Evidence of Passion

  Hard hands caught her and yanked her tightly against a strong, muscled body. The scent of smoke clung to Dylan as he held her in a grip that crushed her. “I was afraid you wouldn’t get out,” he whispered. His mouth was close to her neck, his breath rushing over her skin.

  She held him just as fiercely. They’d both nearly died in that car. “He did it.” Jack. He’d set Dylan up to die.

  Only... You came back to warn me. He’d wanted her out of the car, and he’d rushed toward them just before the vehicle exploded.

  If Jack had been at the scene then... Rachel pushed against Dylan. “He’s still here.” Her gaze scanned the crowd of onlookers. Some were staring at the flames with wide eyes. Some were even snapping pictures on their phones.

  “He had on a baseball cap,” she whispered. That part she remembered.

  And she remembered the sound of his bellowing cry. Rachel! Get out!

  He’d been ready to watch Dylan die, but he hadn’t been ready to let her go.

  Fury churned within her. She turned so that her back bumped into Dylan’s chest. There was one man close by who wore a baseball cap. He was snapping a picture of the flames. But he was too small to be Jack. He appeared to be barely five foot seven, and Jack—he was well over six feet.

  Where are you?

  “Rachel! Dylan!” Thomas pushed through the crowd. His gaze flew over them. “You need medics.”

  She didn’t. Okay, her head had slammed into the concrete pretty hard when the blast had knocked her down, but she was fine. Rachel looked over at Dylan. Her breath expelled on a hard rush when she saw the dark splotches on his clothes. Blood. She’d been so happy to see him before that she hadn’t even realized he was hurt.

  But Dylan shook his head. “We search the crowd. Now. He’s here.”

  Cops were there. EMTs. A fire truck raced toward them.

  “It was a bomb,” Dylan said, jaw hardening. “Set to go when I turned the ignition.”

  She didn’t want to think about how close she’d just come to losing Dylan. Despite the heat from the flames, Rachel’s skin felt chilled.

  She straightened her shoulders. “I’ll find him.” She took a step forward.

  The world seemed to grow darker then. Was the smoke thickening? Her head throbbed, and her knees gave way.

  Rachel would have slammed right into the ground again but strong hands caught her. She was lifted up, held tightly and a voice said, “I’ve got you.”

  That wasn’t Dylan’s voice. Dylan didn’t have a faint Irish brogue.

  She looked into Aidan’s eyes. Aidan looked stunned. Scared. His eyes were wide as he tried to settle her on her feet again.

  Only her legs didn’t quite seem to be working the way they should.

  “I heard the explosion. It reminded me...back in Ireland, there were so many attacks when I was a boy,” Aidan told her, pain echoing in his voice. His beard was gone and his face seemed to reflect the terror he felt.

  Dizziness rushed through Rachel before she could respond to him. Her body swayed. This time Dylan was the one to steady her. “Rachel? Baby, what is it?”

  Then Dylan’s fingers were sliding through her hair, and she jerked when he touched the spot that hurt and throbbed the worst. “Concussion,” he said. “Damn it, Rachel, you should’ve told me!”

  It was a bump on the head. Nothing more. So small. She’d walked away from plenty worse.

  But her legs weren’t walking now. And even though Rachel tried to talk to Dylan, she couldn’t.

  Because the darkness claimed her once more.

  * * *

  “I’M LEAVING,” RACHEL SAID, her voice absolutely certain. She’d been in that hospital room for twenty-four hours—twenty-four!—and she was going stir-crazy.

  A concussion. The doctors had been so worried because she’d passed out. Twice. They’d insisted that she stay put for observation.

  She’d argued.

  Dylan had told her to save her protests because she wasn’t going anywhere. Then Mercer had gotten involved, and Rachel found herself benched for twenty-four sickeningly boring hours.

  But no more. She was dressed, and she was ready to bust out of that place.

  Dylan stared at her. His wounds had been bandaged. She could see the edge of white tape around his arms. They’d both been so lucky. If they hadn’t moved fast enough—no. She slammed the door shut on that particular train of thought. She was not going there. She didn’t want to think of all the what-ifs that could have been.

  Focus on the fact that you’re both safe.

  She was also focusing on the fact that Dylan was finally back with her. After he’d gotten Mercer involved and they’d secured her at the hospital, Dylan had vanished.

  “You’re the only reason I’m alive,” Dylan said as he came closer to her.

  She rubbed her hands over her jeans-clad thighs. She’d already dressed because there was no way she was staying in that hospital any longer.

  “How did he get access to the car?” Rachel asked. That had been worrying her.

  “Thomas said there was a commotion last night and that he stepped away from guard duty for a few moments.” Dylan’s head inclined. “That’s when Jack must’ve set the bomb. Then he called me and lured me out.”

  She paced toward him. Put her hand on his chest. “He doesn’t...he doesn’t usually go for attacks like that.” He’d always used a gun or a knife before. Up-close-and-personal kills.

  Dylan’s lips twisted. “Guess I warranted special circumstances.”

  Or she had. Her gaze searched his. “He wants you out of the way. He’s going to attack again.”

  Dylan’s eyes held hers. “And he wants you alive.”

  She was still trying to wrap her head around that. Jack had actually rushed to save her. Noelle was right. “I was so sure he wanted me dead.”

  “I think we both know he wants a lot more than death from you.” He turned away. “But he’s not getting it.”

  She followed him. The doctors had tried to tell her that she needed to be taken out in a wheelchair. She’d just glared back at them. The last thing she wanted was any extra attention being drawn to her. She’d go out just fine on her own two feet.

  Dylan was at her side as they walked through the hospital corridor. A few nurses gave him long, lingering looks.

  It was the bad-boy appeal at play again, she knew it.

  Outside, Thomas was waiting near his SUV. When he saw her, he hurried forward. “I’m so sorry, Rachel.” Emotion was there, real emotion, shining in his golden eyes. “This attack is on me.”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s on Jack.” Thomas hadn’t planted the bomb. “And I’m guessing there are no new leads on him?”

  They climbed into the vehicle. Thomas was in the front. She and Dylan were in the back.

  “No, no new leads.” Thomas sounded grim. Disgusted.

  She felt the same way. “We know he’s watching us.”

  “He’s watching you,” Dylan corrected. He wasn’t touching her. Odd. He actually hadn’t touched her, not since she’d gone to the hospital.

  Maybe because he’d realized that wanting her could prove fatal?

  Rachel swallowed the lump in her throat. Dylan had agreed to play the charade of lovers, but that had been before he came within seconds of dying in an explosion.

  “Three years,” Rachel said, her brows furrowing. “That’s a long time for him to vanish from my life.”

  “Who says that he has been gone that whole time?” This question came from Thomas as he steered them through the streets of D.C. “It could be that he was close by...and you only realized it now because he decided to make you aware of him.”

  She’d had plenty of time to think in that hospital room. A guard had been at her door and
Dylan—he’d been gone. He’d left her, heading back to the mission. Rachel knew the drill. The mission always came first. So she shouldn’t have been hurt.

  But she had been.

  “If he wants me,” she said, clearing her throat because she had a plan now, “then he can get me.”

  Dylan’s head jerked toward her. His eyes looked like black fire. He gritted out, “The hell he can.”

  But she nodded. “Jack proved that he doesn’t want me dead. We need to give him a chance to get close to me again. If he takes me—” the way he’d abducted her three years ago “—then you can track him.”

  Every EOD agent had a small tracking device implanted beneath the skin. In case the agent was captured or in case the agent got lost in enemy territory, Mercer wanted a safety system in place for retrieving that agent.

  Dr. Tina Jamison had put a new chip in for Rachel just a few months before. If Jack took her...then we’ve got you.

  It was dark outside. So Rachel couldn’t see Dylan’s face clearly as he said, “That’s not an option.” No, she couldn’t see him, but she could hear the crack of fury in his words.

  Thomas kept driving.

  Dylan wasn’t being logical. “We can’t just let Jack run loose around the city. We don’t know when he’ll attack again.” And if Jack was using bombs now...talk about a whole new nightmare. Civilians could get caught in the flames. They’d been lucky that no one else had been injured when Dylan’s car exploded.

  “We don’t know when, but we do know who he’s going after.”

  Her heart squeezed at his words. “I don’t get to be the bait, but you do? That’s the plan?”

  “That was always the plan. You know that.” His head turned away from her, and he gazed out the window. “I just need to make myself a target—”

  She grabbed his arm. He might not be touching her, but she needed to touch him. “How many times do you think you can cheat death?”

  He didn’t look at her. Whatever he saw out that window had to be fascinating.

  “Dylan!”

  “As many as it takes.”

  The vehicle slowed. They pulled toward a parking garage. A familiar one. They were headed to the main EOD office.

  She sat in silence as they passed through the security checkpoint. Then they were in the cavernous garage. Dylan held the door for her when she climbed from the SUV.

  “Thomas...” Rachel glanced his way. “We’ll catch up with you inside.”

  Thomas hesitated. “Mercer’s waiting.”

  Right. The big, fierce boss. But it was her life. “Let him wait. I need to speak with Dylan. Alone.” Because they needed to clear the air between them before anything else happened.

  Thomas’s gaze assessed first her, then Dylan. He nodded. “Good luck,” he murmured to Dylan then Thomas headed for the elevator.

  Rachel didn’t move. She wasn’t exactly sure where to start this little scene.

  Dylan exhaled. “Say it, Rachel.”

  Fine. So maybe she did know exactly where to start. “I close my eyes, and I picture you burning in that car.”

  His jaw hardened. “And I close my eyes—and you’re in that damn car, burning right next to me.” He turned from her, yanking a hand through his hair. “That’s why this ends. I’m the bait. Hell, yes, I will be. Gladly. But I won’t risk you.”

  “It’s all about me!” Jack would never even be coming after Dylan if it weren’t for her. Didn’t he see that?

  “I’m the senior member of this team.” His voice was hard. “I make the calls.” He glanced toward the elevator. Thomas was gone. Dylan rubbed his jaw. “And when we go in that building, you should know that...I’m recommending you be relocated until Jack is contained.”

  What?

  He nodded, still not looking at her as he said, “It’s the best solution.”

  “No, it’s a ridiculous solution.” She marched toward him. Caught his arm in her grip and forced him to look at her. “And pulling rank on me?” Rachel shook her head. “Bad form, Dylan. Bad.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  But she wasn’t done. Not even close. “You’re the leader. Good for you. Normally, you say jump, and every member of your team leaps. Not this time, though, because I’m not just part of your team.” She took a deep breath. “Now I’m your lover.”

  “I’m damn well aware of just what you are to me,” he growled.

  “Then you know that you can’t just push me aside—”

  “I know that when you’re close, I’m at risk.”

  His words shocked her, and Rachel let him go.

  “I can’t think clearly when you’re with me. My control...it shreds.”

  “You wanted us to be together...”

  He nodded, but said, “And I knew that when we crossed that line, things would change.”

  She didn’t like the tone of his voice. Too hard. Too rough. “You...you don’t want—”

  “I want you too much, that’s the problem.” And he stepped back. Again, putting more distance between them. Did he have any idea how much that hurt her? “I need to keep my head clear. I rushed out of your apartment last night, not thinking. I should’ve checked my surroundings. As soon as the engine sputtered—I should’ve known what was happening. But I was too focused on you.”

  “I was just as focused on you,” she whispered back because he’d given her so much pleasure. Her body had been humming. She’d been so attuned to him.

  Then, in an instant, everything had changed.

  “I can’t afford that weakness, not now.” His words seemed to snap out.

  Rachel’s brows lowered. Had he just called her a weakness?

  “I’ve got Jack’s attention. Obviously, I’ve got it. And that was the plan all along.”

  She didn’t like the direction this little chat was taking.

  “So now I move forward.” His tone was that of a commander, not a lover. “And you...you, Rachel, you’re going to have to stay the hell back.”

  She actually did stumble back a step then.

  “You don’t have a choice,” he continued. She couldn’t read past the mask he wore. “I’m in charge of this mission, and you have to follow the orders I give.”

  Pulling rank. Again.

  She didn’t even know who he was right then. This sure wasn’t the Dylan she knew. Pain twisted within her. “Yes, sir.” Her own words were cold. This wasn’t the way it should be between them.

  She turned from him. So much for clearing the air. Dylan had his own agenda. She took another step then stopped. “Why didn’t you come to see me in the hospital?”

  When she’d been hurt a few months back, he’d stayed at her side the entire time. But this time...

  “Because I had a mission.”

  Her shoulders straightened. That was the response of an agent, but they were supposed to be more than just teammates. Something was changing with Dylan. This single-minded focus that he had. Almost an obsession with catching Jack.

  It...scared her.

  She’d thought that she knew Dylan. She’d trusted him enough to take him as a lover.

  But I thought that I knew Jack, too.

  She didn’t look back at him again. She was too worried about what she might see.

  Chapter Six

  “Jack took the bait,” Mercer said as he leaned back in his chair. A faint smile was on his face. “Obviously.”

  Obviously? Dylan stood a few feet from Mercer. He hadn’t bothered to sit down. Rachel and Thomas were both seated, and Noelle stood near the back wall. The better to watch us all. But that was what the profiler did. She watched and she judged everyone else.

  “We tapped into the traffic cameras near Rachel’s place. Tried to get an image of Jack from that night.” Merc
er tapped his fingers on the desk. “But Jack was careful. He kept his ball cap on, and he made sure that we only saw his back.”

  Figured.

  “He’ll make contact again,” Noelle said.

  “You mean when he tries to kill me again?” Dylan answered back. Yeah, he was more than ready for that contact to come. Only this time, he’d make sure Rachel wasn’t anywhere around when Jack got close.

  “Killing you does seem to be the current goal,” Noelle murmured.

  Dylan grunted. He’d figured that out when his ride became a ball of fire. “Are we a go on the transfer?” he asked Mercer. He’d spent the past twenty-four hours pushing for this change. Mercer hadn’t been on board, not at first. Dylan had worked hard and convinced the man to see things his way.

  From the corner of his eye, Dylan saw Rachel tense.

  I’m sorry, Rachel, but I’m benching you.

  She wouldn’t like it. But she’d be safe. Dylan knew that if he didn’t get Rachel out of there, she would be at his side when Jack came again. Only she might not walk away with a bump on the head. She might not walk away at all.

  That wasn’t a risk he was willing to take.

  “The transfer is set,” Mercer said slowly as his gaze drifted to Rachel. “And the doctors agreed with your assessment.”

  Rachel’s fingers tightened around the armrests. “What’s going on?”

  Mercer’s fingers stopped tapping. “You came back to work too quickly after your last attack. Those stab wounds were severe, Agent Mancini. And now, in light of the concussion you just suffered, it’s clear that you shouldn’t be back in the field just yet.”

  She immediately surged to her feet. “No, Mercer, you can’t—”

  “You suffered a vicious attack a few months ago, Rachel, when the rogue agent—”

  “I know exactly what the rogue agent did to me.” Rachel cut off Mercer.

  The EOD director raised an eyebrow.

  “After all, I was there,” Rachel continued, body tight. “I was there, fighting, when he stabbed me again and again. I was there when he rushed away, and I could only lie there, bleeding out on my apartment floor. I. Was. There.”