Iris Johansen - Deadlock

"Not yet."

"That's not good. We're going to have to work on it. Keep talking. Tell me about your first assignment with the U.N. Where was it?"

"Ethiopia. So sad… All that parched earth and those dying chil¬dren. I don't want to think of that now."

"Then your next assignment.

"I'm tired. I promise I won't go to sleep."

"Keep talking. Your next assignment."

He wouldn't give up, and she was too weary to argue. She tried to focus. "Yugoslavia. The museum had been almost destroyed, but there were still some vases that had been left in the ruins. A few of them were priceless, and we had to…"

"THERE'S THE HELICOPTER." Garrett stomped on the brakes. "Let's get you on board."

"I don't have to talk anymore?" she asked hazily. She hadn't no¬ticed, but the snow had been gradually lessening. She could clearly see the red-and-white helicopter several yards away. She opened the pas¬senger door. "That's good. I don't see how you stood-Bored. You must have been bored…"

"I wasn't bored." He helped her out of the jeep and called to the man who had just gotten out of the helicopter. "Open that door, Dar¬don. She's not in good shape." He lifted her in his arms and strode to¬ward the helicopter. "We need to get her to a doctor." "Hypothermia?"

"Maybe. I'm betting on delayed shock." They were talking about her, she realized. "I'm just… cold." "Yeah," Garrett said. "And we'll take care of that." "Where's Levy?" Dardon asked.

"He didn't make it." Garrett carefully placed her on the floor at the back of the helicopter. "He died the day before I got there."

"I should have known," Emily whispered. "Staunton didn't need him any longer. Choice. He gave me a choice. I should have known."

"Shh," Garrett said. "Get us out of here, Dardon."

"Right." Dardon hurried up to the cockpit. "There are some blan¬kets in the storage chest."

"I should have known."

"Emily, I need you to focus," Garrett said quietly. "Forget about Levy. We have to concentrate on making sure you're all right."

Forget about Joel? "I can't forget…" He was unzipping her jacket. "What are you doing?"

"I have to get you out of these damp clothes and get you warm. Okay?"

"I don't care. It doesn't matter." She closed her eyes, but all she could see was Staunton's expression in that moment when he had walked out of her hut. "I didn't want him to hurt anymore. I should have known."

"Whatever." He was quickly stripping her. "But Levy is dead, and you're alive. You're going to stay alive. I didn't go to all this trouble to let you go now."

"I don't want to die. I can't-" She inhaled sharply.

Warm naked flesh against her cool naked flesh.

Her eyes flew open.

"Body heat," he said tersely. "It's the quickest way to warm you."

He drew a blanket over both of them. "I'd like to say there's nothing sexual about it, but that wouldn't be true. I'm not capable of that kind of objectivity. All I can promise is that I won't let anything I feel get in the way. Now relax."

Relax? "I can't do that. It's… strange."

"I couldn't agree more." His hand stroked her hair back from her temple. "I can't remember when I've been naked with a woman who was as bruised and bloody as you. It should put me off." His lips tight¬ened. "Instead, all it does is make me want to go out and kill whoever did it to you."

His dark hair was tousled, and his eyes glittered in his lean face. She was so close she could see the sensual curve of his lips and felt the wiry hair that thatched his chest. It made her chest feel tight and it was hard to breathe. She looked away. "You did kill one of them."

"Ah, yes, Shafir."

"And you promised you'd help me with Staunton." She glanced back at him. "You're going to keep your word?" "I don't usually break a promise."

"That's not really an answer. You might have told me anything I wanted to hear to get me away from that place. I need an answer."

"What would you do if I walked away and didn't keep my word?"

"I'd still go after him. It would just take me longer."

"I'm going to call Ferguson with the CIA and tell him where Staunton is located. He may be able to get him for you."

"They weren't able to get him before this. They weren't able to save Joel." She paused. "You said you worked with the CIA only some¬times. Why this time?"

"Ferguson blackmailed me."

"How?"

He smiled. "Then you'd be able to blackmail me, too." "You don't seem to be the kind of man who could be forced to do anything."

"You'd be surprised. My philosophy has always been to do what you have to do and make sure you're paid in full later." "And you had to go after me and Joel."

"That's right." His hand was still stroking her hair with a gossamer-light touch. "I had to do it. I had no choice."

"But you have a choice whether you'll help me now."

"Not really. I do keep my word. In my business, it was necessary to inspire trust and make a profit."

"What kind of business?"

"Smuggling and other nefarious enterprises."

"You're a crook?"

"Retired." He smiled. "But my background made me uniquely qualified to find you and get you out. Are you warmer now?"

She was warmer, she realized with surprise. She didn't know at what point the chill had vanished, but her body, pressed against Gar¬rett's, felt almost flushed with heat. "Yes, you can let me go now."

"For a little while." He sat up and tucked the blanket around her. "The chill will probably come back." He got up and moved over to the storage chest. "But I need to get you fixed up first."

He was totally at ease with his nudity, she thought as she watched him rummage through the storage chest. He was a beautiful specimen of a man-tight, hard buttocks, powerful thighs, calves, and shoulders. He reminded her of a statue of Apollo she had moved from a museum in Sarajevo. But Apollo was the Sun God, and Garrett was all sleek darkness and hidden depths.

Not entirely hidden, she realized as he turned back to her. She looked quickly away from his lower body to the first-aid kit in his hand.

He chuckled. "I told you I couldn't be cool and objective. It's not my nature." He dropped to his knees beside her. "I need to clean and put some antiseptic on those wounds on your breasts. It will just take a minute." He carefully lowered the blanket. His lips tightened grimly as he gazed at her cut and swollen nipples. "The son of a bitch. Bites?"

"Yes."

"Human bites can be dirtier than an animal's. And I'd bet Shafir was as poisonous as a cobra. This may sting." He carefully cleaned and dabbed the antiseptic on the tip of each breast, then put on an an¬tibiotic cream. Then he carefully cleaned and bandaged the wound in her leg. "That's it." He covered her again and sat back on his heels. "Or is it? Do you have any other wounds that Staunton gave you?"

"Only my cut lip."

He was silent a moment. "You weren't raped?" "No, he was saving that. I wasn't hurt at all." She closed her eyes. "It was all Joel."

"Do you want to talk about it?" "No."

"It would be better if you did." "No."

"You're starting to shake again, dammit."

"Just give me time. I can't talk about it now. I won't-"

"Shh." He was suddenly holding her again, pulling the blanket over both of them. "You don't have to talk about anything you don't want to talk about. Just stop shaking."

"He hurt. Joel hurt, and I couldn't-"

"I know." He held her tighter. "It will get better, Emily."

"It's too late. He's dead. It can't get better."

"Not for him, better for you. Like it was with your father. The pain won't be as sharp after a while."

"It wasn't like my father. He died on impact. It wasn't like that."

"Shh. I'm not talking about Levy, and neither are you." His lips brushed her forehead. "We're going to lie here and, if you can, you're going to sleep."