Caleb’s voice shook when he asked, “Is it a deal?”
“Room service and champagne?” she asked, trying to sound petulant, and failing. There was too much need in her voice, and she couldn’t do anything about it.
“You bet, baby. Anything you want.”
“Including you?”
“Especialy me.”
Moving his body away from Lana’s had been one of the hardest things Caleb had ever done. He backed away slowly, feeling the caress of her tight little nipples over his skin.
He couldn’t stop himself from letting out a nearly silent hiss of pleasure.
He was shaking with unsatisfied lust. It pumped hot and hard through his veins, luring him to finish what his ingenious lie had started. The plan had seemed simple enough
—get Lana to pretend to have sex with him in the shower while he used the water to cover their conversation, as wel as possibly shorting out any bugs that might be on her clothing.
Not that she was wearing much. Just a tiny little shirt and matching shorts that showed off legs so shapely he barely even noticed the surgical scars. She wore no bra or panties underneath, just smooth, hot skin that shivered under his touch.
That part hadn’t been acting. In fact, he didn’t think that anything she’d done had been an act until the very last. Lana wanted him, and the knowledge was enough to bring Caleb to his knees. If the history between them hadn’t been so ful of land mines, he would have taken her without hesitation. He would have pinned her against the tile and filed her up until they were both too wild to care that the water had run cold. He would have tried to give her the kind of pleasure that erased past pain, or at least duled the memory of it. When she stripped her shirt off and bared her sweet, pink-tipped breasts, Caleb nearly lost his resolve not to do just that. It had been a close thing, and he knew that if he watched her getting out of the shower, he’d be a goner.
Caleb dunked his head under the spray, making sure enough water went into his eyes to keep him blind. A moment later he heard her say, “Here’s a towel.”
Caleb shut off the water. She was wrapped in a thick towel, her dark hair dripping water onto her slender shoulders. Her lips were a bit puffy and her eyes a bit wide, but her chin was high and she showed no sign of fear. Caleb admired the hel out of her for that courage. Not just any woman could stand there calmly after just finding out that her house was bugged.
“I’l throw some clothes on and be out in a sec,” she told him.
Caleb did the best he could to dry off his soaked jeans and puled his shirt back on. He gathered up her toothbrush, her hairbrush, and a few toiletries he thought she’d need, and by the time he had, she was dressed and waiting for him.
She gave him an impatient wave of her hand, and he hoped that anyone watching wouldn’t be able to see the way it shook. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lana sat in the car unable to speak. She’d made such a complete fool of herself coming on to Caleb like that. How could she have been so stupid not to see that he was just playing a role? He played Caleb the seducer as easily and convincingly as he’d played Miles Gentry, amoral mercenary.
How could she not have thought about the possibility that her house was bugged?
Lana wondered how long she’d been without privacy. Had Kara heard her screams at night? Seen her writhing on the bed? Did her screams stil make her smile?
Lana shoved the questions away before they made her sick. She could never go back there now. She had no home.
Caleb scribbled something on a notepad and handed it to her as he drove out of the parking lot.
Don’t say anything. Your clothes may be bugged.
Lana felt her neck tighten another notch, making her head throb. Was this nightmare ever going to end? Did she have to give up her life and disappear before she’d be free?
And if that was the cost of freedom, did she even want it?
She’d spent enough hours thinking about that very thing to know that she didn’t. She would never again be caged, trapped like she had been in that cave. She was going to live free, or die trying. Period.
Caleb puled into the nearest drugstore and parked away from the clump of cars nestled near the door. He reached into the backseat, fumbled in a bag, and puled out something about the size and shape of a cel phone. He pushed a couple buttons and a line of three LEDs lit up. He reached over and ran the device over her backpack turned purse. The little lights flickered, and Caleb puled a complicated knife out of his damp jeans. He slit open the lining in one of the pockets and pried out a listening device no larger than a button on her shirt.
Lana’s stomach cramped, and it was al she could do not to let out a hoarse cry of frustration. She carried that backpack with her everywhere, which meant they’d listened to every word she’d said—at work, at home, even in the hospital with Stacie. She felt betrayed. Violated.
Thank God she’d never told anyone what she’d seen in Armenia. Anyone who shared her secret would be dead right now, and it would have been her fault.
Caleb continued running the device over her purse, then her shoes. He found two more bugs. When he motioned for her to lift her arms, Lana thought he’d lost his mind. At least until the little lights went off when he ran the thing along the underwire of her bra.
Lana choked down her rage, unfastened the bra, and slipped it out through her sleeve.
Caleb gave her that look al men have when they see a woman remove her bra without taking off her shirt—the one that kids get when they see a new magic trick. She handed him the lacy bit of fabric, and he used his knife to cut open the casing that held the underwire. Another tiny listening device slid into his wide palm. He offered her the bra, but she refused. There was no way that was going back on her body.