Seduced by the Enemy, Harlequin Blaze #41

Taking the hard vinyl chair Jared indicated, Peyton sat at the round table in the far corner of the motel room and quickly surveyed her surroundings, surreptitiously searching for a means of escape. Her only hope was the bathroom, but from the brief glimpse she'd had when Jared flipped on the lights, she couldn't be sure if it even had a window. There had to be, she thought. Considering Jared had to have made getting out of places in a hurry his number one priority, she couldn't imagine him holing up without an alternate means of escape.

Regardless of all the tough talk, she knew in her heart he didn't plan to hurt her. Still, a part of her wasn't quite so confident. In the hard man currently holding her captive, she barely recognized the Jared she'd known. Gone was the smooth, polished Federal Agent with a promising career ahead of him. A fugitive she barely recognized remained, one accused of a brutal double murder.

Only memories existed now. Memories better left alone if she planned to maintain emotional distance.

"Jared? Are you going to tell me what's going on? I'd like to be home before midnight, if you don't mind."

He turned to face her. In the soft buttery glow of the lamplight, she finally saw him clearly. Unable to help herself, she stared in utter fascination. His dark mink-colored hair, always kept short, now brushed past his collar, the perfect accompaniment to the faded jeans and worn denim shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders. There was that slight graying at his temples that conflicted with the rebel look, adding a distinguished quality that most men wouldn't see until their mid-forties or later. He was about twenty pounds thinner than she remembered, but from the way the jeans and shirt clung to his body, she suspected no less muscular. Maybe even more so.

Much to her surprise, she realized she longed to see the hint of mischief that had once filled his green eyes, along with the lopsided grin she could never resist. If she could catch just a trace of the old Jared, then maybe the past three years would all seem like a bad dream.

She gave herself a hard mental shake. The past could not be changed. Hadn't she learned that lesson time and again throughout her life? Reality stood before her, changed and unfamiliar. She might not like what he'd become, but the hardness she sensed had always lurked beneath the surface was now more apparent than ever before. He'd been an FBI agent, one of the best. An agent didn't regularly cover Black Ops or deep cover assignments by not residing at the top of the pyramid. So what if his eyes looked her up and down now with glacial hardness. It made no difference to her whatsoever, even if it did make him even more handsome than she remembered. They were no longer simpatico. The part of her that had clung to the dream of happily-ever-after died the day he turned his back on everything good and right.

Too bad none of her arguments could change one little fact of life - Jared Romine would always be able to turn her head.

He looked at her over his shoulder. "Sweetheart, you can't go home. It's too dangerous."

The expression in his gaze rattled her. "So you've already said." She pulled in a shaky breath and let it out slow. The sooner she found out what he wanted, the sooner she could return to her life. To her safe existence where beige was an exciting color. "What's going on, Jared? If it's help you want-"

"Help?" Hardness replaced the anxiety in his eyes with an abrupt bark of humorless laughter. "Oh, you'd help me all right. Straight into the gas chamber."

She shook her head. "You're not being fair."

He planted his hands on his hips and glared down at her. "Fair? You want fair?" His angry voice dripped with sarcasm. "How fair were you when you turned me over without even waiting to hear my side of the story?"

No, she hadn't given him a chance to explain the night he'd come to her. If she had, they would've used whatever he'd told her against him. Her arms slid from the table. She balled her hands into tight fists, then stood and returned his glare with one of her own.

"They didn't give me a choice." The bitter taste of betrayal hadn't waned one iota in three years. "What did you want me to do, Jared? Risk being disbarred? Lose everything? After what they put me through, I think I paid a high enough price."

He let out a rough sigh and reached for her. "Look, I'm sorry."

Whether he was apologizing for being a jerk or for what her involvement with him had nearly cost her, she didn't know, and quite frankly, she was too ticked off at being kidnapped by him to really give a damn. She sidestepped him and made it to the nightstand to snag her keys. "It doesn't matter. I'm leaving. Don't waste your breath trying to change my mind."

"It's too dangerous for you now."

She faced him, anger and frustration bubbling up inside her. "The way I see it, the only danger I'm in at the moment is a result of having been kidnapped by a fugitive. It's safer for both of us if I leave and pretend tonight never happened."

He narrowed the space between them. "It's not going to be that easy this time, Peyton."

The unexpected and sudden gentleness of his tone stroked her like a physical caress. Sweet, caring and way out of line. Damn Jared, and damn the memories swamping her. "It wasn't the last time, either."

She spun to leave, but before she took a single step toward freedom, he had her by the arm and used care to turn her around to face him. His arm banded her waist and he pulled her close.

The feel of the long length of his body pressed against her was instant electricity. The urge to wreathe her arms around his neck and pull him down for a long, hot kiss overwhelmed her.

Now who's out of line?

"Let me go, Jared." Her nipples beaded and rasped against the lace of her bra, making a mockery of her demand.

That lopsided grin made an appearance, taking the edge off the hard angles of his face. "I remember a time when you didn't mind so much." The sensual darkening of his gaze matched the low, husky timbre of his velvety smooth voice.

The insides of her thighs tingled in response, along with the first sensual tug of need pulling in her belly. "That was a long time ago. A lifetime ago." Obviously not long enough for her body to forget that heaven could always be found with Jared.

Oh this was bad. Real bad. She had to get away from him. The last thing she needed was to complicate this mess any further. Stirring up wicked fantasies was not an option. Or worse, caving into the desire weaving through her body. She set her hands against his shoulders and pushed.

Instead of letting her go, he tightened his hold, urging her body even closer. The soft denim of his jeans brushed against her legs, turning the tingling between her thighs to a demanding throb. Feeling the hard ridge of his fully erect penis pressing against his fly was like laying a match to a fuse of dynamite.

"Then why does it feel like I held you this way only yesterday?"

Probably because it felt that way to her, too, but she kept the traitorous thought to herself. "Jared." Whether protest or invitation, she couldn't be sure. She wanted it to be protest, she really did, but the way her body was humming with anticipation, invitation was closer to the truth.

She stared, mesmerized as he slowly dipped his head. The keys slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor. She knew she should stop him, but some part of her, somewhere deep inside that still clung to traitorous old memories, ignored the necessary protests and outrage that would quickly put an end to the resurrection of the past. Instead, the second his lips brushed hers, her eyes closed and she welcomed the pressure of his mouth on hers.

She'd expected gentle. Maybe even tentative. But what began as the tender brushing of lips quickly evolved into something deeper and hotter and wetter than she'd experienced in a very long time. The last thing she anticipated was for need and desire to tear through her, causing every possible point of pleasure to pulse and throb.

As if the last three hellish years never existed, she clung to him and gave herself up to the insistent pounding of desire as she slid her hands over his torso, exploring familiar territory. As if undressing Jared was still second nature to her, she quickly undid his shirt and smoothed her hands along his bare skin. The enticing flex of muscle and sinew beneath her fingertips had her sighing into his mouth.

An invitation didn't come any more engraved.