Название: Capturing the Commando
Автор: Colleen Thompson
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежные детективы
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Shannon wondered how many of the parents knew the true facts behind the adoptions they were paying for in the form of exorbitant fees. And how many hearts would shatter when the hideous truth unfolded. Yet she couldn’t let that be her worry, not with so many families desperate to find their stolen children, children who were the last, most sacred legacies of the women who’d been lost.
“You haven’t given me a shred of proof that Garrett’s involved,” said Rafe. “You’re only tossing pebbles at a window—distracting me enough to get me worrying about him. Of course, that’s the way I would’ve played it, too. More subtle like that, don’t you think? Better to work the wedge of doubt in slowly, instead of pounding it so hard it shatters.”
Shannon blew an impatient breath through pursed lips. Of course it couldn’t be easy. Not with Rafe so aware of her desperation to derail him, to bring him in to save her career. And maybe their lives, too, because she had seen enough to know that in an operation, almost anything could happen. Including outcomes no one involved intended. “Just think about it. That’s all I ask. Pay attention to how he acts, to anything that doesn’t feel right.”
This time, when Rafe narrowed his eyes, there was nothing fleeting about his suspicion. “You are good, Special Agent Brandt. You’re damned good. But you’ve got one huge shortcoming in this situation.”
“You mean other than the handcuffs, stun gun, weapons, and huge height and weight advantages you’ve got on me?” she asked sarcastically, her headache flaring as she rolled her eyes.
This time, when he reached toward her, his touch was gentle, almost playful, as he flicked his callused fingertips beneath her chin. “Your main problem is, I’m better. And I’ve been two steps ahead of you from the very start.”
Chapter Four
Shannon’s unruffled demeanor impressed the hell out of Rafe. She was either almost unbelievably cool under pressure or the finest actress he had ever met.
“How ’bout unlocking these cuffs now?” she asked him. “It’s darned awkward, using the restroom, and besides, I’d really like to catch a shower if I could.”
“A shower,” he echoed flatly. “With everything that’s going on, you’re thinking about soap and water and fluffy towels?”
Her smile hinted that, as with everything else she’d said and done since awakening, this new ploy had its purpose. “Fluffy towels? In this place? If that happened, it would be the second-biggest surprise of my day so far.”
“If you’re thinking of escaping, you should know that the bathroom has no windows,” he warned. “And if you’re thinking about potential weapons, I’ll be searching you before I let you out. Thoroughly.”
She stood and approached him, her shackled hands raised and her palms turned up as if in supplication. But there was nothing pleading in her eyes, only the glint of mild amusement. Maddening amusement, just short of mockery.
Or was it something else? Was she coming on to him now? Thinking to seduce her way out of this? Trying to get him worked up with the thought of her tight curves beneath the sluicing water—lathered, naked and hotter than the tropical late-summer night?
He nearly groaned aloud at his body’s immediate reaction. Damn her anyway, for trotting out this tactic. Why couldn’t she stick with something simple, like attempting to claw his eyes out or kick every woman’s favorite target up through the roof of his mouth? Those threats, he was equipped to deal with, just as he had been with her attempt to poison his mind against Garrett.
“I promise, I’m not thinking of anything but rinsing the dried blood out of my hair and the grit off of my skin,” she said innocently.
As if he bought that act for a second.
Confirming his suspicions, she added, “I’m also thinking we could have a long wait for your friend Garrett to come back. A very long wait…if he ever comes back at all.”
“He’ll be back, all right, though I’m thinking it might take him a while to work up the nerve to make your little purchase.” Rafe emphasized the word to show her that he didn’t buy that tampon story for a second.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a handcuff key. Unable to resist the temptation to see how far she was willing to take this latest attempt to distract him, he lifted the key toward her face and leaned in to whisper, “If I unlock those cuffs, how do I know you’ll be good?”
She didn’t step back—didn’t yield an inch—only looked up into his face through beautiful, long lashes, a knowing smile playing on her full lips. But to his surprise, her voice gave away a nervous tremor as she whispered, “Are you sure you really want me…to be good?”
It zinged through his awareness—how close they were standing and how very few steps it would take to sweep her to the bed beneath him. As a distraction, Rafe tried mentally running through the alphabet in reverse. To his infinite annoyance, his thoughts couldn’t make it past the letter x.
As in X-rated. Damn it. How was he supposed to stay two steps ahead of her when he was thinking with his…
“Yes,” he managed to say, sliding his key into the tiny lock, turning it slowly and feeling the click of a steel cuff disengaging. His gaze lingered on her pale wrist, on the reddened indentation, the slight bruising, and the way her skin had chafed beneath the metal.
Yet another injury his actions had inflicted on her.
Before he could stop himself, he stroked his thumb across the subtle damage gently, an attempt to rub the sting from her impossibly soft flesh.
“No,” she said sharply, her gaze dropping as she turned away and shook her head. “I’m sorry… I can’t—I just can’t do this.”
Rafe felt the perspiration beading on his forehead, felt the burn of shame that made him want to crank the room’s noisy AC down to glacial. Laying a palm atop her shoulder, he gave her what he hoped would pass for a sympathetic squeeze. “I’d be disappointed in you if you could. And more disappointed in myself if I weren’t Ranger enough to control my…”
Control what? His attraction? Because it was definitely more than simple lust that he was feeling. It was the perfect storm of his awareness of her body, his appreciation of the intelligence sparkling in her blue eyes, and his growing admiration for the way she was handling herself in one hell of a tough situation. “Control myself,” he finished. Nodding toward the bathroom, he added, “Go on now, sugar, and get that shower, will you? Before I change my mind.” Or stand here like some idiot, fantasizing about joining you.
Stress—that was all this was. Worry and grief, nothing more. Furious at his failure to maintain discipline, he swore beneath his breath, while Shannon wasted no time hurrying into the bathroom. The door clicked closed behind her, and he cursed again to hear it lock. But he couldn’t say he blamed her, and besides that, he had more important worries at the moment.
Such as where the hell was Garrett? He should’ve checked in by now, at least. Though Rafe hated himself for it, he couldn’t help but wonder if there had been any truth to Shannon’s accusations.
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