“How do you know the vaccine will beeffective if it’s given earlier?” Kirk asked.
“We don’t.”
“So we could both die.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Unfortunately?” I let out a bitter laugh.“I’m sure your heart bleeds.”
“I’m defending our country. Defending our wayof life from those who seek to destroy it. Every war hascasualties.”
“Don’t give us that war on terrorbullshit, Pembrooke. And don’t give us that goose-stepping justfollowing orders bullshit, either.”
“If we didn’t do things like this, the otherside would.”
“If you didn’t do things like this, the otherside might not hate us so goddamn much. You’re a monster.”
I wasn’t naïve. I’d done a lot of morallyquestionable things, murdered a lot of people, all in the name ofmy government and keeping my country safe. But I killed players.Politicos. Military. We all signed on for it. Creating a biologicalweapon, which would no doubt kill millions of innocent civilians…
I reached under my gown and pulled thesensors off my chest, causing the machine to flat line. Then Iripped the tape off my hand and pulled the IV needle out of myvein.
“The morphine drip is to help you with thepain. And we need to monitor your vitals to—”
“You need to shut the fuck up.” I slung mylegs over the side of the bed.
“You really should—”
“I’d listen to her if I were you,” Kirksaid.
I didn’t feel any effects of morphine. Myhead was clear, my body as achy as ever. Even so, my first stepswere wobbly, a few remaining effects of whatever they’d gassed uswith. I was steady by the time I reached the door.
Locked.
“There’s no way out of that room, not untilwe come in and get you.”
“You’d better hope not, Pembrooke. Because ifI get out of here, the things I’m going to do to you will makeEbola look like hay fever.”
I tried the door with a couple of kicks, thenmoved on to the perimeter of the room, testing walls, ceiling, andfloor until I had no sane option but to acknowledge the voice wasright. There was nothing left to do but die.
Or watch the other die.
My stomach felt hollow.
I walked back to the bed where Kirk had justdisabled his heart monitor. He was a few years older, a formidableman, a mercenary forged by the same type of red-hot violence thathad hardened me. And when I looked at the calm in his eyes, Iwondered how many times he had recognized the possibility of hisown death.
“Ever dreamed it would happen like this?”
He gave me a crooked smile. “Never thoughtabout it.”
“Not once?”
He shrugged.
“It doesn’t bother you to die in a laboratoryas part of some sick experiment?”
“Better than a men’s can in the subway.” Hegave me that bedroom eyes stare. “And I couldn’t ask for bettercompany.”
I let out a small laugh at his bravado.
It had to be bravado.
He couldn’t be serious.
Right?
I looked at him, studied his face.
Jesus, he actually was serious.
My stomach jittered again, but this time itwas a good kind of jitter.
“I took a picture of you,” I said.
No reason not to be brazen.
“What for?” he asked.
“For me. If I never saw you again.”
“But you don’t need a picture. Here Iam.”
“Here you are.”
I stepped close and circled my hands aroundhis neck. This morning I hadn’t known him. Just a few hours ago,I’d been ready to kill him. Now it felt like we were the only twopeople in a brutal world, and only one of us would seetomorrow.
I brought my lips to his.
He opened to me, his hand cradling the backof my head, pulling my mouth hard against his.
Heat spiked my blood.
Lust.
Life.
I wasn’t sure how long the kiss lasted, butwhen we broke apart, I knew it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. Neededmore. If I only had minutes left on this planet, I would damn wellmake them count.
“I know how I want to go out,” Iwhispered.
He tilted his head to the side, studying me,a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “And our friend on theother side of that camera?”
I glanced up at the lens peering down at us.“Let the bastard break out his popcorn and Raisinets.”
I thought Kirk’s little grins and sidewayslooks were sexy before, but I didn’t have words to describe hisexpression now. He pulled me tight against his body and kissed meagain, hard, needy. Beyond the river water, his skin still smelledof that Armani cologne, and a warm scent that was all his own.
I breathed him in, wanting to take everythingabout this man deep inside.
Our hospital gowns were off in seconds, andour battered bodies intertwined. At first we just clung to oneanother, kissing, probing. A dusting of hair covered his chest, andI ground my breasts against him, the sensation zapping through mynipples like an electric charge.
Then I was pushing him back on his bed andclimbing on top of him.
He was erect, and I rubbed against him untilI was wet enough to take him inside. I came on my third stroke,waves shuddering through me. I arched my back, still thrusting, andhe buried his face in my chest.
I hardly knew Jonathan Kirk. And now I neverreally would.
But right then, he symbolized everything tome.
Sensation.
Connection.
Life itself.
I wanted to explore all of him, feel things Inever had before. I wanted this to last forever, and knowing itwouldn’t made each second, each moment, each thrust and sigh andwhimper all the more profound.
I sensed the muscles in his thighs tensing,trying to hold back the coming release, and slowed my motion.
Nuzzling my breasts, he looked up at me.
“What do you like most?” I breathed.
His smile was a wicked thing. “Let me tasteyou.”
“Me first.”
I moved down his body, littering kisses overhis chest, his belly, my hair fanning over him in my wake. Itrailed my tongue up the length of him, then took him full in mymouth. I tasted myself on him, the flavors and scents mingling,intoxicating.
We were good together, me and him. I’d sensedit from the first. So much alike, yet different enough to addspice. It was
