Dangerous to Know (32 page)

Deliberately Adam decided to take advantage of the diversion her growling stomach offered. They had a few more hours. He needed the time to think. To absorb the gut-wrenching impli
cations of her blithe comment. Maggie was right. He knew it with a cold, chilling certainty. She was the bait. She was the one they were after. Not Taylor Grant. Her.

Whoever had targeted the vice president could have hit without warning. Yet the assassin had signaled his intent with that anonymous phone call. He'd issued a threat he must have known would activate an elaborate screen of defenses.

Somehow, some way, that call had led to the attack on Maggie. Not Taylor. Maggie.

Adam didn't know why or who or how, and at this moment he didn't care. His only concern was to keep Maggie alive until they could unravel this increasingly bizarre situation.

They had a few more hours. A few precious hours. He needed to think.

“Maybe it's time to break out the emergency rations,” he suggested evenly.

“Rations?” She swept their small pile of supplies with a quick glance. “What rations?”

He reached for his blue ski jacket.

“Adam!” She scrambled up on her knees, her face alight. “I forgot all about your stash of biscuits! And bacon!”

He fished around in the deep pocket, then withdrew his hand and flipped the jacket over to reach the other.

The eager anticipation in her eyes gave way to a look of comic dismay. “Oh, God, I hope they didn't fall out of your pocket when we did that wheelie through the pass. We were standing on our heads.”

“No, here they are.”

He drew out a napkin-wrapped bundle, and Maggie scuttled closer while he unwrapped the edges of the cloth. When the treasure was uncovered, it turned out to be little more than a handful of crumbled dough and bits of bacon, gray with cold, congealed grease.

The unappetizing sight didn't deter Maggie at all. She pinched a bite between thumb and forefinger and popped it into her mouth. Closing her eyes, she savored the tiny morsel.

He had to smile at her beatific expression. “Good?”

“Mmm…wonderful!”

Eyes closed, head back, she wiped her tongue around her lips in search of stray crumbs.

Adam's fist clenched on the napkin. Their small nest wasn't quite a penthouse suite, and the pile of crumbs in his hand hadn't come from a beribboned basket of imported delicacies. Yet the same primitive urge that had swept him in L.A. crashed through him once again. Now, as then, he wanted to feed her. Bit by bit. Bite by bite.

But here, in this tiny snow cave, with danger all around them, the swamping, driving urge intensified a hundredfold. Subtly, swiftly, it shifted from erotic to primordial.

It was a matter of survival. Of responding to the basic instincts that drove all species. This woman was his mate. Adam wanted to feed her, and protect her, and love her. The realization that he might be able to accomplish only two out of the three made his stomach twist. That, and the knowledge that Maggie didn't want protection.

Of any sort.

His gaze roamed her upturned face, and Adam knew he'd love her differently if she did. He'd still want her with a need so raw it consumed him. He'd still lose himself in her laughing eyes. Without the fierce independence that made her Maggie, however, he'd love her with a different need.

Somehow he suspected that need wouldn't be anywhere near as powerful as the one that drove him now.

Uncurling his fingers, he found a fair-size sliver of cold bacon.

“Open your mouth.”

Her eyes opened instead.

She glanced from his face to the morsel in his fingers, then back to his face.

“Aren't you going to have any?”

“No.”

“You didn't have any breakfast. Aren't you hungry?”

“Yes. Very. But not for bacon. Let's feed you, and then we'll feed me.”

The small stash of food and their clothes disappeared at approximately the same time.

 

With the passing hours, the light filtering through the snow-laden branches overhead grew brighter, then gradually dimmed.

They took turns dozing, and risked one trip outside the cave for a quick surveillance and an even quicker trip behind some bushes. After the warmth of the air trapped in the small cave, the outside seemed twice as cold. Maggie eyed the shadows drifting across the slopes as the sun played hide-and-seek among the tall peaks. They'd have to leave their small nest soon.

Her teeth were chattering by the time they'd blocked the entrance up again. She sat cross-legged on the Mylar mat and tucked her hands into her armpits to warm her fingertips.

“What time is it?”

Adam shoved back his sleeve. “Almost four. It should be dark in an hour.”

“We'll have to leave then.”

“We will.”

She was silent for a moment, marshaling her thoughts. The muted growl that filled the small cavern took them both by surprise.

Maggie's red brows snapped together as she frowned down at her stomach.

“We cleaned out our entire supply of emergency rations,” Adam reminded her. “You'll have to wait until we get back to—”

Another low growl rumbled through the air.

Maggie shook her head. “It's not me this time,” she whispered.

Nodding, Adam reached for his pistol.

Maggie had hers in hand, as well, when they heard the scratching in the snow at the entrance to the tunnel.

Adam's jaw hardened. “Get dressed,” he hissed. “Fast. Put on as many layers as you can.”

As quickly and quietly as possible, Maggie scrambled into her clothes. Not for warmth. If a wild animal was digging at the
entrance to their lair, she'd need the layers for protection against fangs and claws. And if the predator was of the two-legged variety, she didn't want to face him in her underwear.

Zipping her jacket up to her chin, she handed Adam his. While he pulled it on, she kept her pistol leveled at the entrance. Automatically they positioned themselves at either side of the tunnel entrance, out of the line of fire.

Another low, hair-raising growl convinced her their uninvited guest was close to gaining entry. Her finger tightened on the trigger.

The snow shifted. A black nose poked through the white. Sniffed. Pushed farther. More snow crumbled, and a muzzle covered in thick ropes of snowy fur appeared.

Radizwell!

Maggie sagged against the wall in relief, but had the presence of mind not to speak. The animal might not be alone out there. He might well have led a strike team right to them. Or a rescue team.

When he finally gained entrance, they discovered he hadn't led anyone to them at all. Apparently he'd come in search of Adam. And more bacon. The reproachful look the dog turned on Maggie when he discovered the empty, grease-stained napkin filled her with instant guilt.

W
ith the komondor's arrival, the air in the small cave became suffocatingly warm and decidedly aromatic. Crushed pine needles couldn't begin to compete with the aroma drifting from his ropes of uncombed fur, or his doggy breath. Nor could Maggie or Adam move without crawling over or under or around the animal.

She nodded when Adam suggested that the dog's arrival necessitated a change in plans. With less than an hour of daylight left, they couldn't take the chance that someone might pick up the dog's tracks and follow them here. They should scout out a better defensive position until they could call in the extraction team.

Maggie crawled out of the snow cave with mixed emotions. As much as she hated to leave their private nest, she needed air. Adam followed a moment later. Keeping to the shelter of the towering conifer, they breathed in the sharp, clean scent of snow and pines. Radizwell hunkered down on Adam's other side, pointedly ignoring her. Maggie suspected that he still hadn't
quite accepted this stranger in Taylor's clothes. Or forgiven her for the empty, bacon-scented napkin.

They stood still and silent for long moments, searching the slopes above and below. Nothing moved. No sounds disturbed the quiet except the distant, raucous call of a hawk wheeling overhead and Radizwell's steady panting. The sun slowly slipped toward the high peaks, deepening the shadows cast by the towering trees and bathing the snow in a soft purple light.

“We'll have to head farther east,” Adam murmured after a few moments. “Just in case they picked up Radizwell's tracks and are heading this way.”

He pointed toward a jagged ridge a short distance away. “Let's try for those rocks. Even if the wrong people lock on to our signal, it will be harder to see us up there at night. We can hold them off until the extraction team gets here.”

Maggie drew in a deep breath. “I don't think we should hold them off. We should try to pull them in.”

He swung around to face her. “We've already talked about this.”

“We started to,” she said evenly, “but my growling stomach interrupted us. As I recall, we got sidetracked by a few cold biscuits and bacon bits.”

A small smile tugged at his mouth. “So we did.”

As much as she wanted to, Maggie didn't let herself be drawn in by the softening in his face or the glint in his eyes. She'd known this confrontation with Adam would come, and she was ready for it.

Keeping her tone brisk and businesslike, she reiterated the conclusions they'd reached in the cave.

“Look, we both agree the scope of the mission has changed somewhat.”

“Somewhat?”

“Okay, a lot. But my basic role in the operation hasn't changed at all. I'm still the bait.”

“You were the bait when we thought we were dealing with a single assassin. Now we know that individual has a whole team backing him up.”

“That's just it, Adam. I'm still the one they want. I'm still—”

She stopped abruptly, frowning.

“I'm still the one they want,” she said slowly. “The one
he
wants.”

Adam stiffened, and in his eyes Maggie saw an echo of the same suspicion that was forming in the pit of her stomach like a cold, heavy weight.

“He wants me.” She articulated each word with careful precision, not wanting to believe them, even as she said them. “He wants me. Not Taylor Grant. Me.”

He didn't answer. Didn't say a word, and his silence hammered at Maggie like a crowbar striking against a metal wall.

“You think so, too, don't you? Don't you?”

“I admit the idea occurred to me. But—”

“But nothing! This unknown assassin knew how to by-pass the White House phone system. Which meant he probably could have circumvented the personal security system and gotten to the vice president any time he wanted. But he didn't really want her, did he? He wanted me. I've been the target all along.”

She stared at Adam, stunned. “That's it, isn't it, Adam? You know it as well as I do. He wants me.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “All right, Maggie. Let's say you're right. Let's say he wants you. Who is
he?
”

She shook her head. “I don't know. Whoever made that call.”

“Who? Who made it?”

“I don't know.”

Snow crunched under his boot as he took a step toward her. “Think! Who wants you dead?”

“I don't know!”

Radizwell picked up on the tension arcing through the air between them. He whined far back in his throat and padded forward to nudge a jeans-clad hip. Adam ignored him, his attention focused on the woman before him.

“Who, Maggie? Who wants to get to you?”

She flung out a gloved hand. “Any one of a dozen men, and a few women, all of whom are behind bars now!”

“Why?” The single syllable had the force of a whip, sharp and stinging.

“Because they're behind bars!”

Adam's eyes were blue ice behind his black lashes. His breath came fast and hard on the cold air. “Not good enough. Try again. Think! Why would any of those people want you dead?”

“Because…” She wet her lips. “Because I know something I'm not supposed to know. Or I saw something I wasn't supposed to see. Or heard something I wasn't supposed to hear.”

The shadows obscured his face now. Maggie couldn't see his eyes, but she felt them. Narrowed. Intent. Searing.

“What? What did you see or hear? What could you know that you're not supposed to?”

“I don't know, dammit! I don't know!”

The sharp frustration in her voice sliced through the tension-filled air like a blade. Radizwell gave a low growl, unsure of the source of their conflict, but obviously unhappy about it. He edged closer to Adam. If it came to choosing teams, Maggie thought in a wild aside, the dog had already chosen his.

“What I don't understand is, why here?” she said, bringing herself under control. “Why not in D.C.? Or anywhere else? Why set this trap, using me as bait? Luring me in like this. Or—” She stopped, her eyes widening. “Or out!”

“Out, how?”

“Out of my civilian cover. My God, Adam. Maybe that's it. Maybe someone staged this elaborate charade to draw me out, because he couldn't get to me any other way. He couldn't get to Chameleon.”

The flat, hard expression on Adam's face might have signaled disbelief, or denial, or a combination of both.

“It's possible,” she insisted. “No one outside OMEGA knows our real identities. Hell, only a handful within the agency have access to that information.”

“You're saying someone set this whole thing up? Just on the chance you'd be tagged to double for the vice president?”

“It's possible,” she repeated stubbornly.

“For God's sake, do you have any idea how remote that possibility is?”

“Not that remote,” she snapped. “I'm here, aren't I?”

That stopped him. He went completely still, his arms at his sides, his hands curled into fists. His face could have been carved out of ice.

“If that's the case,” he said finally, “this all boils down to a question of who knew you might double for the vice president. Who, Maggie?”

“No one,” she protested. “No one knew, except the president, and the vice president. Lillian. Jaguar. The OMEGA team. And—”

She stopped, swallowing hard.

“And the director of OMEGA,” Adam said slowly.

She didn't breathe, didn't blink. It seemed to Maggie that her body had lost all capacity to move. Her brain had certainly lost all ability to function. It had gone numb and completely blank. The white, silent woods seemed to close in, until her world became a single, shadowed face.

“Why, Maggie?” he asked softly, bringing them full circle. “Why would any of those people want you dead?”

She struggled for an answer. Any answer. One that would satisfy him, and her. The silence spun out, second by cold, crystalline second.

A hundred chaotic thoughts tumbled through Maggie's numbed mind. A thousand shattering emotions fought for preeminence in her heart. Could Adam have brought her to this isolated spot for some desperate reason of his own? What did she know of him? What did any of the OMEGA agents know of him? His past was shrouded in secrecy. Even now, he led a double life that few knew about. He'd always kept himself so remote. His feelings so shuttered.

Until today. Until he'd held her in his arms and she'd taken him into her body. When he'd looked down into her eyes. There had been no shutters on his soul then.

Her riotous emotions stilled. The confusion dulling her mind
faded. She didn't need to know the secrets in Adam's past. She didn't care about his present double life. If she was ever going to trust her instincts, it had to be now.

Adam didn't, couldn't, want her dead.

She'd stake her life on it.

Drawing on everything that was in her heart, she summoned a valiant grin. “Well, I think it's safe to cross the OMEGA team off our ever-expanding list of suspects. I put my life in their hands every time I walk out the door. And I know the director of OMEGA wouldn't set me up like this.”

He didn't respond for long, agonizing moments. “Do you?” he said at last.

The cool, even tone was so quintessentially Adam that Maggie didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. She did neither. Instead, she folded her arms across her chest and nodded.

“I do. Although he's tried to take my head off on several memorable occasions in the past three years, he's in love with me. He hasn't admitted it yet. He may not even realize it yet. But he is. What's more, I love him. With all my heart and soul.”

If anyone had told Maggie that she'd finally articulate her feelings to Adam while standing knee-deep in snow, with cold nipping at her nose and a team of killers searching for her, she would've checked their medication levels. Of all the times and all the places to have the “discussion” she and Adam had delayed for so long!

Not that it was much of a discussion, she realized belatedly. So far, the exchange had been entirely too one-sided.

“You can jump in here anytime,” she invited sweetly.

With a sound that was half laugh, half groan, Adam swept her into his arms. He locked his fists behind her back, holding her against his chest. The deepening shadows didn't obscure his eyes now. Now they blazed down at her with a fierce emotion that warmed Maggie's nose and toes and all parts in between.

“I am. I do. I know.”

“Come again?” she asked, breathless.

“I am in love with you. I do realize it. I know you love me, too.”

“Well, well, well…”

Her smug, satisfied grin made Adam want to pick her up and carry her back to the snow cave. Hell, it made him want to throw her down in the snow right here, rip off her various layers and lose himself in her fire. He had to satisfy himself with a shattering kiss.

They were both breathing fast and hard when he pulled back. It took some effort, but Adam put her out of his arms.

“We'll finish this interesting discussion when we get out of here.”

Her mischievous smile almost shattered the remnants of his control. “It's finished. At least as far as I'm concerned. You are. You do. You know. What more is there to say?”

“Maggie…”

“All we have to decide now is what to do about it.”

“Correction. Right now we have to get you out of here. We can decide about it—about us—after we get you to a safe haven.”

Her teasing smile faded a bit. “I can't operate out of a safe haven. I'm a field operative.”

He bent to pick up their small store of supplies. “It's too dangerous in the field. I'm calling you in.”

She winced at his use of the euphemism every OMEGA agent dreaded hearing. He was calling her in. Out of the cold. Ordering her to abandon her cover and her mission.

Maggie shook her head. “Not yet, Adam. You can't terminate this mission yet. We won't find the answer in a safe haven. The answer's here, in the field.”

He didn't reply. He didn't have to. They both knew she was right. Maggie saw his jaw work. He wanted to find whoever was behind this scheme as much as, or more than, she.

“I can't go in,” she said softly, firmly. “Not yet. You wouldn't have any respect for me if I did. You wouldn't…” She circled a hand in the air. “You wouldn't see me the same way, ever again. As an agent, or as a woman. You wouldn't love me the same way.”

Her uncanny echo of his earlier thoughts pierced Adam's wall
of resistance. He would love her. He would always love her. But he would love her differently if she wasn't the Maggie who stood nose to nose with him, in the middle of nowhere, with no food, little firepower, and a killer on her trail, yet refused point-blank to run for cover.

Still, he made one last effort. “Do you think I'll ever see you the same way again after those hours in the snow cave? As a woman, or as an agent?”

“Good Lord, I hope not!”

Her startled exclamation wrung a smile out of him. Maggie pounced on it like a cat after a ball of catnip.

“Whatever else happens,” she said softly, “we'll always have those hours in the snow cave.”

“Maggie…”

“And the memory of those bits of bacon.”

She cocked her head, inviting him to capitulate, giving him the means to.

“And don't forget the feel of pine needles,” she murmured wickedly. “Prickling us in places few people have ever felt pine needles prickle before. And the interesting way we found to melt that handful of snow. And…”

“All right, Maggie. All right.” His jaw clenched. “Suppose you tell me how you think we should handle this situation.”

She wasn't the type to crow. “We keep it simple,” she said briskly. “I'm the lure. We use me to bait a trap, then spring it.”

“We stake you out like a skinned rabbit and wait for the hungry predators to arrive, is that it?”