Midnight Heat Page 9

  Since Adria had dropped her little bomb on him yesterday, he’d been working nonstop. Hell, if he were honest, he’d admit that the information about the fake Post reporter was the smallest of the bombs she’d dropped on him yesterday. A picnic table, for Christ’s sake.

  And he’d loved every damn second of it. If he had half a chance, he’d do it again. And again. Here. There.

  But now he had no chance. Forster had seen to that.

  “How in the hell am I going to tell her?”

  “Tell me what?”

  Adria stood in the doorway. Anxious with the most absurd fear that she could tell what he’d just been thinking, he watched as she walked over to his cluttered desk.

  “You haven’t slept or shaved since you left me yesterday, have you?” She peered at the overflowing trash can. “Or eaten. You’re living on caffeine.”

  And memories, he thought. “I came back and began running checks on our Ms. Greene. I’ve been at it ever since.”

  She looked as if she wanted to say something. Something personal. Not now, he thought. If it killed him he would keep this meeting business. Hell, by the time he told her about his meeting with Forster, he wouldn’t have to worry about talking to her at all. “I still haven’t been able to find out who she really is. But I did learn from a member of the recovery crew that she had flashed credentials and used Forster’s name. Which doesn’t mean squat. It’s not impossible to get Forster’s name and fake IDs.”

  Adria sank down into a visitor’s chair. “I’ve been racking my brain all night and I just can’t figure out what this woman’s agenda is. She pretends to be a reporter to grill me and try to find out what I know about the investigation. She learns I’m most likely the fall guy, then I don’t hear from her again. All of a sudden she pops up on national television, digging around looking for plane parts.” Adria leaned forward and snagged the open Coke on Dane’s desk, absently helping herself to a deep swallow.

  It was such a casual gesture, Dane thought, one not unusual between two people who’d been as intimate as they had been. Maybe that was why it hit him so hard. It was the only indication either of them had given since yesterday that anything had happened between them at all.

  Maybe it was just as well, his little voice commented. And maybe you can go to hell, he shot back silently.

  “It’s all circumstantial,” he said finally. He held up his hand to forestall her argument. “I agree that there is a bunch of it, but I ran what I had past Forster, hoping he’d give me more time.”

  “And?” Adria immediately shook her head. “Never mind. I can read it on your face.”

  When had he let the rest of his guard fall around her? Masking his emotions was second nature for him. It was his entire nature. It made him a good investigator. Plane crashes were brutal, ugly scenes of carnage and death. A little detachment went a long way. And he’d taken detachment to a whole new level. Until Adria.

  “Don’t worry, Dane. I know this makes you uncomfortable. I’m not trying to make you more so, believe me.”

  “That’s just it,” he said. “I do believe you. About everything.” And she deserved to know. He hadn’t been trying to save her the pain, he’d been trying to save himself.

  “Well, then,” she said, sitting up straighter, clasping her hands in her lap. “I guess we have our work cut out for us, don’t we?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know you don’t think you need my help on this, but it’s my job on the line. I promise I won’t do anything to compromise yours, no matter what happens. But we have to find evidence and I’m convinced our reporter is the link. Friday is less than three days away. You can’t expect me to just sit around twiddling my thumbs. I won’t. I can’t.”

  He was a dead man. Death right now would be preferable to what he was about to tell her. You’re a coward, Dane Colbourne.

  He’d never thought that of himself before. But maybe it was because he’d never risked anything of real importance to himself.

  “We don’t have until Friday, Adria. We don’t have any time at all.”

  She froze. Then, so quietly it hurt, she said, “What do you mean?”

  Dane stood and came around the desk. When he was a step from her, she shifted away.

  That withdrawal ripped into him, and he stilled for half a second. Then, as casually as possible, he rested his hip on the desk, folding his arms on his chest. The pose hid the tight fists and, he hoped, the similar tight hold he was maintaining on his control. Only the barest thread of it kept him from yanking her into his arms.

  “I just had a meeting with Forster,” he said. “He wanted an update and made it clear he was impatient. So I told him what I was working on and argued for more time.”

  He was falling to pieces inside. If Adria was feeling anything the least bit similar, she was doing a good job hiding it. Which scared him. No one was easier to read than Adria Burke.

  “I take it Mr. Forster didn’t think an unexplained third plane, a spy running around posing as a reporter, and threatening phone calls to one of the major players in this case warranted any suspicion or concern. Or any more of your precious time.” Her tone had been as cool and calm as her blue eyes.

  He wanted to beg her to yell and scream. He certainly wanted to yell and scream himself.

  “He wants my report today. Facts only, no supposition.”

  “And you don’t find this odd? This rush job, I mean?”

  He dug his fingertips harder into his palms. “Adria, I don’t know—” He pushed off his desk and stood in front of her chair. She tilted her head to maintain direct eye contact.

  “I will admit that it’s unusual for Forster to put this kind of pressure on me. But I have two other cases I’ve been working on, and he feels this is the least problematic of them. He wants it wrapped up now.”

  “Can’t he just reassign it to another investigator?”

  No! Dane was amazed he’d kept from shouting it out loud. The truth was, he didn’t want any other man sniffing around in Adria’s business or in her life, period. So he would let her take the fall for something he knew in his gut she wasn’t responsible for? You’re a real prince, Colbourne.

  “You have lousy taste in men,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. She gasped. “I’m sorry.” He almost laughed at the understatement, but instead added, “About so many things.” She paled, obviously misunderstanding him.

  He cringed. Just once he wanted to say the right thing. And if that didn’t happen now, he might never have another chance.

  He reached for her. “Come here,” he said softly. He gave her no choice, afraid of the one she’d make if he let her, knowing he had to have her in his arms to be able to explain. To her. To himself.

  She allowed him to hold her, but her body was stiff. He ran a finger along her jaw to her chin, prodding it upward until she met his gaze. What he saw in her eyes wasn’t reassuring.

  “I know you weren’t negligent, Adria.”

  “Then help me prove it.”

  “I’ve spent every spare minute and a whole bunch I didn’t have trying to do just that. I have no choice about turning in my report. The other investigators are as overburdened as I am. Forster won’t budge. He’s used to giving orders and having them followed. And once he turns it in to the FAA …” There was no need to go on; the pain in her eyes told him.

  “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep digging on my own,” she said. By the time the FAA is ready to move on this, I’ll be ready.” He must have looked skeptical, because she lifted her chin from his finger and challenged him with a glacial stare.

  “I have to, Dane. Don’t you see? Otherwise I have nothing.”

  “You have me.” He sucked in his breath, fear lancing through him. Had he really said that? Opened himself up for the rejection she was sure to deliver? Would the pain of her rejection even remotely pay him back for the pain he’d caused her by letting her down?

  “Do I really?” she whispered. “I
need you. In ways that scare me to even think about. But if you can stand here and tell me that you’re prepared and willing to turn in a report that doesn’t have all the facts thoroughly investigated and reported, that you’re satisfied with the job you’ve done here, then you aren’t the man I thought you were. If that’s the man you’re offering me, I don’t want him. I deserve better than that.”

  Dane would have sworn he felt his heart break—if he did have one.

  “I guess I don’t have a choice then, do I?” His attempt at a smile was a travesty. “What’s the worst the old bastard can do? Fire me?”

  Adria’s cheeks burned like a slap in the face when she realized what she’d really just asked of him. When had self-protection changed to self-centeredness? Her job was on the line and that was all that had mattered to her. Looking out for number one and making sure everyone else looked out for her too.

  She hadn’t taken even one second to wonder if by disobeying his boss, he would be jeopardizing his job. Was that something she could honestly ask him to do? Especially when she knew that he felt as strongly about his career as she did about hers.

  “No,” she said. “There has to be another way. I can’t let you risk your job either.”

  “Adria—”

  “No, Dane, I didn’t think. I should never have—”

  He didn’t give her a chance to finish. His mouth covered hers swiftly and surely. He held her head and moved his lips over hers, twined his tongue with hers, until she could no longer remember anything except how wonderful he tasted and how much she’d have missed never having him make her feel this way again.

  He finally lifted his mouth and let his forehead rest on hers. “You’re right. You deserve better than me. I made you a promise, that I’d find the truth. And yet the moment I get an order, it’s like I’m one of Pavlov’s dogs. ‘Sorry, but duty calls.’ I would have kept looking—on my own time, I’d have helped you, but it’s a poor excuse. I’m sorry. I’ve always been so sure that I control the system and make it work for me, I never realized just when I became the system.”

  He leaned down and kissed her again, his touch almost reverent. “You humble me.” At her confused expression, he said, “I have no doubt that you’d have gone to the wire for a colleague, for anyone you felt was being wronged—” He broke off, his eyes widening as if he’d just solved a puzzle. “That’s what the reprimands were about. You were taking the rap for someone else. Why, Adria?”

  Adria didn’t answer for a while. “It was Pete Moore,” she finally muttered.

  “What is Pete Moore to you that you’d risk blemishing your work history?”

  Adria wasn’t sure what motivated the new tension in his voice, but she was certain she shouldn’t be intrigued by the possibility that it might be jealousy. But it did take the edge off her reply. “Pete is a man going through personal hell. A hell I know all too intimately. He’s going through a divorce. Thinking I was helping him, I misguidedly helped him out a few times when fatigue and emotional exhaustion made his judgment a tiny bit foggy.”

  “You don’t have room for those kinds of mistakes in your job, Adria. I can’t believe you stood by and allowed the man to put people at risk.”

  “I didn’t stand by, I stepped in and did what I had to do. My mistake was in thinking I was helping Pete. I realized that the night of the incident. He’d let the AirWest and the Liberty get too close together. I noticed it when I took control of my position that night and moved immediately to rectify the situation. But even before the incident occurred, I’d already decided I was going to have a long talk with Pete and convince him to take personal leave and get some help. I should have done that right from the start.”

  Dane put the rest together quickly. “You spoke to Pete after the incident. Why didn’t you tell me? I specifically asked you for a list of who you spoke to that night.”

  “I didn’t talk to him that night. I called him the next day. Not to tell him about what had happened, but to follow up on my original vow to get him out of the tower. Pete was more resistant than I’d expected, and I got angry. I explained what he’d left me with that night and I guess I mentioned the primary target plane.” She paused for a moment, the heated emotion of her long conversation with Pete playing back through her mind. “He was upset, but he was convinced his job was all he had left keeping him sane. He swore he’d do better, get more rest.”

  “Adria,” Dane warned.

  “I didn’t let him get away with it. I eventually issued him an. ultimatum: Either he take leave and get counseling, or I’d report him for negligence.”

  Dane nodded, clearly respecting and understanding how difficult that had been for her. “Do you think he was angry enough to contact the media and try to point the finger at you? Could he have mentioned the target plane not knowing it hadn’t been discussed outside your talks with Beck and me?”

  Adria thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. But if our intrepid spy-slash-reporter was covering all her bases, she might have known enough to contact Pete and ask questions. The state he’s in, it wouldn’t have been too hard to get him to reveal what I’d told him. I didn’t caution him against it; it didn’t occur to me that I had to. He knows the rules.”

  “Ms. Greene, or whoever she is, could have told him she was from my office. He might have assumed he was talking on the record for the investigation.”

  Adria nodded. “That makes sense. And I guess she didn’t use the same ruse with me because she knew I’d been questioned too closely by you.” She snorted and hung her head. “Not to mention I gave her the perfect cover by assuming out loud that she was the Post reporter.”

  “You had no way of knowing.” Dane was silent for a moment, then released her and turned to his desk. “I wish we could figure out who the hell she is. I spent all night going through every database I have access to and a few I don’t. I called in favors, used contacts I haven’t used in years. No one knows this woman.”

  Adria had started to reach for him, intent on rubbing his shoulders. Her hand stilled in front of her. She felt like slime as she took in the strain and tension that lined his weary face. “I owe you an apology. You were wrong earlier. You have no reason to be humbled. Certainly not by me. I shouldn’t have said what I did about the kind of man you are. I know what kind of man you are. I’m sure I’ve always known. You’ve gone above and beyond what other investigators would have. Most of them would have listened politely to my explanation on the highly improbable third-plane scenario, and it would have ended there. Certainly when the ARTS tapes were reviewed. Even before we … became involved, you were already helping me. You’d have done the same for anyone you thought might shed light on the facts. On the truth.”

  “Adria—”

  “I owe you for going as far as you have. I’m scared and angry and I hate feeling trapped like this by the system, but I had no right—”

  “Adria, I am the system.” He pressed a finger to her lips to keep her from going on. “But this time I can’t make the rules work for me. Or for you.” He moved away from the desk, his lips pulling back until two rows of white teeth were exposed in the most devilishly sexy grin she’d ever seen. “So, I say it’s about time we broke a few.” He stopped less than a breath away. “How about it? You up for a little aviation espionage?”

  Right now Adria would have settled for air. “I should never have taught you how to smile like that,” she whispered.

  His chuckle was rusty, but it made her shiver all over. His hands settled on her hips and he gently tugged her forward until they bumped his.

  “So, are we a team?” The rough quality to his voice made her think of all sorts of teamwork she’d like to indulge in with this man.

  She nodded.

  “Good. But first I really need to do this.” He slid his hands up her back and pulled her fully against him. Just before his mouth covered hers, he whispered, “I won’t let you down again, Adria. I swear it.”

 
NINE

  Adria fumbled with her house keys, conscious of Dane right behind her. Even though they’d driven separate cars, she’d been aware of him since they’d left his office.

  That kiss … Something had changed between them. It was as if his whispered vow carried a much deeper commitment.

  She really hadn’t given much thought to what would happen between them after the case was over. Now she did.

  She finally managed to open her door. “Can I get you something to drink,” she asked as she entered.

  “The usual. Thanks,” he said. Adria was warmed by the smile in his voice. He had changed.

  “No problem.” She dropped her purse and keys on the foyer table. “If you want to make your calls, I could fix a bite—”

  Dane took her elbow and swung her into his arms, against his body. It thrilled her how smoothly, how easily, how perfectly, she moved against him. He closed the door with his back and leaned against it, pulling her with him. She rested between his legs. His mouth came down on hers and she gave to him willingly.

  His hands slid down and gripped the curve of her buttocks. “We have to get to work, set plans in motion.…” His words trailed off as he brushed kisses along her jaw and down her neck to her shoulder. “And all I can think of is making love to you again.”

  “Me too. My job is at stake, and I can’t stop thinking about … wanting to …” Her hips arched against his, making her desire clearer than any words could.

  Dane groaned. His hands still molding her backside, he pushed from the door and backed her to the stairs. Instead of climbing them, he pressed her down until she was on her back and he lay fully on top of her. She opened her legs, forming a cradle for his hips.

  Adria reveled in how readily, how badly she wanted him. How she enjoyed his intensity. His control, his command of her body, was so different, so pleasurable.…

  She had changed too.

  “The bed,” he whispered roughly. “I thought it would be nice to make love to you on a bed, but—”