back door. For a moment her mind flashed on what they could do with a back door. Damn you, Jack, she thought, wishing his arms held her tight once more. When they did, reality disappeared.

  Morgan inched the car forward and pulled off the ferry. She glanced in the rearview mirror to see Jack hadn’t pulled out of line yet. She snorted. He didn’t trust her. But at least now they were in the parking lot and the line was moving faster.

  The car in front of her pulled forward. Morgan was so engrossed in trying to figure out what to do that she didn’t follow right away. This allowed a uniformed guard to walk in front of her car.

  What the—

  Morgan’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. Why was a guard standing in front of her car, signaling to her? Her heart shot to her throat. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

  The guard motioned for her to pull out of line to her left. She bit her lip. She couldn’t run him over, and she didn’t dare pull out.

  She flipped her head to the left and then to the right. Wait a minute. If she pulled out, she could go around the traffic and get out of the parking lot through the entrance instead of the exit. She just had to get around the guard first.

  She frowned and nodded at the guard as if she didn’t understand what was going on. She hit the automatic button for the window to bring it down to get the guard to walk around the car to come and speak with her.

  As he moved, the car in front of her pulled forward. She pulled the steering wheel to the left and edged around between the other car and the guard. She was just about to step on the gas pedal when another man stepped in front of her car.

  Sandy-brown hair, dark glasses, and a black suit. All she could think of at the moment was police, FBI. Her heart slammed into overdrive as fight-or-flight took over. She jerked the wheel hard around him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another car approach, trying to cut her off from the left.

  Pulling back hard to the right, Morgan clipped the other car with her front fender but not hard, just enough to bounce off and steady her car so she could burn rubber out of the entranceway.

  Without thought, without knowing how she managed to miss the guy, Morgan drove. She saw a sign that said EXIT and followed blindly, having no clue where she was going. Then she noticed she was on some kind of long access road and to her left was the highway. She hit the gas.

  Long moments followed before she got the courage to look in the rearview mirror. She expected a line of police cars to be after her.

  All she saw was Jack’s car.

  Jack?

  What the hell was he doing following her?

  The man had to be insane—it was the only logical reason.

  He held his own as she sped down the highway. She took several deep breaths, told her heart to cut it out before she had a heart attack, and loosened her grip on the steering wheel. She looked down at the speedometer and realized she had to slow down. The
last thing she could afford was an accident. She certainly didn’t want anyone to get hurt.

  Then it hit her. What was she going to do about Jack?

  Lose him.

  How? She had no real 007 training. Tell him the truth? Out of the question. Wouldn’t that make him an accessory after the fact? Morgan wasn’t positive. She was a scientist, not a lawyer.

  No, she had to get rid of him, get him off her tail. Fast. But first she had to figure out what direction she was headed in. She didn’t have time to waste doubling back.

  Finally. A highway sign. She breathed a huge sigh of relief. By some miracle, she was headed south, exactly as she needed to be.

  Morgan finally had time to check her rearview mirror again. Jack was flashing his high-beams at her. She couldn’t really see his face, but she had a pretty good idea that he was rather confused and a lot concerned at the moment. Probably mad as hell too.

  He started tapping on his horn, and Morgan knew she had to do something. Anything. He was drawing too much attention to both of them and was becoming a liability instead of an asset.

  Just as she was about to pull into the center lane and weave her way through traffic to get rid of him, Morgan watched him pull out and come alongside her. He was signaling frantically for her to follow him.

  She couldn’t. But she did have to lose him. Maybe she could pretend she was parking, not park, and wait for him to get out of his car, and then pull away.

  She nodded to herself and began to slow, seeing a large outlet mall up ahead. She watched Jack nod. He slowed down with her, then pulled behind her again, waiting to follow.

  As Morgan pulled into the outlet mall, a strange thought struck her. Something metallic had glinted in the late-morning sun, catching her attention.

  And it begged the question. Why was Jack wearing a Bluetooth?

  Chapter Three

  “What the fuck were you thinking, Sam?” Jack yelled into his microphone, a lead ball taking up residence in his stomach. “That had to be the sloppiest setup I’ve ever seen.”