Phipps rose and started to pace. “Do you think it was him?”
“It’s entirely possible, but I have my doubts.”
“Enlighten me.”
“He would’ve made a move by now if it’d been him.”
Phipps let out a sigh. “We need to move first, before he does. Bring him out in the open, Radcliffe. You know what you need to do. It’s time.”
“Yes, Senator. I’ll handle it.” Steve stood and immediately headed for the door. He didn’t have time to waste. He had another life to destroy.
3
TAKING THE HARD VINYL chair Jared indicated, Peyton sat at the round table in the far corner of the motel room and quickly surveyed her surroundings, surreptitiously searching for a means of escape. Her only hope was the bathroom, but from the brief glimpse she’d had when Jared flipped on the lights, she couldn’t be sure if it even had a window. There had to be, she thought. Considering Jared had to have made getting out of places in a hurry his number one priority, she couldn’t imagine him holing up without an alternate means of escape.
At least the place was clean, if a strong disinfectant smell was any indication. Although dull from years of wear and tear, the multicolored shag carpet was well maintained. Thankfully, she hadn’t noticed a single critter scurrying from the light, either. Not that she cared one way or another, because she had no intention of staying.
The fact that he’d kidnapped her by disposable lighter, rather than gunpoint, reassured her to some small degree that regardless of all the tough talk, he didn’t plan to hurt her. Still, a part of her wasn’t quite so confident. In the hard man currently holding her captive, she barely recognized the Jared she’d known. Gone was the smooth, polished federal agent with a promising career ahead of him. A fugitive she barely recognized remained, one accused of a brutal double murder.
Only memories existed now. Memories better left alone if she planned to maintain emotional distance.
She watched him as he secured the door, then peered through a crack in the draperies to the parking lot they’d left only moments ago.
“So what do you plan on doing with me now that you’ve got me here?” She touched the tabletop with the tips of her fingers. When they didn’t stick to the surface, she crossed her arms and leaned against the imitation wood grain. “If it’s ransom money you’re looking for, forget it. I’m practically broke.”
He made a noise that could have been a grunt of disagreement. As if the security bar and dead bolt weren’t enough, he slid one of the vinyl chairs beneath the knob and wedged it against the door.
“Jared? Are you going to tell me what’s going on? I’d like to be home before midnight, if you don’t mind.”
He turned to face her. In the soft buttery glow of the lamplight, she finally saw him clearly. Unable to help herself, she stared in utter fascination. His dark mink-colored hair, always kept short, now brushed his collar, the perfect accompaniment to the faded jeans and worn denim shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders. There was that slight graying at his temples that conflicted with the rebel look, adding a distinguished quality that most men wouldn’t see until their mid-forties or later. He was about twenty pounds thinner than she remembered, but from the way the jeans and shirt clung to his body, she suspected he was no less muscular. Maybe even more so.
Much to her surprise, she realized she longed to see the hint of mischief that had once filled his green eyes, along with the lopsided grin she could never resist. If she could catch just a trace of the old Jared, then maybe the past three years would all seem like a bad dream.
She gave herself a hard mental shake. The past could not be changed. Hadn’t she learned that lesson time and again throughout her life? Reality stood before her, changed and unfamiliar. She might not like what he’d become, but the hardness she sensed had always lurked beneath the surface was now more apparent than ever before. He’d been an FBI agent, one of the best. An agent didn’t regularly handle Black Ops or deep-cover assignments by not residing at the top of the pyramid. So what if his eyes looked her up and down now with glacial hardness? It made no difference to her whatsoever, even if it did make him even more handsome than she remembered. They were no longer simpatico. The part of her that had clung to the dream of happily-ever-after had died the day he turned his back on everything good and right.
Too bad none of her arguments could change one little fact of life—Jared Romine would always be able to turn her head.
As if he hadn’t heard her questions or demands, he left his post by the door and crossed the room toward her.
“Jared. I want to go home,” she repeated when he pulled his wallet from his hip pocket and tossed it on the nightstand along with her keys.
He looked at her over his shoulder. “Sweetheart, you can’t go home. It’s too dangerous.”
The expression in his gaze rattled her. “So you’ve already said.” She struggled to come to terms with the fear banked within the depths of his eyes. Fear for her? Or for himself when they caught him?
She pulled in a shaky breath and let it out slowly. The sooner she found out what he wanted, the sooner she could return to her life. To her safe existence, where beige was an exciting color.
“What’s going on, Jared? If it’s help you want—”
“Help?” Hardness replaced the anxiety in his eyes and he gave an abrupt bark of humorless laughter. “Oh, you’d help me all right. Straight into the gas chamber.”
She shook her head. “You’re not being fair.”
He planted his hands on his hips and glared down at her. “Fair? You want fair?” His angry voice dripped with sarcasm. “How fair were you when you turned me over without even waiting to hear my side of the story?”
No, the night he’d come to her, she hadn’t given him a chance to explain. If she had, they would’ve used whatever he’d told her against him. Her arms slid from the table. She balled her hands into tight fists, then stood and returned his glare with one of her own.
“They didn’t give me a choice.” The bitter taste of betrayal hadn’t waned one iota in three years. “What did you want me to do, Jared? Risk being disbarred? Lose everything? After what they put me through, I think I paid a high enough price.”
He let out a rough sigh and reached for her. “Look, I’m sorry.”
Whether he was apologizing for being a jerk or for what her involvement with him had nearly cost her, she didn’t know, and quite frankly, she was too ticked off at being kidnapped to really give a damn. She sidestepped him and made it to the nightstand to snag her keys. “It doesn’t matter. I’m leaving. Don’t waste your breath trying to change my mind.”
“It’s too dangerous for you now.”
She faced him, anger and frustration still brewing inside her. “The way I see it, the only danger I’m in at the moment is a result of having been kidnapped by a fugitive. It’s safer for both of us if I leave and pretend tonight never happened.”
He narrowed the space between them. “It’s not going to be that easy this time, Peyton.”
The unexpected and sudden gentleness of his tone stroked her like a physical caress. Sweet, caring and way out of line. Damn Jared, and damn the memories swamping her. “It wasn’t the last time, either.”
She spun to leave, but before she took a single step toward freedom, he had her by the arm and used care to turn her around to face him. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close.
The feel of the long length of his body pressed against her was instant electricity. The urge to wreathe her arms around his neck and pull him down for a long, hot kiss overwhelmed her.
Now