Tempting the Fire Page 22

  Anger flared like a flame in her chest, and she moved toward him. “Information? I don’t think so. The hardware in your head seems to be blocking memories of everything that happened since it was installed.” She snorted. “But wow, your childhood is really fascinating. A dog named Popeye? And could you have been any geekier as a teenager?”

  “You do not want to push me right now.” He took a menacing step toward her. She held her ground. “Who do you work for?”

  Again, she lifted her chin. “Listen to me—”

  “Who?” he barked, and this time she took a step back. “Who have you been whoring yourself for?”

  The words, and the venom in his voice, hurt more than they should have, sliced right into her, but she kept her expression neutral. “I’m here to learn about the chupacabra. Nothing more.”

  “And you decided to do it by fucking me?” He backed her against the pole again. “Did you get everything you wanted? Or do you need something else?” He tore open the fly of his pants with one hand and palmed her breast with the other. Even angry, she felt her body respond to him with a wet, honeyed rush between her thighs, and she didn’t push him away. “How about it? Want more information?”

  “Logan,” she whispered. “I—”

  He cut her off with a punishing kiss. It didn’t even occur to her to protest. Instead, she closed her eyes, and opened her mouth for the thrust of his tongue. Their teeth clashed, but he didn’t let up. His hands dropped to her waistband, and he roughly jerked open her pants. His fingers dove inside, slipped between her swollen folds and into the silky evidence of her arousal. The brush of his touch over her clit made her groan, and against her will, her hips rolled toward him, and he smiled against her lips.

  He had her exactly where he wanted, and he knew it.

  Humiliation and anger swirled together, because she’d never been this weak. She couldn’t do this. Wouldn’t. Wrenching her head back, she tried to squirm away, but Logan fisted her hair and held her for his kiss.

  She bit him. The tang of blood hit her tongue at the same time his snarled curse hit her ears. “Really, Sela?” he growled. “You really want to play it that way? Because I can do rough.”

  His words shouldn’t have turned her on, but they did, in a wild, primal way she couldn’t understand. She got all hot and achy and she didn’t want to talk anymore. She wanted to fuck.

  Smiling coldly, she fisted his cock—and her knees nearly buckled. Apparently, their sparring had worked him up as much as it had her, because he was huge, hot, throbbing in her palm. “Rough gives me more information,” she said snottily, though she was lying.

  “Then let’s not waste any time.” His tone was as nasty as hers, but there was an underlying lust that licked her right between the legs as he bent to yank off her pants. And then, as he stood up, he licked her between the legs. One hot, long stroke up her slit that nearly had her coming.

  And then he was in her face again, his tongue in her mouth, his body crushing hers against the pole and his cock poised at her entrance. He didn’t wait—there was no room for finesse and teasing in this tent. Roughly, he lifted one of her thighs and hooked it over his hip as he impaled her.

  They both grunted at the to-the-hilt joining. He filled her so completely, so deeply she felt him all the way to her heart, which had no business feeling him at all. God, she’d turned into Marlena, falling in love with the man she’d slept with.

  No. She wasn’t in love with Logan. Lust, yes. Even as pissed as she was, she wanted him. Wanted his body. That hard tool he used with brutal skill.

  “More, Sela?” he rasped, as he ground against her. “Do you want more?”

  “Yes. God, yes.” But even as she said that, she wasn’t sure what she meant by more. More sex? More roughness? More of him? She lifted her other leg so they were both wrapped around him, holding him tight, bringing her as close as she could get.

  “You feel something for me, don’t you?” He dragged his mouth away from hers and kissed a trail along her cheek. “You didn’t want to, but you do.”

  “Stop it.” This was supposed to be a hard fuck. Not some sappy session where she admitted she was softening up. But that’s what was happening. He was still angry, but she’d lost her edge and was melting into him, wishing he’d hold her like a lover instead of screwing her like the whore he’d accused her of being.

  Like the whore she was.

  He pumped into her roughly. Fiercely. Pleasure coiled tighter with each thrust, the ecstasy condensing and gathering until it had nowhere to go but out. She came in a blazing explosion of delicious spasms that had her crying out his name and not caring if the whole camp heard. Which they probably had.

  “You getting what you need?” he growled into her ear. “A lot of juicy information? Or do you need me to come? Because I’m about to. So get ready to raid my brain.”

  She cried out again, but this time in shame and hurt.

  His thrusts became more frenzied, but oddly, his grip gentled, and his mouth opened against her in a deep kiss. She felt him swell, and then his hot splashes filled her.

  I love you.

  She gasped. That … couldn’t have come from him.

  Love … you … Sela. Did you hear that, Ms. Psychic?

  Oh, God. The words, his voice, pierced her brain, and pain speared her heart. She’d gotten images from him before, and emotions, but never direct messages. He’d projected those words intentionally, to hurt her.

  And it had to be to hurt her, because he couldn’t mean it. Could he?

  Of course he didn’t mean it, idiot. She’d always prided herself on being good at using her gift—she might not like having it, but she knew how to use it. But Logan had scrambled her judgment, and for just a second there, she’d almost fooled herself into thinking he actually cared about her.

  He jerked once, twice, and then he went still, a low groan erupting from his chest. She didn’t even give him time to catch his breath before she dropped her feet to the ground and shoved him away. Sobbing, hating herself for it, she stumbled to her pants and hurriedly jammed her legs into them. Her toes snagged on the hem and she tripped as she staggered toward the exit.

  “Sela?”

  His voice was a knife through the heart. She tried to button her pants but her hands were shaking too badly. “You bastard,” she rasped. “You sick bastard.” Fuck the pants. She left them unbuttoned and tore open the door.

  “Wait!”

  She paused, but the tears didn’t. Her vision swam as she gazed blindly into the darkness. “I knew you were a hard man, but I didn’t think you were cruel. You know that the one thing I’ve never had, the one thing I want, is love, and you threw it in my face with your lie. No matter what I’ve done, I never wanted to see you hurt. But you intentionally tried to hurt me. Well done, Logan.”

  She grabbed her backpack and fled. Darted out into the night. Followed, of course, by two guards, who herded her right to Logan’s tent, where Marlena was still sleeping. Crying like a scared little girl, Sela climbed onto the cot and stretched out against the other woman, because for the first time since her mother died, she needed a friend.

  AFTER SELA RAN OUT, LOGAN SANK DOWN, FLAT ON HIS BACK on the cot in the admin tent, pants still open, his body bathed in a thin sheen of sweat.

  What the hell had he done? More important, what had he been thinking, telling her he loved her like that, like it was some kind of high-powered weapon.

  She was right about one thing—he’d wanted to shock her with the information. But what she didn’t understand was that he’d meant it.

  He’d really meant it. And he didn’t pretend to understand women any more than the next guy, but now he kind of figured that screaming I love you during sex, from his mind to hers, wasn’t the best way to broach the subject.

  A freaking psychic.

  At least she can’t read your whole mind. A small concession of relief, to be sure. But he couldn’t imagine how much he would’ve unwittingly given away.
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  He could tell she was still lying to him about who she worked for, but that wasn’t his concern at the moment. His concern was that he’d just pissed off one of the few people who could help him with the chupacabra. And so he buttoned his pants and strode, barefoot, out of the tent and toward his own tent, where Randall was guarding Sela and Marlena. Staying outside and far away from Marlena, as ordered.

  The last thing Logan needed was to piss off Chance and make him turn. The guy had been through enough hell over the past weeks, especially the past twenty-four hours. Logan had already put GWC’s doctors and scientists on finding a cure.

  He held up a hand to Randall and prepared to walk inside. Except he heard the low sobs from outside the tent and he brought a hand to his nose, squeezed the bridge of it as the guilt ran through him.

  She wasn’t the type of woman who cried easily.

  “She’s been doing that for hours,” Randall offered.

  Shit. He hadn’t realized that hours had passed while he’d been ruminating. Checked his watch and saw it was close to three in the morning before heading into the tent, which was dark save for a small lantern on a side table. The two women were sharing the cot, and any other time, it could be the stuff of most male fantasies.

  But not him, not today, because his didn’t include a sobbing woman—one he’d upset, no less. “Hey, Sela?”

  Sela sat up quickly, faced away from him as she wiped her eyes. Marlena glared at him, and yeah, he deserved that.

  “Chance is okay,” he said, as if that would appease her. “No more experiments.”

  “But I can’t see him,” Marlena shot back.

  “Not tonight, no,” he told her. “Sela, I need to talk to you.”

  “No.”

  “It’s not a question. I’ll have Randall bring you to command tent if you won’t come on your own.” A dick move, yeah, but it was the only way to get her alone.

  There was a long pause while he turned to the door. He heard shuffling behind him, and sniffling, and cursing him under both women’s breath before Sela was at his side.

  She kept her head down as she walked next to him. When he started to open the door for her, she jerked it away from him and did it for herself, stomping into the command tent. And then she stood, nowhere near the bed, arms crossed, eyes reddened, mouth twisted. “You got me here, Mr. I Like Giving Orders. So talk.”

  He sighed, ran his fingers through his hair and wasn’t sure where to begin. So much was fucked up—and just plain fucked—that he was having trouble unraveling it all. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I shouldn’t have let you hear my thoughts like that.”

  Her chin rose and she didn’t say anything.

  “I was angry with you. I wanted you to know—”

  “So you thought you’d test me and shove the love lie in my face,” she bit out.

  “Sela, listen to me. I wasn’t lying to you. I would never use what you told me against you. Do you really think I could be so fucking cruel?”

  She didn’t answer him. Yeah, she thought that. “I’m in love with you, Sela. It just happened. I didn’t want it or expect it, but it happened. You treat me … Christ, you make me feel …”

  He couldn’t continue, hadn’t had this much emotion running through him since before the accident. And it didn’t matter, because she fucking hated him now. He’d pushed her too far—pushed her away. “I meant it. I couldn’t hold it back … I’ve never actually felt this way about a woman. I guess I screwed up.”

  He didn’t know what else to say. If there was anything more he could do. And so he turned away from her and stared at his laptop, where Caroline’s email sat, unanswered. He tried not to think about the hell she was being put through, and all because of his damned company. “I’m in a lot of trouble, Sela. I’d like nothing more than to spend the next twenty-four hours convincing you that I’m in love with you, making you trust me enough to tell me why you’re really here. But I have something else going on that needs my full attention come morning.”

  “Logan, what’s wrong?” Sela had moved closer to him, actually put a hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, though.

  “My company—well, let’s just say you’re not wrong about me being ashamed of what’s been happening behind the scenes. I didn’t know how deeply my father was in a bad deal until today, when he tested Chance like that.” He paused. “These people he has a contract with—Itor Corp—they have my sister and they’re holding her until we bring them the chupacabra.”

  “Oh, my God. Your sister? Does she work for GWC too?”

  He shook his head and finally looked her in the eye. “No, she’s in college. Completely innocent. She knows nothing about the family business. Well, I guess now she does.” He laughed a little but it sounded harsh and felt like his chest was ripping apart.

  When he’d left the med tent, he’d been declared fine. Healed. Good as new. But he sure didn’t feel that way.

  “What do they want from you?”

  “The chupacabra. That’s why I’ve been looking for it for the past month, trying to bring it in alive. And now they know about Chance too.”

  THE SITUATION KEPT GETTING DEEPER AND MORE CRITICAL BY the minute. Sela sank down on the cot and drew her knees up to her chest. Her mind was a jumble that started with Logan’s profession of love and ended with the fact that he’d opened up a little about his company’s involvement with weapons development. Which was why she was here, but now things were much more complicated than they should have been.

  Right now she had to ignore the love thing and concentrate on the job. A job she was never, ever doing again. Once she got back to ACRO, she was going to tell Dev that if he ever asked her to seduce someone, she was walking. She loved ACRO, loved working in the Crypto department, but fuck if she was going to whore herself out for anyone or anything.

  “Logan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What do these Itor people want with the chupacabra?” She knew, but the more information she could get from him, the better the chances at a good outcome once her backup arrived. Though Logan would have to know the truth eventually, of course, because ACRO had to get GWC out of Itor’s pocket.

  He scrubbed his hand over his face. “Originally, GWC found the creature when we were here doing plant research.”

  “So you weren’t lying about that,” she muttered.

  He gave her a tolerant sigh. “No. We’re a weapons company, and bioweapons and treatments from natural sources are a huge part of that. Anyway, the creature attacked our scientists, and it was a stroke of luck that we managed to contain it. Right away, our scientists saw potential in the thing as a weapon—a component of armor, defense, whatever.”

  “So how did you lose it?”

  Bitterness wafted off him in waves. “Apparently, my father gave permission to have it brought back to the jungle, as bait to catch another one. Before that, we’d used its saliva to create a biological weapon capable of destroying only adult male humans. Some of our developers thought how great it would be to kill off enemy soldiers and not have to worry about killing innocent kids and women. Word of the prototype viral weapon leaked, and before I knew what was happening, there was a bidding war, and an organization called Itor won. But they wanted the chupa in addition to the weapon.”

  “And GWC didn’t want to give it up.”

  “No. My father figured we’d get another one or two so we could start a breeding program and be able to give one creature to Itor.”

  “Okay, so your plan went bad and the chupacabra got away …”

  “Yeah. That’s why I’m here. To capture it before Itor got wind of its escape. But apparently, it’s too late. And they took my sister.”

  Oh, damn, this was bad. “How long do you have?”

  “A week.”

  She closed her eyes. Itor never kept to their time line. They always—always—moved the timetable to catch their opponent off guard. “We’ve got to get that chupacabra.” She opene
d her eyes, only to see Logan look away. “Logan?” She narrowed her eyes at him, a sick feeling of dread swirling in her gut. “What are you not telling me?”

  “I can’t let her die, Sela.”

  “Oh, my God,” she breathed. “You’re going to give them Chance if you can’t catch the animal.”

  “My father wants to.” He scrubbed his hand over his face, looking suddenly exhausted. “I think we can find another way.”

  “But if worse comes to worst it …”

  “She’s my sister.”

  Sela got that, but she couldn’t let it come down to a choice between Chance and Logan’s sister. Sela had to contact Dev and step up ACRO’s time line of getting help in here. And she had to come clean with Logan. Nausea swirled in her stomach at the thought. After all her denials and lies, she was going to have to admit she’d been here as a spy the entire time.

  “Hey.” Logan moved toward her, cautiously, as though he was unsure where they stood. “What’s wrong? I know what I did to you was shitty …”

  “It’s not that,” she sighed. “I guess I’m glad you at least believe me, though.”

  “That you’re psychic?”

  She nodded. “It’s not something people generally believe or understand.”

  “I wasn’t sure I did either.”

  “I was telling you the truth when I said I didn’t get much from you.” She folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them. “Honestly, I’m glad. I hate what I do, Logan. Sex has never been real fun for me. I mean, you called me a whore—”

  “God, I’m sorry, Sela.” He sank down beside her on the cot, and his warmth engulfed her like a blanket. “I didn’t mean it.”

  Yeah, he did, but she couldn’t be angry, because it was the truth. “I’m not asking for an apology. I’m bringing it up because I told you all of that stuff about my mom, how she slept with guys so she could put food on the table and a roof over our heads. What I didn’t tell you is that I swore I would never be like her. But I got angry when I was a teen, when she left Gary, and I did some pretty stupid things. I slept with some guys I shouldn’t have … and I learned real quick that I didn’t like sex. The men would climax and my brain would get invaded by the things they’d done. Things they wanted to do.”