Intrusion (16 page)

“Coburn Industries,” she said, trying to force the conversation into something that wouldn’t sound sexy rolling off Cam’s tongue. “One of Nanodyne’s biggest competitors in the private sector. Russ stands to make a lot of money by selling the armor to the highest bidder.”

“Only if we let him.” A corner of his mouth tipped into a grin, letting her know he knew exactly what she was trying to do with her sudden change of subject.

“I don’t see how we can stop him. The police aren’t going to clear our names with only this pieced together photograph as evidence.”

“So we get more.”

“At the risk of sounding obtuse, how?” She pulled out a chair and dropped into it. “It’s not as if Coburn’s going to hand it to us if we ask.”

“I hadn’t planned on asking.”

Hadn’t planned on—?

Her stomach dropped. “No way. Absolutely not.”

Could he really be suggesting they break into Coburn Industries? The scheme was absurd. Unthinkable. And she refused to even entertain the notion that they could get away with it.

“You want to hear me out first?” Cam raised a brow, an excited glimmer in his eyes that did funny things to her insides.

So she wanted him. That wasn’t a felony. But breaking into CI was—and with one felony charge already pending, did she really want to add one more punch to her prison ticket?

She reached up to massage the tension in her neck, but Cam brushed her hands aside and started kneading the tight muscle.

“I already think it’s a really bad idea.” She barely managed to capture a moan before it erupted from her throat. “I don’t think you’re going to change my mind.”

“Not even by hanging the threat of a lifetime in prison over your head? We can’t elude the police forever. Sooner or later they’re going to catch us. When that time comes, wouldn’t you rather have proof in hand?”

“But how do we get that proof? By committing a crime. I don’t see how that will help our case.”

“We document everything and take nothing, go into CI with a video camera and catch Coburn with the armor. His lab is the only secure place he could hide it. Once we have that documented proof, we’ll take it to the Feds. I still have contacts in the military. They’ll go to bat for us.”

“How do you know? What if we make the situation worse.”

He came around and knelt beside her chair. “What if we do nothing? I know what you’re thinking. You’re weighing all the options and looking for a sure thing. But sometimes you have to ignore the odds and dig deep to find a way to make it happen.” He peered into her eyes. “If you’re not comfortable doing this, I’ll do it on my own. But…I could really use your help.”

A sudden thickness filled her throat. She’d expected him to push her until she agreed to his crazy plan, and although she would’ve resented it, she would’ve gone along with it. But now that he’d given her an out, she found she couldn’t leave him to tackle this operation himself.

“So, what do we do?”

His eyes widened. “You’re in?”

“You heard me.” Was she honestly going to help him break into Coburn Industries?

Yes. He’d watched her back, now it was time to watch his. If they retrieved proof of Coburn’s culpability they’d put him behind bars. She could get on with her life—and that was the only reason she was volunteering herself.

Liar.

Cam must have thought so too; he narrowed his eyes. “I thought you didn’t want any part of this.”

“I don’t.” She wanted to bury her head in the sand instead, but her practical scientific nature had made her a realist. Sometimes too much of one.

He reached out a finger and tipped her chin to force her to look in his eyes. “Then why—”

“Because we make a pretty good—” God, was she really going to say it? “—team. You need me.”

His voice lowered, one corner of his mouth hitching. “Weren’t you the one who just tried to convince me we only needed one thing from each other?”

Want and need. Two very different things, except the lines between them had started to blur and she had trouble separating them. “I was wrong. Okay? I want to help.”

Cam swept his gaze down her body in one last long look that had her nerve endings tingling. He sent her a sharp nod. “Then let’s do it.”

***

As soon as the sun slunk beneath the horizon, the pool lights snapped on. Margaret tightened her grip on the small paring knife, and huddled at the edge of the Adirondack chair.

The night breeze stirred against her arms, teasing goose bumps from her flesh. Dried tears tightened the skin on her cheeks.

She missed Noelle so much her heart ached. What if Noelle awoke from her coma and she wasn’t there?

Footsteps echoed on the stone walkway in a familiar rhythm.
Russ.
She rose to her feet on shaky legs and braced herself on the deck. Her breath settled deep in her throat and she shifted her grip on the knife, the point barely visible in the low light.

What would he say to her? What would he do?

The gate emitted a discordant creak and then the pool area flooded with light from the overhead fluorescents.

She blinked away the bright spots clouding her vision and all of a sudden Russ was right in front of her, bearing little resemblance to the polished, indifferent man who’d locked her in this morning.

His sculpted hair stood on end, his Armani shirt half un-tucked from his khaki pants. Wild brown eyes smudged with shadows darted around the deck before landing unfocused on her.

His shaky hands reached for her. Coming close to her—her throat? Her heart pounded against her sternum. She lunged at Russ, jabbing the knife through the air, but he caught her wrist and twisted her arm to the side.

“Jesus, Margaret. What’s gotten in to you? I’m not here to hurt you.”

You already have.

Her breath shuddered from her lungs. “You scared me. You look...crazy.”

“I look crazy?” A bark of laughter shot across her face. He pried the knife from her, bending her fingers back. “Where did you get this anyway?”

She curled her hand and cradled the fist to her chest. “Cabana.”

He shook his head and shoved the knife into his pocket. “Crazy bitch.” His eyes darted past her face. “I have to move you. Now.”

“No. No, you don’t. You have to let me go.”

“God, no. Not that.” He tore a hand through his hair in a vicious gesture that had her stepping back. “Don’t give me shit, Margaret. I have enough problems right now. If Kate sees you, she’s going to eat me alive.”

Her heart stuttered to a stop. “K—Kate?”

“Yes. Kate.”

He enunciated the words as if she were nothing more than a pathetic little child.

“But, I thought—” Why
had
she still believed him about the divorce when everything else had been a lie? God, she
was
pathetic. “You never divorced Kate.”

He clapped his hands. “Give the girl a cookie.”

His cell phone rang. Frowning, he yanked it out of his pocket and checked the number. Under the sallow glow from the fluorescent lights, his complexion paled further.

He turned off the ringer and pushed the phone back into his pocket. “I’m in a bind.” His shoulders sagged. “You see, you convinced me to change my mind about selling the armor. But this—this whack job refuses to let me out of the deal. If I don’t hand it over...,” he swallowed hard, “he’s threatened to kill me, Mags. And I think he just might be crazy enough to do it.”

Russ, dead? Her throat squeezed. After all he’d done to her, he was still Noelle’s father. She couldn’t bear to think of him dead.

“So, you’re returning the prototype to Nanodyne?”

He smirked. “Give me that cookie back. No, I’m not returning it to Nanodyne. You convinced me that I don’t need more money. Prestige, though, I’ve been working towards that my whole life. And when Coburn Industries presents the first successful dynamic armor to the Department of Defense, I’ll have achieved a place in the history books.”

Had he always been so self-centered? Why hadn’t she seen it before now? She’d built him up in her mind giving him knight in shining armor qualities he didn’t possess.

No more.

“What you’re suggesting is unscrupulous.”

He laughed. “Who cares, when the end result is victory?”

What was victory without honor?

“You don’t need me.” She crossed her arms across her chest and sucked in a breath. “Just let me leave.”

He captured her jaw, tilting her chin. “I’m not the bad guy, here, Mags. You don’t need to fear me; I won’t hurt you. But I do need you to stay out of the way. I keep a personal room at CI. It has a bed, a television, its own bathroom, a mini-fridge, even a microwave. You’ll be very comfortable, just like a hotel, and I’ll make sure you have plenty of food.”

“Generous of you.” She clenched her teeth and wrenched her chin from his hands. “But I need to be with Noelle.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t let you go.”

He reached into his back pocket and withdrew something shiny. Handcuffs?

Her heart sped. He wasn’t going to let her go; he was going to chain her up and lock her in a room. Noelle would be alone. So alone.

No. She couldn’t let that happen. Not while she drew breath.

“Go to hell.” She spun on her heel and dashed for the pool house gate.

Her shoes slapped at the concrete. She could feel him. Right behind her. But the iron loomed straight ahead. Just a few more steps and she’d be free—

Russ’s hand tangled in her hair and yanked her head back. She cried out. He pushed her to the ground and her knees hit the rough cement. She tried to brace herself with her hands, but he wrenched her arms behind her back and she fell forward, her chin striking the ground. Pain vibrated up her jaw, stung at her eyes.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said, snapping the cuffs on her wrist. “I just need you out of the way for a few days. A week at most. Just until I get in touch with the Department of Defense and complete the transfer.”

Her lungs ached, her jaw throbbed, and hot tears slid down her cheeks. “What if Noelle wakes up?”

He hauled her to her feet. “I’ll check on her.”

“I don’t want you anywhere near her!” The raw cry scraped past her throat. The words hurt, but she forced herself to speak them anyway. “You’re a liar and a—a bastard.”

A bastard who had crushed her rose-colored glasses beneath the heel of his shoe, just as he’d callously crushed her heart. She’d never make the mistake of believing in dreams again.

Chapter Twelve

The sound of a door creaking open froze Cam mid push up.

He blinked at the scarred wooden floor, his biceps burning and his mind reeling. How long had he been punishing his body? It had started as a cure for insomnia, a long shot at escaping his demons, yet somewhere along the way he’d ended up running to them instead.

“Cameron?” The sound of Audra's gentle voice vibrated through him.

He shook himself and rolled into a crouch. Sweat dripped off his brow and down his temple. He looked up and watched her curvy shadow draw near the circle of light from the oil lantern on the table. She ignited his blood wearing something as simple as sweats and a t-shirt. The lantern’s flame leapt in its hurricane globe, much like desire danced in his veins.

She tempted him in ways no other woman ever had. And it wasn't just the temptation to make love to her. It was the overwhelming desire to connect with her, the knowledge that she was the one woman who made him want to truly understand each and every one of her subtle nuances. Her mind, her heart, her body...he wanted to solve all the pieces of her puzzle.

He pushed himself to his feet with a frown. “I told you not to call me Cameron. I know, you look nothing like my mom, but it messes with my head hearing it come from you lips.” Lips he wanted to taste again, to feel against his and devour until she couldn’t think straight. Hell, just thinking about it… “It’s too Oedipusian, somehow.”

Her mouth tugged into a smile. “Oedipusian, huh? Is that even a word?”

He shrugged, grabbed a glass from the drain board, and filled it with water. “It is now.” He tossed it back in three long swallows. “What are you doing awake?”

“I was going to ask you the same question.” She tipped her head and studied him like she could see past the flippancy he’d always been so careful to present to everyone. “Are you okay?”

“Sure.” His heart squeezed. He wished he hadn’t brought her here. He’d ignored his misgivings in favor of the seclusion the cabin offered, but the isolation made him feel off kilter. Raw. He gripped the sink. “You should probably go back to bed.”

“Who owns this cabin, Cam?”

“I already told you. This is the last place the police will come looking for us.”

“Not good enough. There’s something about this place…it’s hurting you. I can see it.”

He turned, leaned against the counter. “Is this where I bare my soul? Tell you my deepest darkest secrets? Because I warn you, they’re not pretty.”

Her chin lifted and her cheeks pinkened. “I doubt they could be any uglier than mine,” she said softly.

“Why, you fuck up and get one of your best friends killed too?”

Her eyes widened and she sank into the chair. Her fingers dug into the edge of the table. “What happened?”

Her hair framed her beautiful, somber face in fiery strands that glinted in the lantern glow. He wanted to tunnel his fingers through it, bury his hands in her hair—this conversation right along with them.

But if he did, he was no better than her, holding a huge chunk of himself back. Maybe if he told her she’d realize she could trust him with more than just her safety. Maybe she’d open up and show him the broken pieces of herself she worked so hard to keep hidden. Oh, he knew they were there—like attracted to like and all that—but he wanted her to willingly entrust them into his care.

He cleared his throat and let the memories wash over him.

“Ben was one of the finest men I’d ever served with. The kind of man that always had your six, you know? He laughed often and partied hard, but he was never irresponsible. We went through the Q Course together.” He joined Audra at the table and gripped the back of the chair. “Special Forces Qualification Course.” A laugh welled up in his tight chest. “The day we found out we’d been assigned to the same A-team…hell, that was some crazy celebrating. Three years ago we were sent to Afghanistan.