Iris Johansen - Dead Aim

He knelt beside her and put the sketch on her lap. "Alex." And Alex was the name scrawled at the top of the sketch. Strength. Alertness. Intelligence. Radiance.

She couldn't speak for a moment. "I'm… overwhelmed." "Good."

"Is that how I look to you?"

He grinned. "Hell, no. It's just a ploy to get you into bed. I use it on all the babes." His smile faded. "You know me well enough to know that I'll be honest with you. Even if I weren't honest with you, I'd be honest with the work. The work always has to be honest and clean and true." His fingers lightly traced the line of her cheek. "It was no problem with you. I had it all right in front of me."

She couldn't breathe. His fingers were warm and whisperlight, but it was as if she felt that touch in every nerve of her body. His face… hard, totally focused, intent.

She slowly lifted her fingers and touched his lips.

He went still. Then he moved his head so that his lips were pressed to her palm.

She went rigid. Heat. Jesus, her whole body was ready. She shuddered as his tongue touched her palm. Then it was gone. He was gone as he rose to his feet. "No."

She watched him in bewilderment as he backed away from her. What did he mean, no? She was so hot she was about to melt into a puddle.

"Not fair. You were breaking apart from talking about your father and then I threw the damn sketch at you." His lips twisted. "And I did it on purpose. I was hard and hurting. I wanted you and it was a way to get you."

"What?"

"Manipulation. Only I forgot I wasn't dealing in that particular commodity anymore." He moved toward his bedroom. "You want me, you come and get me."

She sat there, dazed, as the door slammed behind him. What the hell? She felt as if she'd fallen into the center of a volcano, only to have it turn to ice. No, not ice. She was shocked, but she was still as sexually aroused as the moment he'd first touched her.

It had been totally unprincipled of him to try to manipulate her. Just what she'd expect of a man of his background.

But that was a generalization, and you couldn't generalize with Morgan. He was a law unto himself. Who knew what he'd do next?

You want me, you come and get me. Damn him.

She got to her feet, strode toward his bedroom, and threw open the door. He was standing in the middle of the room, unbuttoning his shirt.

"Am I supposed to appreciate having to make the moves? Well, I don't. It's damn difficult." She drew a deep breath. "I want you. I've come to get you. Now, dammit, it's in your court. I want a little seduction."

"You're sure?"

She crossed the space between them and laid her head against his chest. His skin was smooth, warm, except for a thatch of springy hair. She rubbed her cheek against him and felt the muscles of his stomach clench as a shudder went through his body. "I don't want to be saved from you. I can save myself."

"You're not doing a very good job."

"Didn't you say live every moment as though it was my last?" "But you don't agree with that philosophy."

"Tonight I do." Her voice was uneven. "It will take forever to get my shirt off with this blasted shoulder. Will you stop standing there and help me, dammit?"

His hands slowly closed on her shoulders. "Oh, yes. I'll help you. Any way, every way. Just tell me…"

"Did I hurt you?" She chuckled. "Which time? Isn't it a little late to worry about damaging me?"

"No. Did I hurt you?"

She pretended to solemnly consider the question. "I think I felt a twinge in my shoulder the third time, but it went away quickly. Or maybe I was just distracted." Her teeth sank playfully into his shoulder. "Gee, did I hurt you?"

"No, you aroused me. Want to go again?"

"Soon." She nestled closer. "Lord, you have stamina. I need a little break."

"Okay." He sat up in bed. "I'll go get my sketch pad." "Don't you dare." She jerked him back down. "I'm not about to pose nude." "Just your face," he whispered. He kissed her. "I want to remember your face like this. You… glow." She swallowed to ease the sudden tightness of her throat. "Yeah, sure, and someday when I least expect it, I'll find myself in a gallery window." "No. If I did a nude of you it would be just for me. I'm feeling very possessive." He kissed the hollow of her throat. "Just your face…" "Maybe later." She pulled his head down to her breasts.

"Suddenly, I'm not feeling tired anymore…"

Fairfax, Texas

If he was supposed to look for something unusual at this factory, then the trip was a washout. Scott moved quietly down the hall, pausing for a moment to glance into the labs as he passed. No chemicals. Lots of electronic gadgetry. Charts… He went into one of the labs and checked a chart. Nothing definitive. No names or places, just numbers, graphs, and percentages. No wonder they had been left behind when the plant had been closed down. They told absolutely nothing. Galen was going to be disappointed.

He dialed Galen's number. "No luck. No chemicals. A lot of electronic gadgets, a few graphs that tell nada."

"Have you covered the entire factory?"

"First and second floors." He opened the door and started down the stairs. "I'm going down to the basement now."

"What about the night watchman?"

"No sign of him. I'm keeping a lookout, but so far I can't see why they'd need one." He reached the landing and started down the second flight. "Long flights of stairs. Deep basement…"

"Were there any notes or papers in the desks?"

"Clean as a whistle. The drawers looked like they'd been cleaned by a Shop-Vac." He'd reached the door and tried it. "Hold on. The basement door's locked. I've got to open it." He got out his skeleton keys and patiently tried a dozen before one opened the door. "Got it." He swung the door open. "Now, let's see-dammit." He jumped back into the stairwell. "I almost fell in."

"Fell in where?"

"I don't know. I just felt myself going." He shone the flash light into the darkness of the basement. "Holy shit." "Talk."

"It's weird. There's no floor. The basement is huge. It probably runs under the plant and the grounds around it. It's just dirt and holes, deep holes that seem to go clear to China." He shone the light around the walls. "That's all there is here. Just dirt and those holes. I'd say this qualifies as unusual. I'll take a couple pictures and you can see for your-"

Hot pain exploded inside him. "Christ!"

He should have watched his back. Only amateurs… He should have…

Alex rubbed her cheek back and forth in the hollow of his shoulder. "Who's Runne?"

Morgan went tense. "What?"

"He must be someone pretty important to you to make you talk in your sleep."

His muscles relaxed. "Is that where you heard the name?"

"Where else?"

"Runne sometimes seems to be omnipresent." He kissed the top of her head. "He's just someone I used to know." 'Which means you're not going to tell me."

"Maybe someday. It's an ugly story and I'm not about to spoil a good thing when I've got it." His hand covered her breast. "And it's a very good thing."

Yes, it was. She had never had it this strong or hot or sweet. Full of stormy power and tension… and tenderness. She had never imagined Morgan as tender, but she had learned gossamer gentleness always followed the storm.

"I… liked it." He chuckled. "You loved it. You just want to keep me in my place." "And what is your place? Every time I turn around you keep moving and expanding the territory." "But it's such intriguing territory." He brushed his lips over her nipple. "And you certainly didn't object to my moving a little while-" His phone rang on the bedside table. "Shit. Galen better not just be telling us he has nothing to tell us." He flipped on the phone. "What is it, Galen?"

"I think Scott's dead."