Beyond the Edge Read online

  His arms suddenly enfolded her and slammed her back against his hard chest.

  “No!”

  “Yes.” He whispered the word into her ear like a dangerous caress.

  He trapped her between his arms and his chest and, reaching forward, seized her gun with his powerful hands. She’d tried to kill him and logic told her that he would turn the weapon on her. Logic said she was going to die, and she distantly wished she’d spent a little more time on her own happiness. She should have gone skiing with Jaycee. She should have taken a trip to Hawaii. She should have…

  Fallon clenched her hands tight. God! She wanted to live, but she would not beg. Closing her eyes, she held her breath and waited for the blast of a shot. And death.

  And yet feminine instinct told her this man meant her no harm. Female instinct told her he admired her courage. And deep down she knew he wanted her too much to kill her.

  “If you really feel safer with this gun in your hands,” his expression remained gentle, “you may have it back.”

  After showing her that she couldn’t shoot him and that he could disarm her at will, she understood that handing her back the gun was a mere gesture. The gun was useless against him. With her back pressed against his chest, his breath fanning her ear, it took her a moment to focus on the important part of his statement.

  “Why the hell do you care if I feel safe?” She tilted back her head and caught his charged gaze, one electric enough to light up her every nerve.

  He frowned at her, but even his frown was sexy and superior. “Your fear is complicating my mission.”

  “Which is what exactly?”

  KANE RELEASED HER, letting her keep the gun. “I’m not yet at liberty to reveal that data. However, if you’d allow me to watch television for ten uninterrupted minutes, I could…” He couldn’t say more. His orders were to reveal his mission to no one.

  And he couldn’t blame her for the suspicion in her eyes. But she wasn’t supposed to have been in her office and now he was stuck with her—although he didn’t know if stuck was the right way to describe having to remain close to a beautiful, intelligent woman. After overhearing her conversation, he’d felt so attuned to her. And then he’d gone and frightened her to the point that she’d tried to kill him.

  From the moment he’d arrived in her office, she’d seemed wary, but in spite of the incomprehensible things happening to her, she’d remained calm and together. However, she hadn’t been totally able to hide her attraction to him. Oh, she’d fooled him, procuring her backup weapon, but he couldn’t miss the relief in her sagging shoulders after she’d fired the shot and missed.

  So much like him, duty was calling her to do one thing, when desire demanded another. That this wealthy businesswoman would try to shoot him had taken him by complete surprise. His second mistake, no doubt due to how she kept distracting him. Her short dark hair framed her attractive face in pixielike curls that disguised her cunning. Her slenderness gave an appearance of fragility that had deceived and attracted him. And the feminine curve of her hips in the tight skirt diverted him from remembering Fallon Hanover ran a multimillion dollar conglomerate. And she’d defended herself as deftly as she ran the Institute.

  Although she’d handled the gun proficiently, from the expression of horror when she’d pulled the trigger, he’d bet she’d never before fired with the intent to kill. If he wasn’t careful, her combination of strength, determination and foolhardiness could botch his mission, and if he didn’t assuage her suspicions, there was no telling what other crazy scheme she’d come up with. However, he wasn’t permitted to tell her anything—at least not without permission.

  “You could have killed me,” he said, hoping that if he stayed firm, she’d pull back and he’d find her less seductive. Kane liked strong women, women who knew what they wanted—but this wasn’t the time or the place for a dalliance. And he didn’t enter relationships lightly, not after his past disaster. So as appealing as he found Fallon, his talk about becoming her fantasy man had been a joke—one that had taken of a life on its own in his imagination.

  “Shooting you would have been self-defense.”

  She didn’t back down an inch and he had to stop himself from applauding. Any way he looked at her, Fallon Hanover was one hell of a woman. And he’d most definitely like to know her better.

  Perhaps coming to her home had compounded his mistake. He’d allowed her the advantage of the home ground, giving her options he couldn’t anticipate. But if he’d taken her to a public hotel, there was too much risk of a stranger noticing something odd. His enemies could read newspaper headlines for leads, notice that Fallon Hanover had disappeared, and put the facts together.

  Her lakeside home had seemed the best option. A pile of unfolded laundry on the couch indicated she didn’t expect company. She lived here alone, without servants.

  When he’d tried to give her space to adjust to her situation, she’d taken the offensive and her action was forcing him to reassess her. He couldn’t drag her around and expect blind cooperation. A woman like her needed answers.

  Perhaps her unwillingness to be a victim had altered his opinion of her. Or perhaps holding her in his arms, breathing in the vanilla scent of her hair, watching her rapid pulse beat at the hollow of her neck, feeling her firm bottom wriggling against his thighs had made him realize that his teasing to become her fantasy man had been more than a pleasant diversion to keep her distracted.

  Yet in his line of work, civilians were a hindrance. His duty was too important to let anyone distract him. Billions of lives were at stake.

  Yet while Fallon would slow him and interfere with his mission, he admitted to himself that he would savor every delicious moment. Despite his attraction to her, if he could have left her behind and gone on with his job alone, he would have. He was caught like a fly in a web—and if he wasn’t careful, she’d have him for supper.

  From the moment he’d accepted the assignment, the mission had been pure disaster. His briefing had been too sketchy, the timing off, the planning poor. Already his chance of success had been cut by a factor of four, and he’d calculated those odds without figuring in Fallon and his attraction to her. Even worse, he’d violated his sacred vows, mistakenly allowing her to see things she’d had no right to. He’d have to backtrack and feed her lies, convincing lies.

  When Kane released her, she spun to face him, her green eyes spitting poisoned daggers that made him want to stroke her like a frightened kitten. She straightened her skirt and, white-faced, glared at him.

  He wished he could kiss the distrust off her face, cup the delicate chin, explore her smooth complexion with the pad of his thumb. Her look said she needed explanations, something he didn’t have time for. Still, he’d have to justify certain actions or she might attack him again. Not that she could hurt him, but he couldn’t jeopardize his work. The greatest danger lay in drawing unwanted attention to himself or in allowing himself to become too fascinated by her.

  “Come.” He held out his hand to her. “Let’s sit in front of the television for a few minutes.”

  Clutching the gun in one hand, she warily placed her other in his. “Fine.”

  Clearly, she didn’t trust him, but at least she wasn’t running screaming from the room, and her hand felt damn good in his. They entered the den together and he turned up the television’s volume. Then he removed his watch, which concealed a special transmitter and receiver. The moment he began to transmit, data flashed on his screen.

  Fallon leaned over, her scent wafting to his nostrils and teasing him. “What language is that?”

  “It’s code.” Data streamed in about Fallon. “You’re CIA?”

  He had to give her credit. She didn’t change expression. “I run the Hanover Institute.”

  She might be willing to sink millions into charity to search for a cure for cancer, but she also was no pushover. And at his mention of his knowledge about her, she’d instantly become defensive.

  “And you do
n’t simply run the Hanover Institute, you also control a vast personal wealth, don’t you?”

  As he mentioned her wealth, her eyes darkened, as if mentioning her assets caused her to draw into herself.

  “Is that what you want, money?” Her tone sounded resigned, cool and, perhaps, disappointed.

  “Your money might prove useful to me, but that’s not what I really want.” He let his gaze rake over her, and she thought she might tell him to go to hell, but she flicked her tongue over her bottom lip as if considering the full implications of his statement.

  While he’d spoken with her, through his transmitter he’d asked his superiors for permission to tell her the truth. As a government agent, surely she could be trusted with secrets. But much to his disappointment, the reply came back: a resounding No. He was not allowed to reveal the truth and he was beginning to wonder if he could lie well enough to fool Fallon Hanover, especially after she’d seen the technology he carried.

  However, he would try. As his stomach rumbled, reminding him that he needed sustenance, he rose to his feet and brought her to the kitchen, his mind racing.

  “So you use the television to transmit and receive messages?” she guessed.

  “Sit down. We need to talk.”

  She cast him a puzzled look and seated herself at the table while he explored the cupboards, pulling out crackers, olives and a jar of caviar. They would both need their strength for what lay ahead. He grabbed a bottle of Chablis, provolone cheese and seedless red grapes from the refrigerator, then returned for two wineglasses and set them on the table.

  After filling her glass, he raised his in a toast. “To life.”

  “I won’t be toyed with. If you intend to kill me, just get it over with,” she snapped.

  “Look, I owe you an apology.”

  “I’d say you owe me much more than an apology.” Her breasts heaved beneath the swell of her silk shirt and when she caught his glance, she frowned—but her nipples hardened. Lovely. Ms. Fallon Hanover was definitely more interested than she pretended and he’d have to double his efforts not to become entwined in her allure.

  But he wasn’t adverse to pleasing her—as long as she didn’t slow him down, and as long as she didn’t mind that his emotions would never be involved. The idea of her totally submitting her will to him excited him. But first he had to assuage her suspicions.

  He softened his voice and pointedly raked his gaze over her. “What kind of apology did you have in mind?”

  Just as he’d planned, his seductive teasing sent her temper soaring. Her shoulders stiffened. At the same time, she lowered her lids but not before he’d glimpsed her response. An angry opponent was not a smart opponent. Right now he needed her off balance.

  Would she lash out? Try to slap his face? He should have known she’d have much better control. She took his attempt to manipulate her in stride, and he could only admire her tenacity.

  “You owe me an explanation of your criminal activities.”

  “I am not—”

  “A crook?”

  As she repeated Nixon’s famous denial, a spark of amusement lit her eyes. A twitch pulled at his lips, and he almost smiled. Fallon was having quite an effect on his sense of humor as well as an impact on other parts of him. She’d put him on notice that she wasn’t a woman to trifle with. He couldn’t help wondering if she made love with the same vigor with which she defended herself.

  He offered her a glass of wine. “Truce?”

  Fallon frowned at it suspiciously and refused his offer. Instead she took the one he’d just sipped from. “Have you drugged me?”

  He grinned inside where Fallon couldn’t see it. The risks were too great to tell her the truth, and she’d just given him the lead he’d been searching for to set up a convincing lie. “Drugging you wasn’t intentional. You were not supposed to be in that office.”

  Her fingers twisted around the glass stem, sliding up and down. His mouth went cottony dry, thinking how those hands would feel skimming over his neck, his chest, his stomach and lower. Damn it! Not now.

  Dragging his thoughts back to the subject at hand, he concentrated on her inquisitive words. “The drug causes hallucinations?”

  “Do you recall the scent of almonds?” When she nodded, he continued. “You inhaled the drug. Its side effects are similar but not identical to LSD. Time is distorted and certain memories are forgotten.”

  Her eyes, green as the potted palm plants swaying in the breezeway, darted to meet his. “That’s why I can’t remember walking from the stairwell to the parking garage?”

  “Exactly.”

  “And the drug’s side effect makes me sick?”

  “Yes.”

  Her full lips thinned into a cynical smile. “But why am I sick only when I leave you?”

  “I can’t tell you that.” Kane spread caviar onto a cracker, popped it onto his tongue and washed the salty-crispness away with a sip of wine.

  “Why not?”

  Because he couldn’t think up a good answer. “It’s classified.”

  “Really?” She raised a delicate eyebrow. “What government do you work for?”

  “I can’t tell you that either.”

  “Great. I feel much better now. You won’t let me call the police. You won’t tell me who you work for.” She was ticking off her points on each finger. “You won’t tell me why I’m sick. Do you really expect me to believe you?”

  Kane leaned forward and held her gaze, assessing her anger. At the radiant flush on her face, the inquisitive gleam in her eye, and the haughty tilt of her chin, admiration welled up and his heart squeezed like a vise. For an instant he regretted what he must do to her, then sternly reminded himself of the lives at stake. He shouldn’t care whether he lied to her or not.

  Kane didn’t let his sympathy for her break through the hardness in his voice. “How else can you explain the nausea?”

  She shot him a frustrated look, clearly unable to account for the strange illness. “How long will the drug’s effects last?”

  “The hallucinations should be gone soon.”

  “But?” she prodded.

  “Occasional flashbacks will occur, so you should be prepared for memory lapses. The nausea will continue for some time, I’m afraid.”

  “How long?”

  Kane contained a sigh. He could hardly tell her it would last until he finished his mission. “Days. Maybe weeks. I’m not sure.”

  Her mouth set in annoyance. “You mean I could be stuck with you for an entire month?”

  “Yes.” He didn’t dare remind her that he could make the time interesting for both of them. Or that the maximum nausea-free distance between them would keep shrinking.

  She drummed her nails on the table. “Instead of scaring me to death, why didn’t you explain earlier?”

  “I tried. You didn’t want to listen. So I waited for most of the hallucinogenic effect to wear off.”

  She still looked skeptical. “Why did you break into my office, Kane?”

  He plucked a handful of grapes, and savored the crunchy pulp and the sweet juice running down his throat, thinking the worst was over. He shouldn’t have let her see the specialized technology at work, but it didn’t matter, not if she thought she’d been hallucinating. If he made another error, she’d think she was having a flashback.

  Pleased that he’d covered all the contingencies, he leaned back in his chair. “Someone stole technology from…my people. We want it back.”

  Seemingly oblivious to what the sight did to him she folded her hands across her chest, tightening the blue silk against the soft curve of her breasts. “Let me get this straight.” Skepticism entered her tone. “You didn’t come into my office to steal but to recover stolen property?”

  “We thought the thief might have tried to sell our technology and where better than to the Hanover Institute? You have the money, the interest and the facilities to check out this type of technology. You might have unknowingly purchased the stolen work.�
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  “Why break in? Why not just ask us?”

  “My bosses don’t want to draw attention to the problem. If you hadn’t been there, I would have checked your files, and you’d have never known I was there.”

  She rubbed her chin in thought. “Don’t you have patents that protect your interests?”

  Damn! Must the woman keep poking holes in his story? Fallon Hanover was sharp, he’d give her that. But he was good at this type of evasion. The best. “The government prefers to keep its work private. Patents are a matter of public record and we follow national security guidelines.”

  “Then you do work for us?”

  “I didn’t say that.” He had to give her credit for neatly trapping him.

  “I apologize if my skepticism irritates you. You’re probably used to people believing your lies after you drug them and take them hostage.”

  His hand with the wineglass paused on the way to his lips. “You still don’t believe me?”

  “So what exactly was stolen?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Come on! You broke into my office and you don’t even know what you’re looking for?”

  Kane raised his glass to his mouth and swallowed to cover his grin. She really was an interesting woman when she got past her fear of him. “Nigel James had access to many black projects, top-secret. We aren’t certain which ones he copied.”

  “What makes you think this Nigel will attempt to sell your products to a private individual instead of another government?” she asked, her tone mild, her eyes bright with curiosity. “Assuming he stole them, that is.”

  “We don’t think he has the right contacts. We suspect he stole formulas that have more commercial applications. For example, the suit I’m wearing is one of our latest projects.”

  Her forehead furrowed. “I remember a helmet on that suit.”

  She seemed uncertain whether the memory was real. Good. “We fabricated intelligent materials.”