Sky looked around for a chair and didn’t see one.

“You can sit on the bed.” Loren tilted her chin toward the garage. “Or we can go out there and you can straddle the Indian again. You looked good on it.”

“I’ll take the bed.” Sky refused to let Loren’s compliment affect her, even if her pulse did jump a little bit at Loren’s admission. She sat in the center of the bed. “Is that usual? A request like that?”

“It’s not totally out of the ordinary—bikers tend to be paranoid, militia too, apparently. Always expecting a double or triple cross. With good reason, oftentimes, especially with a deal this big. But we’ve already met with the militia leader, so this seems to be overkill.”

“Why are you going?”

Loren shrugged. “We could make noise about it, but since they’re asking, it gives me the opportunity to ask for something in return. I want a closer look at what’s going on up there. If I can get some pictures, it’ll help us ID the members and maybe find some connections. They’re getting their money from somewhere. My guess is somewhere big.”

“If you get caught up in those mountains taking pictures, they’ll kill you.”

“Well, I’ll just have to be careful.”

“Who’s going with you?” The tension in Sky’s belly ratcheted up along with her temper. Loren shouldn’t be planning an op like this without discussing it with her first. She was Loren’s handler.

“Quincy and Armeo will back me up, but chances are if I want to get anywhere near the compound, they’ll want me to come alone.”

Sky shook her head. “I don’t like it. It’s too isolated up there. We can’t get aerial surveillance, we can’t get a ground team in place. And all you have for backup is two bikers who won’t save your ass if they get wind of who you are.”

“Look, I’ve been doing this a long time. I know what I’m doing.”

“I know. Even though you’re lousy at reports, I know what you’ve been doing. I know more about you than anyone.” Sky stood up. “And you know you should have run this by me.”

Loren stiffened. Sky was right, and she didn’t like it. Sky did know more about her than anyone, and she didn’t know Sky at all. Loren didn’t like being on an unequal playing field. She didn’t like how much Sky affected her. Wrong. She liked it too much. She liked the way Sky’s skin smelled, the way they fit, the way when they kissed the connection felt immediate, intense, right. She liked the way she felt every time she looked at Sky—like she wanted to touch more of her skin, taste more of her, drown in her. Loren raked a hand through her hair, cursed under her breath.

“What?” Sky asked. “You’re going to have to talk to me.”

Loren paced a few feet away, then whipped around. “You’re a complication.”

Sky’s brows rose and heat prickled along the back of her neck. “Am I? Define complication.”

“You shouldn’t be here. You’ve introduced an unknown element into an operation that’s already in progress. We have to secure your cover right in the middle of the damn Renegades, with Ramsey and everyone else watching everything we do. And now you think I can just drag you up into the Bitterroots to a paramilitary compound with no way to explain who you are or why you’re there. You’re crazy if you think I’m doing that.”

Sky stalked toward her and poked a finger into the center of Loren’s chest. “Listen, McElroy. You might like being a lone ranger, but there’s more going on here than we originally suspected, and we need intel now. We need to know who’s funding them and what the hell they plan to do with two hundred assault weapons. You can’t be the only person on the ground out here because even though you are very, very good, if something happens to you, we lose two years of effort on this project. So you’re stuck with me.”

Loren grabbed her wrist loosely, but firmly enough to send a message. She moved Sky’s hand away from her body. “It warms my heart to know you want to keep me alive so the operation won’t be a waste.”

Sky’s eyes flashed. “Do you enjoy being a pain in the ass?”

“Immensely,” Loren half snarled.

“Well, so do I,” Sky snapped. She gripped Loren’s shirt, yanked her close, and kissed her hard on the mouth.

For a second, Loren’s body tightened, and then she wrapped an arm around Sky and tethered her in a tight embrace. Sky tasted like her name—cool and bright. Loren drank her like she drank in the morning air after a fresh snowfall. She basked in her heat as she ran her hands over the smooth, firm planes of her back. “You’re beautiful,” she murmured against Sky’s mouth when she paused for a breath.

Sky’s fingers came into her hair, twisted there, trapping her as she had trapped Sky. “Shut up and kiss me.”

Loren laughed, scooped an arm behind her legs, and picked her up. She walked three steps and sat on the bed, Sky still in her arms. Dipped her head, took another taste. Snowflakes melting on her tongue. Sky tasted fresh and clean, something she hadn’t realized how much she’d hungered for. She swung her legs onto the narrow bed and pulled Sky down beside her. Their legs intertwined and she pushed up Sky’s top, pressing her hand to the bare skin of Sky’s lower back. Sky moaned softly, and Loren groaned with the rush of blood into the pit of her stomach.

Sky pressed her palm to Loren’s chest. “Slow down.”

Loren sucked in a breath. “What?”

Sky was breathing hard, her heart racing. “We don’t need this complication.”

Loren’s vision cleared and reality returned. She eased her grip and removed her hand from Sky’s bare skin. Sky’s eyes were dark, all pupil. Fathomless. “I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”

“That’s all right, neither am I.” Sky pushed away and sat up, rearranging her clothes. Her hands trembled. “I’m sorry I let things get out of hand. We don’t need that.”

“Do you think everything is your doing?”

Sky’s jaw tensed. “No, but keeping order—that is my job. I’m sorry.”

“It definitely wasn’t orderly.” Loren slid off the end of the bed and strode to the small bathroom. She ran water in the sink and splashed her face, then toweled dry. She hung the towel up and returned to the bed. Sky sat on the side. “Let’s say what happened was mutual and let it go.”

“Yes.” Sky rose. “I need to go back to the Rooster later and look at the books.”

“I need a ride back for my bike, and if we’re supposed to have spent the last few hours rolling around here, it would make sense for you to take me back.”

“All right. I’ll grab some sleep in the car.” Sky reached for her jacket. Loren stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“That’s crazy. It’s freezing out there, and if anybody drops by, they might see you and start wondering. That we don’t need.” Loren opened the trunk at the bottom of the bed and took out another blanket. She grabbed Sky’s hand and pulled her toward the bed. “Lie down.”

“I’m not taking your bed.”

“Just lie down. Try taking an order once in a while.”

Sky shot her a look but did as Loren asked, curling up on her side facing the wall. A second later, Loren lay beside her and pulled the blanket over them.

“Loren,” Sky said, a warning in her tone.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe with me.”

Sky believed her, even though she’d never heard anything further from the truth.

Chapter Eighteen


Russo reached across Nora for the tumbler of scotch on the bedside table. He sat up against the pillows and sipped the smoky liquid. The burn left a spike of exhilaration in his stomach that tingled all the way down to his balls. Fine whiskey and fine sex. Not much more a man needed to feel satisfied, other than power over other men. And soon he’d have that too.

“The polls yesterday looked good,” Nora murmured, her voice barely tinged with postcoital satisfaction. She turned on her side and wrapped an arm around his waist.

Russo congratulated himself on his choice of lover as well as campaign manager. Nora was considering his goals too. No pointless sentimentality for her, no demands for meaningless platitudes about love and devotion. He liked that about her—she was unrestrained in bed, shamelessly unbridled, demanding what she wanted with unabashed directness. And after they’d both gotten what they sought, she was back to her controlled, analytical self.

“I think the community meetings have won us some followers, don’t you?” Russo asked. He counted on her to judge the tenor of the populace and adjust his message to keep out in front of those in both parties who cared more about ideology than actually winning. In the end, only winning mattered. He’d learned early in life to give people what they thought they wanted while maneuvering them into supporting his own goals.

With Nora’s help, he planned on using the same strategy to win the upcoming election. People thought they wanted the right to govern themselves, the right to dictate law and order, the right to determine morality—especially other people’s—and the right to ignore the rest of the world as if what happened outside the national borders had no impact on them. And his message was to tell them they were right. That their view of justice, morality, God, and the national conscience was correct, despite the fact their outlook was naïve and ultimately self-defeating. But until he controlled the reins of corporate financial power, religious influence, and military force, his first priority was to convince those who would carry him to Washington that he believed as they did.

Idly, he stroked Nora’s breast. Her body was young and tight and as coolly efficient as she was. “Powell still has the heart of the nation. Until his ability to govern is called into question, we’ll be playing catch-up.”

“Hearts can be broken.”

He laughed. “Yes. Powell needs to betray their faith, or at least be perceived that way. Right now, the people still believe he can keep them safe, free, and prosperous.”

“I thought you had plans to change that,” Nora said cautiously.

He hadn’t kept her completely in the loop as far as his dealings with Hooker and his connections with the militia. Not that he didn’t trust her…exactly. He never trusted anyone with anything that could ultimately be used against him. At least, not unless he was also willing to eliminate those who knew too much, and he rather wanted Nora by his side when he headed to Washington. Nora was ruthless when it came to manipulating people, but deep down he sensed she had a streak of moral conscience that would be at odds with some of his plans. So he didn’t discuss all of them.

“I do have people working on putting some tarnish on Powell’s shining armor, but it’s a long-range kind of thing.” He finished the scotch and set the glass aside.

“The recession has hurt him. A little more negative press, a few more instances of government ineffectiveness, and his popularity will take a nosedive.” Nora casually stroked his abdomen. “The people only love a winner when he’s winning. And you’re going to win and keep on winning.”

Russo watched her hand trail lower. Common lore suggested men of a certain age had difficulty in the bedroom. Some of his contemporaries had actually admitted it. He laughed to himself. If he was having trouble in that department, he certainly wouldn’t make it public. A man who couldn’t dominate in every area was hardly fit to lead. But he wasn’t a common man, and he wasn’t having any difficulty. He pushed Nora onto her back and rose over her, already primed. “You just keep refining my message and watching those numbers. I’ll worry about Powell’s popularity.”

She reached down and guided him inside her, locking her legs behind him. Her body tensed like a bow, her pupils widening. “You’re going to be absolutely invincible in the White House.”

He settled himself deeper. “And you’re going to look even better as my chief of staff.”

Nora smiled and closed her eyes.


*


The cab let Cam out at the corner of East Twenty-first a little after nine. The gates surrounding Gramercy Park were locked and foot traffic was sparse. She glanced up at the loft on the top floor of the brownstone that sat midblock. A faint glow illuminated several windows, and she welcomed a rush of relief. Blair was home. She’d had to wait for a flight out of Georgia, and while she’d waited, she’d contemplated calling Blair to tell her she was coming. Finally, she’d decided not to interrupt Blair’s plans and to just come ahead unannounced. If Blair hadn’t been home, she would have let herself in and waited. Blair waited for her often enough, and she’d be asking her to wait again soon, and under circumstances Blair wasn’t going to like. This detour to NYC was more for her than Blair, even though Blair had ordered her not to go anywhere without seeing her first.