Carol Ericson - Catch, Release

Her emerald gaze dropped below his belt. “Did it excite you?”

He turned his back on her with the blood running hot in his veins. He snagged the purse by the handle and dumped its contents on the carpet at Deb’s feet.

The .45 thudded to the floor—not Deb’s usual weapon. As he recalled, she preferred a Glock. Shoes tumbled out along with a ski mask and a tangle of jewelry.

Why would she want this stuff? She’d had a tough life as a kid. Maybe this satisfied some deep psychological need within her. And what did it all have to do with Zendaris?

Could Prospero be wrong? There had been the slimmest of leads linking Deb to Zendaris—that and the fact that she’d dropped below the radar.

Maybe her behavior signaled some kind of breakdown and not a traitorous move to Zendaris’s camp.

He ran his fingers through the gems. “Why’d you steal this jewelry, Deb?”

She shrugged and the top button of her blouse popped open. “I wanted it.”

“Why are you in contact with Zendaris?” Come on, Deb. Just deny it.

Yawning, she flopped back onto the bed.

He drove his fist into the pile of jewelry and hopped onto the bed, his knees straddling her hips, his hands on either side of her head. “Tell me what’s going on.”

She dropped her dark lashes, still long and lush without the mascara her tears of laughter had washed away. “I’m not telling you anything.”

He blew out an exasperated breath, which stirred the tendrils of her hair at her forehead. “I’m taking you in, Deb.”

Her body stiffened beneath him, and her eyes flew open. “T-to Prospero?”

“You’re their monster. They can deal with you.”

She bit her bottom lip but not before he saw it tremble.

“I’ll tell them everything, Loki. I’ll tell them how you seduced me that night when you were supposed to be guarding the emir’s wife.”

“Ooh, and you promised you wouldn’t kiss and tell.”

“I mean it. I’ll tell them how we made love all night long and while you were lying there, sated and naked and conked out, I went through your things. You compromised your position and the security of the people you were supposed to be protecting.”

And I’d do it all again for one more night with you.

He stared into her eyes, bright with unshed tears. “It’s your word against mine, Deb.”

“I—I’ll ruin your reputation. I’ll destroy you.”

Tough words, but her voice quavered and cracked when she delivered them.

“Maybe I don’t care. Maybe it’s time for Loki to die anyway.”

She squirmed beneath him and started to bend one of her knees for a well-aimed shot between his legs.

He dropped on top of her, pressing his frame along every line of hers as she huffed out a sigh. Her soft breasts smooshed against his chest. Her sweet scent invaded his pores.

He wanted her, even now. He wanted her traitorous lips against his. He wanted to take her lying tongue into his mouth. He wanted her deceiving hands on his body.

She thrashed from side to side. It only inflamed his desire.

He rolled from her body and stood by the side of the bed, hovering over her. “Sit up.”

“That’s what I was trying to do before you pinned me.”

“You were trying to knee me in the groin.”

“A girl has to protect herself.” She struggled to a sitting position. “You’d better think long and hard about turning me in, Loki. I’ll bring you down with me.”

“What I did was child’s play compared to your crimes.” He put more distance between them and her sweet scent that lured him to craziness. “Besides, your reputation will be so sullied, I can claim that you seduced and drugged me. Why not? Two can play hardball, sweetheart.”

“I don’t want to play hardball.”

She fluttered her eyelashes in an amateur attempt at flirtation, which fell flat. The Deb Sinclair he knew didn’t flirt like some simpering college girl. The Deb Sinclair he knew flirted like a woman—bold, challenging, sexy as hell.

“Let me go, Loki. Stealing a few jewels is not endangering national security. Besides, what do you care about that? You’ve always gone to the highest bidder and damn the torpedoes.”

“I think those claims about me have been greatly exaggerated—maybe even by me. Prospero hired me to do a job, and I’m going to do it. This is Jack Coburn we’re talking about. Nobody betrays Jack Coburn, and you’re about to find out why.”

“He doesn’t have to know.” She lifted her shoulder to rub the edge of her jaw against it. “Tell him I got away, that you couldn’t find me at all. I’m a Prospero agent. That won’t be too hard for him to believe.”

“And I’m Loki. It’ll be hard to believe I didn’t run you to ground.”

“Nice analogy.” She closed her eyes and heaved out a sigh. “Please. I’m begging you. Th-this is not what it seems. Somebody’s life depends on this—on my betrayal or at least the appearance of my betrayal.”

Narrowing his eyes, he rubbed his knuckles against the stubble on his chin. She’d shifted tactics. “Your life? Zendaris has threatened to kill the members of Prospero Team Three several times over. He’s never gotten the chance.”

“Not my life. Much worse than that.”

He and Deb had not only had an intense physical connection that night three years ago. When they weren’t exploring each other’s bodies, they were exploring each other’s minds. She’d told him the only family she’d had was the old man who had taken her in as a rebellious teen. Was Zendaris threatening him?

“Your foster father?”

“Robert died last year.” A single tear rolled down her cheek, and his heart lurched.

Was she playing him?

He set his jaw and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Sorry to hear it, but if not Robert, who? You told me you had no family other than Robert.”

She jerked her head up. “You remembered that?”

He remembered every detail of that night—the musky scent of her perfume, the smooth curves of her body, the low throatiness of her laugh and the taste of her. Sometimes at night that taste still lingered on his tongue.

He squared his shoulders. “I do, so don’t try to play some sob story off on me.”

“It’s not a story, Loki. Zendaris is holding someone I love more than life itself.”

A knife twisted in his gut—a husband. Deb had gotten married. And why not? Their connection had been almost three years ago—a one-night stand. Why would that mean anything to her?

He nodded. “You’re married.”

“No.” She shook her head from side to side so vehemently that her hair slipped over one shoulder and then the other. “I’m not talking about a husband. I’m talking about my son. Zendaris kidnapped my son, Bobby. And if I don’t do exactly what he tells me to do, he’ll kill him.”

Chapter Three

Much worse than a husband. Husbands could disappear. Kids stayed with you forever.

That one-night stand had meant less to her than he thought. She must’ve left him and run to the arms of some other lover.

Unless she was lying. What better way to get off the hook than to play the kid card?

His sharp laugh cut through the confusion. “You’re good, Deb. I have to give you that. You’re a pro.”

“Can you unbind my wrists?” She raised her arms behind her. “I didn’t expect you to believe me...at first.”

He strolled to the minibar and snatched a bottle of water from the fridge. He downed half of it in one gulp. He didn’t want her to see that she’d gotten to him for a minute.

“Unbind you so you can go for your gun? Claw my face off? Make a run for it?”

Her mouth curved up on one side. “You’re Loki. I’m not going anywhere. We both know that.”