Beyond the Edge Read online

  Fallon hit the brakes and gasped. What had he done to her? Could he have somehow hypnotized her?

  Her body screamed for relief. Through her pain, she remembered how his proximity eased the horrible nausea. She threw the car into Reverse.

  Suddenly he sat beside her, inside the car. One moment he’d been gone, the next he rode in the passenger seat as if he’d never left. Once again she slammed on the brakes, thankful for the seat belt that kept her from smashing into the steering wheel. Was she crazy? Hallucinating? Drugged?

  “Are you all right?”

  She drew deep breaths and didn’t bother responding to the sympathy in his tone. Just as they had earlier, the violent sensations subsided. He remained silent, allowing her to recover and finally she raised her head, eyeing him with suspicion.

  “I’m better now,” she admitted.

  Before she’d worried how to escape this man. Now she bit into her bottom lip concerned he might leave her. She could never withstand this intense physical agony for more than a few moments.

  “It’s going to get worse.” His words rang with regret.

  She turned her head slowly to look at him, horror clutching her throat tight. “Worse?”

  “The comfort distance between us will shrink.” His tone softened with pity, as if he wished he could change whatever the hell he was doing to her. “Eventually you will not be able to take more than a step or two from my side before suffering.”

  “Suffering from what?”

  “The nausea.”

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it. What’s causing this illness?” He stared straight ahead. She hated silence more than anything. She hated being kept in the dark. Although the adult Fallon now understood why her parents hadn’t told her about her childhood friend’s cancer, facts made coping with difficult situations easier. Once she had facts, she could work to fix the problem. When he remained silent, she slapped her palm on the steering wheel. “Look, mister, it’s late, I’m tired and in no mood for games.”

  “You’re right.” When he agreed with her she hoped he’d start explaining, but his sympathetic attitude disappeared in a flash. “I don’t have time for explanations. Take me to your home. I need to watch television.”

  She’d feared he might be isolating her because he intended to take advantage of her, and he wished to watch television? “Do you plan to hurt me?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means—cooperate. And since I’m forced to work with you, you may call me Kane.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Your understanding isn’t required. Just do as you’re told and we’ll get along fine.”

  The lack of information was driving her anxiety into high gear and she didn’t like his domineering attitude. “Suppose I don’t want to get along?”

  He sighed as if she was being impossible, yet his voice remained gentle and a touch of amusement entered his tone. “If I have time, I will try and be your fantasy man. Will that please you?”

  “No,” she snapped without hesitation.

  “I think I’d enjoy pleasing you.”

  “Getting to know you that well is not part of any of my plans.”

  “Sometimes the best-laid plans have to be thrown away.” He raised his eyebrow and his mouth quirked up, revealing an attractive dimple. “I heard your conversation with your friend. You want to be swept away. You want to escape your responsibilities.” His tone turned personal and his eyes flashed with a spark of heat. “And what man could resist such an intriguing idea?”

  She spoke with care, through gritted teeth, her alarm soaring right along with her interest. Why couldn’t she have met this fascinating man under less bizarre circumstances? She knew nothing about him and yet…she could feel a nameless connection forming between them that sizzled on a sexual level. “Surely, you understand the difference between fantasy and reality.”

  His eyes glinted with intrigue and heat. “Are you so lost that you don’t think fantasies can come true?”

  His tone suggested that she was the crazy one. And this turn of conversation was striking way too close. Because fantasies didn’t come true, not hers. And she should be drawing information out of her abductor, not discussing her fantasy life with him—a man she found way too attractive.

  The combination of his sympathy for her plight, amusement when she gave him attitude and obvious intelligence was lowering her guard. He was getting to her in a way she’d never believed possible. He seemed so intent on his goal and yet she had the impression that although she stood in his way, he didn’t intend to harm her. But she had to remain wary. Since he didn’t seem inclined to believe anything she said, she decided the safest course right then was to remain silent.

  He turned the radio on, and the strains of a Garth Brooks ballad filled the car, hindering further conversation. Not that Fallon considered lack of conversation with this “Kane” a great loss, since he rarely answered her questions, and when he did, he confused her even more.

  But she worried about his suggestion, alarmed that he might appoint himself in charge of making her fantasy come true. The idea both frightened and intrigued her. She shouldn’t be thinking about his looks or how his eyes had gleamed with warmth when the conversation turned personal. If they’d been together on a CIA mission, she might have gone along with letting him become her fantasy man. But she knew nothing about Kane—except that he used technology she’d never seen before. And yet, she couldn’t deny to herself that she felt more alive right at this moment than she had in a very long time.

  Logic told her she was responding to more than his great body and his interesting face. The secrecy and power and all his self-control fascinated her. She’d been around enough agents and on enough missions to recognize that high stakes elevated her hormone levels. But under normal circumstances she’d still find Kane interesting. His slight accent and warm tone were seductive. And those dimples. She’d always been a sucker for dimples.

  However, she’d never, ever, been turned on by violence or force. The choice had to be hers.

  As she drove to her house at the end of the road, she realized he’d left the car to teach her she needed him. The incident on the stairwell could have been coincidence, but the dizzying sensations had now occurred twice, both times when they’d been apart. She shuddered, unwilling to experience them again. Clearly he’d done something to her but that didn’t mean she would surrender to his every demand.

  Driving through the gate, for the first time, she regretted the privacy of her home. Set back from the road, the location gave her a solitude she usually cherished. Tonight the isolation would work against her. No one would notice the lights burning late. No one would glimpse a strange man through the twelve-foot windows.

  Fallon debated whether to trip the security alarm that would summon the police. While the police could stop him from whatever he intended to do with her, suppose the cops separated them and she became ill? No one would believe her. They’d lock her away and she’d suffer horribly. She shuddered. She’d have to deal with this man by herself, figure out how he was making her ill and find a way to stop him.

  After opening the garage door with her automatic opener, she turned off the car, and disarmed the security system. She walked into the black-and-white kitchen with its array of plants, herbs and potted flowers to warm the decor. “Home, sweet home.”

  A home with all the amenities, a screened pool, cathedral ceilings and a phone in every room—including the bathrooms. She’d use her first opportunity to telephone the Agency and notify them of her situation. But would anyone in their right mind believe her?

  She gestured toward the entertainment center in the den. “The television’s in there. I’ll just go freshen up.”

  She rounded the corner and walked into the bathroom. After closing the door, she flipped on the light. Believing she was alone, Fallon turned and discovered Kane had zapped himself into the bathroom.<
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  Startled, she gasped. “Why don’t you give me a little warning before you do that?”

  Kane leaned against the bathroom’s far wall and held her telephone, the disconnected cord dangling in one hand, his cocky grin telling her that he enjoyed playing games. “I’ll collect the rest of these so you won’t be tempted.”

  “Why? Because telling someone about you would be inconvenient?”

  “I’m glad you understand.” His austere features broke into a wide smile that revealed straight teeth. In the bright bathroom, she saw that his eyes weren’t black, but a deep sapphire-blue. Their gazes met for a moment, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he found her attempt to goad him humorous. She couldn’t seem to help appreciating his intelligence and the calm way he dealt with her defiance.

  Even worse, she was enjoying the electric connection between them that felt more like flirtation than anything dangerous. When he strolled out the door, she refused to shrink back against the sink to avoid contact. His hand lightly brushed her hip, causing pure heat to shoot up into her chest and down to her toes. She clenched the counter for support, determined not to reveal how much his casual touch had affected her, then slumped when she was finally alone.

  She had to get a grip. He was not someone she’d chosen to bring home. He’d inserted himself into her night and she had yet to determine how much of a threat he was. She imagined him walking—no, popping—from room to room, disconnecting every phone. She couldn’t summon help and couldn’t leave without becoming desperately ill. She was a prisoner, stuck with a man she was much too attracted to, a man who had claimed he’d like the job of being her fantasy man, a man who had all the right stuff to carry out that role.

  Fallon splashed cold water on her face, reviewing her alternatives. She would not fall prey to Stockholm syndrome, where a victim fell in love with her captor. Realistically, she had only one good option. Upstairs, hidden at the back of her closet lay her best hope. He’d left her no choice. She would have to go for her backup gun.

  After cracking open the bathroom door, she watched Kane open the cabinet that held the big television and remove the remote control from atop the cabinet. “It seems to work just fine.”

  She didn’t answer. She slipped off her shoes, then silently ran upstairs. Half expecting that at any moment he’d pop in front of her and tell her to stay with him where he could watch her, she made the most of his distraction with the television.

  She padded across the thick carpet. Sweat beaded on her brow. Her heart skipped erratically. She entered her closet and flung aside scarves, gloves and purses, seeking cold metal until she clutched the 9 mm automatic.

  With practiced ease, she flipped off the safety, pulled the slide back to chamber the first of nine rounds. She remembered the gun instructor’s words like he’d said them yesterday. “Don’t go for a weapon unless you intend to shoot. Don’t shoot unless you aim to kill.”

  She’d never fired a gun at anyone, never mind aimed to kill—but she’d never been kidnapped, either. Taking a deep breath, Fallon crept silently down the steps. Kane hunched forward on the leather sofa, staring at the television with a frown of concentration.

  She stepped closer, aiming at his chest. “I don’t know what you did to me, but I want you to undo it.”

  Kane raised a brow, his expression one of disappointment rather than fear. “You’re in this until the end.”

  The end? That sounded like a death threat.

  “What do you want with me?” she asked, determined to pry information from him.

  Ignoring the weapon, he broke into a grin so sexy, it stole her breath. His eyes locked on hers with an intimate look of pure awareness. “I want nothing except what you’re willing to give.”

  “I’m not giving you one damn thing.”

  The heat in his tone could have melted sugar. “Before we’re done, you’ll want to put me in charge.”

  His words seared her like a bolt of lightning and she fought to ignore the electric charge sizzling up and down her veins.

  Despite her gun, she didn’t feel in control and her voice hitched. “I’ll put you in charge of what?”

  “In charge of you.” He chuckled, his glance enticing and knowing.

  As he stood and advanced toward her, his rhythm steady and decisive, his eyes blazed with a powerful determination and emphatic certainty that she would give him whatever he asked of her.

  She would never agree. Never. Even if her breasts tingled with excitement at the thought, even if she felt a sudden swooping pull in her belly at the idea of allowing him to do with her as she wished. As if sensing the conflict between her thoughts and her physical needs, he let his eyes drop to her breasts where her traitorous nipples had betrayed her by hardening into tight buds. He smiled knowingly and with pure pleasure, telling her that he most definitely liked what he was seeing.

  “You do want me,” his tone coaxed. “The idea of giving yourself over to me excites you, doesn’t it?”

  “You are so wrong,” she denied while recalling that he’d overheard much more of her conversation with Jaycee. Too bad Jaycee was right and she really did need a good fantasy to sweep her away. She hadn’t taken a vacation in years. Hadn’t had a fling in longer than she cared to remember. And Kane was perfect in so many ways, polite, yet in charge, intelligent and charming. She would love to ditch her responsibilities and just play. In fact, the idea was so appealing that if she knew for certain Kane wouldn’t hurt her, she’d toss the gun aside and let him have her.

  “Deny me all you like.” His gaze swept over her flushed face and lingered on her lips, lips that suddenly burned for a kiss. “Your body tells a different story.” He advanced another step, his eyes telling her oh-so clearly that he wanted her. “Imagine giving over complete control to me. You will have no decisions to make, no choices. Just the freedom to enjoy whatever I decide.”

  “No.” The protest came out automatically, but his words shot heat straight to her core. He was a stranger. He’d kidnapped her.

  “Yes,” he insisted.

  In another step, he’d be close enough to disarm her.

  And Fallon pulled the trigger.

  3

  IN THE SMALL ROOM the shot sounded as loud as a cannon and the scent of powder burned her nostrils. If he hadn’t egged her on, she might not have found the courage to pull the trigger. His words had been too enticing, too tempting and for a moment she’d feared yielding to him more than she feared taking a life. He’d gotten to her with his sexy smile, hot eyes and compelling promise of taking away all her responsibilities by fulfilling her fantasy. Only she’d never fantasized about giving up control of herself. That was his interpretation and she wasn’t buying it for a second. So what if her body had turned on at his words? Or that the heat in his gaze was real? She liked reading about crossing the country in a covered wagon but that didn’t mean she wanted to do it. She enjoyed watching ski jumping at the Olympics but that didn’t mean she wanted to try it. So maybe his words made her insides go all mushy, but she was way too strong-willed to turn over her will to him—no matter how badly she wanted a vacation.

  So she’d pulled the trigger and kept her eyes wide open, expecting to have to steal herself for the sight of blood and mangled flesh. But Kane was gone and she couldn’t prevent a shiver of relief that he’d pulled his dematerialization trick again.

  He couldn’t have gone too far, or she’d be sick. Fallon extended the gun in both hands and spun, searching for her target. She held her breath and listened, but only the whisper of a breeze ruffling the miniblinds and the clock ticking above the convection oven interrupted the haunting silence.

  Every female instinct told her to throw down the gun and agree to an exciting fling. Yet her mind told her he was dangerous. She couldn’t leave so she had no choice but to stay and fight. Too bad she was spending so much effort fighting her own desires.

  How had a connection arced between them so quickly? Even as she searched for him she already knew he wou
ldn’t be angry. Another man would be furious that she’d tried to shoot him, but not Kane. He seemed to understand her fears—of him, of herself, of what might happen between them if she let it.

  As a trained agent, she could ignore her attraction. And his. No matter how enticing she found his heat, she couldn’t succumb to an absolute stranger.

  She longingly eyed the phones he’d collected and piled on the glass dining table. Dare she take a moment to plug one in and call the Agency for help? But even if a fellow CIA agent arrived, he would never believe the truth. She imagined what kind of reaction she’d receive after she described a man who moved faster than the eye could see, a man who made her desperately ill when she tried to escape from him. A man who thought she would give him everything he asked for. A man who thought she would put him in charge of her.

  Kane might not have specified his exact intention, but the heat in his gaze had clued her into the notion that he aimed to dominate her physically, sexually, mentally—and he actually had the conceit to expect her to agree.

  At the thought, her hands shook. Because his idea so appealed. What woman wouldn’t want to put herself in the hands of a man like Kane and accept all the pleasure he could give? And for her the allure was all the more intriguing because she was so tired of being the one in charge. Her family depended on her. Her corporations and charities depended on her. For once it would be terrific to give up her responsibilities and just go with the flow. Her mind might be denouncing the idea of ever yielding to him, but her body was reacting favorably. Despite the connection that had grown between them, no way was she putting her hormones in charge.

  Turning, searching for him, she sensed his nearness by the strange link they shared. He was close, inside the house. Recalling his special abilities and his speed of movement increased the beat of her heart until blood hammered in her ears. She might have the gun, but he stalked her like prey.