Breath Of Malice Part 17

Slowly, Paige drew back. "This isn't over with Thames. We need to make sure you're safe. We need you to be somewhere he can't get to you. Sam has a place in mind. He wants to take you there. You'll be with people Sam trusts."

"You said he's after you. What about you?" Ivy's voice broke.

Paige's eyes filled with tears all over again at the concern in Ivy's voice. She could make this right with her sister. Please, G.o.d, give her the time to do that. "I'll be staying here. I have to see this through with Thames."

Her voice small, Ivy asked, "But what if he comes after you?"

"I'm a trained agent. I know how to take care of myself, and I won't be alone. I'll have Sam and the other agents from our office. I'll be fine. Will you go to the safe house, Ivy? Please."

Ivy's chin trembled, then firmed. "I'll go. Just get him, Paige."

Paige's eyes clouded as she took Ivy into her arms again. "I will. I promise. After it's over, if you want me to, I'd like to get to know your friend Chad."

Ivy drew back a bit and gave Paige a small smile. "Does that mean I'm not grounded?"

"Only until you're forty." Paige returned Ivy's smile, then smoothed hair from Ivy's tearstained cheeks. "Sam is waiting. Let's gather your things."

Paige did not accompany Sam and Ivy to the safe house. She couldn't take the chance that she might lead Thames to Ivy. Ivy was Paige's weakness. What better way to bring Paige to heel than through Ivy? No, Paige would not give Thames a weapon to use against her.

Sam had called Harry and Dom. Sam had asked Harry to wait with Paige at his house while he and Dom escorted Ivy to the safe house. Dom and a female agent from the central office would remain with Ivy.

"You're going to wear a hole in that floor with your pacing," Harry said mildly.

Paige realized she hadn't been able to stand or sit still since Sam left. He'd told her he wouldn't be back for several hours. Paige was beyond exhausted from the mental and physical strain.

She faced Harry. He was seated on the end of Sam's couch, a deck of cards spread out before him on the coffee table in a game of solitaire. "I appreciate you being here with me."

One corner of Harry's mouth lifted in a smile. "We serve and protect." He looked up from the cards, and his expression became serious. "And you're one of ours. I'm not going anywhere until I get the okay from Sam."

One of theirs. She hadn't ever felt that sense of belonging, not with her squads in New York or Denver. That had been her fault. She'd been aloof, kept herself apart from the other squad members, believing she was above them with her ambitions and strategies.

The time wore on. Harry fried eggs and ham in Sam's kitchen and made open-faced sandwiches. He nudged Paige into taking a bite, but the food sat like rocks in her stomach, and she resumed pacing.

It was the middle of the night when Harry's cell phone rang. He looked to Paige as he took the call. "Sam?"

Paige moved close to Harry but couldn't hear Sam's side of the conversation.

"We'll be waiting," Harry said. Before Paige could ask, Harry added, "Sam is on his way in. He's pulling up to the house."

A few moments later, Sam entered the house. Paige went to him. "How's Ivy?"

"She's fine," he said gently. "Dom and Maggie Cole from the central office will protect Ivy with their lives."

Paige prayed it wouldn't come to that.

As Harry was leaving, Sam left her to have a word with Harry at the door. By this time, it was after three o'clock in the morning.

Sam returned to Paige. "We should try to get some sleep."

But he brought his arms around her and drew her close. Paige went into his arms, taking the comfort he offered.

Being here with Sam was temporary. She was never more aware of that than in this moment. She blinked back the tears that flooded her eyes and melded her body with his.

"What's this?" Sam asked, bending over her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and ground her face against his shoulder. "Thank you. Thank you for making sure Ivy is safe."

Sam gathered her more tightly in his arms. "I'm going to make sure you're safe, too. No more running."

No, there'd be no more running. She knew what she had to do. From the moment she'd learned of the motion to overturn Thames's conviction, she'd known-she'd known-that it was over for her. The dream of having a life here in Kirk, of having a life with Sam, was just a dream. There would be no life with Sam, no future with him. Now a woman was dead. Thames had taunted Paige with Ivy. Thames knew exactly where Paige was, and he would be coming for her next.

"You're wound tight," Sam said. "I'll draw you a bath, then we'll sleep."

While Paige soaked in the tub in Sam's master bathroom, he went to the bathroom down the hall to take a shower. The only bubble bath Sam had on offer was the children's variety that Jonah used. Clearly, Sam wasn't in the habit of drawing baths for women. Paige's heart squeezed tight. Her life was a mess, and she was so in love with him.

He knocked once on the door, then strode in. A towel was wrapped around his hips, leaving his upper body and muscled legs bare. He was using another towel to dry his thick, dark hair.

He stopped midswipe and a.s.sessed her. "Okay?"

She nodded.

He crouched by the tub and reached out to brush his finger across her cheek. "When you're ready, we'll hit the sheets."

"I'm ready."

She put her hand in his, and he gently drew her from the water. His eyes burned on her, but he doused the flame. He tossed the towel he was using on his hair on the white counter, then took another from the cupboard below the sink and wrapped her in it.

She didn't want the towel wrapped around her. She wanted him. Ivy was safe. Paige didn't know what the next moment would bring with Thames. She wanted this time with Sam for however long she could have it.

She rose on tiptoe and looped her arms around his neck. Sam kissed her gently, his lips brus.h.i.+ng softly against hers.

He raised his head to look at her. Gently, he lowered her arms from around him. He pressed a kiss to her palms. "Baby, as much as I want you, you look wiped."

He was putting what he thought she needed before his own wants, his own needs, and she fell more in love with him. "I want this, Sam. I want you."

To make sure he got the point, she ran her tongue over his lips. Sam's eyes went dark with desire. He raised a hand to cradle one side of her face, then brought her lips to his. He kissed her gently, then lifted her. Holding her against his chest, he carried her to his bed. He set her down softly on the mattress, then stretched out beside her.

The blinds were open, and moonlight streamed across the bed, illuminating the tan bedsheets. The moon cast a small glow on their bodies.

Sam rose onto an elbow. He spread the towel, baring her. He kissed her neck, softly pressing his lips to the pulse in her throat. The kiss was so tender. Her heart stuttered.

Sam lowered his mouth to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He licked her nipples, then blew softly on them. He followed that up with a soft sc.r.a.pe of his teeth. Her nipples hardened to tight peaks. Paige sucked in a breath.

"You are so beautiful," Sam said.

He tongued and sucked one breast, then the other, alternating between them. He moved his mouth on one nipple and ran his thumb across the other. Paige's breath caught.

She could feel him against her, but it wasn't close enough. She had to touch him. Needed to touch him with a desperation that bordered on panic. She reached out and ran her hands over his taut flesh, over all those hard, defined muscles, feeling the heat and warmth of him and the blood pulsing through him.

She yanked off the towel and bared his erection. He was ready for her, but she curled her fingers around him. Hard and huge. His arousal kicked in her grasp. She stroked him.

He gritted his teeth. "Paige."

Sam lowered his mouth to hers in a kiss that was protective, possessive. Hot and scorching, his tongue delved into her mouth and took on the same rhythm as her strokes. She kissed him harder, wanting to remember the feel of him against her always.

He tore away. His gaze was white-hot. His breathing was ragged, but he touched her face with a tenderness that halted her own breath. "It's okay."

It wasn't, and she didn't know if it ever would be. All she had for sure was now. She reached down and grasped his erection again. With her other hand, she pulled him up all the way to his knees, then went to her own and bent before him. She took him into her mouth. She used her tongue and teeth in long, slow laps, then picked up the pace. Sam shook. His muscles tightened and bunched. She swirled her tongue on him, then took him as deep as she could.

"Baby, enough."

Sam pulled her away abruptly. He lifted her off himself and onto her back on the bed. His eyes blazed and his grip on her shoulders was tight.

He moved above her to her entrance. He didn't push inside her. He was breathing hard, and she could see he was trying to cool himself down. Paige didn't want him to cool down. She wanted him mindless. She arched up, taking him into her body herself.

"Easy, sweetheart. Easy."

Sam withdrew, but Paige lifted herself and took him deep again. This time, she could feel there was no going back for Sam. His control was at an end. He gripped her bottom with both hands and thrust harder, deeper. He pushed inside her, a powerful stroke that sent her up the mattress to the headboard.

Paige's pa.s.sion ratcheted up, and she was with him, matching him stroke for stroke, lifting and lowering her body in time with his. This moment . . . this moment . . . this moment . . . The words played over and over in her mind.

"Paige."

Sam said her name in a guttural voice, then drove into her. Paige dug her nails into his shoulders. He drove into her again, sending her over the edge. Her mind finally turned off. Her body took over as her o.r.g.a.s.m slammed through her like a force of nature. Sam's body tensed, then shuddered with his own release.

Sam's body covered her own, and she could feel his heart pounding. Her heart was drumming just as hard. He levered himself up, taking his weight from her. He turned his head, found her mouth, and kissed her, brus.h.i.+ng his lips against hers. He was hot and damp from perspiration. Paige wrapped her arms around him, holding him to her.

When Sam would have withdrawn from her, she clung to him harder.

He brushed her hair off her brow. "It's okay. I'm right here, sweetheart."

Exhaustion was overtaking her. She closed her eyes, then opened them on Sam's. She closed them again, opened them. He kissed her eyelids and kept his lips pressed to her brow. She didn't open her eyes again.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

Paige could hear low voices coming from the television mounted on the wall opposite Sam's bed. She opened her eyes. It hadn't been on when they made love. He must have turned on the TV at some point during the night because he knew it helped her sleep. Sam was on his side beside her with one heavy arm draped across her. She was tucked against Sam's chest, her face near his heart, but still, she pressed tighter to him.

Sunlight filtered in through the slats of the blinds on Sam's bedroom windows. It was a new day, and Thames was still out there. Their case against Thames in the murder of Janet Lambert was still nonexistent. They had nothing to tie him to the senator's sister, nothing except Paige herself. It was because of her that an innocent woman had been killed.

And this was her life. On the run. Living in limbo. Existing but not living. She'd allowed herself to hope that she could have a life with Sam.

But she would never be free, and as long as she remained in Sam's life, Sam would be forever in this nightmare with her. She loved him. G.o.d, she loved him, and she wouldn't let this be his life, too.

Sam raised his head and peered down at her. "What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?"

Was she that transparent to him? Did love make her that way? "I'm just tired," she lied.

"Why don't you catch some more sleep? There's time yet before we need to be in the office. I'll hit the shower, then make breakfast. I'll wake you when it's ready."

"Okay."

Sam kissed her and got up. A moment later, Paige heard the shower start. She dressed quickly, then left Sam's house.

Sam came out of the shower. He expected to find Paige as he'd left her when he returned to the bedroom, with the TV on low. Sam liked full darkness and quiet when he slept. Having the TV on would take some getting used to. His heart did a slow roll. An adjustment he would happily make to help her sleep. He was seeing firsthand how little rest she got each night, and it struck Sam to his core. He hoped she had gone back to sleep.

She'd fallen asleep right after they made love. He hadn't been able to get enough of her. Each time he touched her, he burned hotter than the time before. He'd wanted to slow things down last night, but his need for her had overcome all else.

She'd been just as eager for him. But there'd been a desperation to Paige's lovemaking, a finality.

The thought shook him. She was being ridden hard. He knew what was riding her. Thames. She blamed herself for Thames. She blamed herself for bringing Thames into her life. Sam's words to the contrary had made no impact. She was carrying a load of guilt so heavy she was bowing under the weight of it. She was determined to punish herself. He didn't know what he was going to do about that, for either of them.

He finished shaving and went back to his room. But she wasn't in the bed. Had she gone downstairs to shower? He didn't bother dressing. It was just the two of them in the house now, and naked, he went in search of her.

She wasn't downstairs. Her van was no longer parked in his driveway. Where had she gone? Why had she left the house without him?

Sam went back to his room. As he hastily donned jeans and snagged a white s.h.i.+rt, he heard Paige's voice. It was coming from the television. Sam wheeled toward it, and there she was, standing across from the Bureau office, speaking before a crowd . . .

It was a little after eight in the morning. Many businesses hadn't yet opened for the day, but the activists were camped out across the street from the Bureau office, as they had been every morning for two weeks. Paige had called the local media and the press had gathered.

She needed to end this with Thames. It had all come down to this moment. A showdown between him and her.

She closed her eyes, battling back her fear, then looked out at the crowd of reporters and TV crews a.s.sembled across the street from the Bureau office. She'd called them here with the pretext that there was an update in the Janet Glaxton Lambert case, but what she really wanted was to send a message to Thames. If he was watching her, and Paige believed he was, then her message would reach him.

Paige looked out at the group. "I'm Special Agent Paige Carson." She paused, giving those around her a moment to recall her name. "I'm going to keep this brief. As you know, this office is investigating the homicide of Janet Glaxton Lambert. Effective immediately, I will no longer be part of the investigation." Paige repeated. "Though this office will still be active in the investigation, I personally will not be."

Paige's testimony at Thames's murder trial and at his hearing to have his conviction overturned were a matter of public record. For once, Paige wasn't trying to hide her ident.i.ty. She hoped her notoriety from the Thames case would be enough for the media to consider it newsworthy and report her announcement. An instant later, she knew she wasn't going to be disappointed.

"Agent Carson." A female reporter brandis.h.i.+ng a microphone like a sword stuck the device in Paige's face. "Why will you no longer be working the Lambert murder? Does this mean you're resigning from the Bureau, or have you been removed from the case? The FBI has issued a statement that they're launching an investigation into evidence tampering in the Thames case. You were one of the agents involved in apprehending Mr. Thames. Are you under investigation? Are you resigning from this case because of that investigation?"

Paige had no need to further engage the media. She ignored the questions and pushed the microphone away from her face.

An activist bearing a huge orange placard shouted out, "No more innocent men you want to go after?"

Paige ignored his taunt, turned, and walked away. Her stomach was clenched tight. She hoped her message would reach Thames.

"Agent Carson!"

Paige ignored another reporter. A screech of tires made her whirl around. Sam's truck rocked to a stop on the periphery of the crowd. He got out.

He was dressed in jeans and a partially b.u.t.toned s.h.i.+rt. His hair was still damp from his shower. Paige didn't need to ask what had brought him here in such a hurry.