Game of Fear (Montgomery Justice #3)(70)

“Love doesn’t feel very permanent sometimes, does it?”

“I thought so for a long time.” Gabe set his empty can on the coffee table. “My brothers’ marriages seem solid, though. Luke and Zach have found partners they can trust. If I asked either one, they’d have no doubts in Jazz or in Jenna.”

“But how can they be sure?” Deb studied her hands. “In war I watched the worst people can do to each other. Our supposed informants smiling at a soldier one moment, blowing them up the next. A complete disregard for life. No empathy for anyone. Between my career and my father, I don’t know if I can ever completely trust someone else.”

“Maybe you can’t.” Gabe scowled at her. “Hey, you’re supposed to be making me feel better, not depressed. We’re drinking buddies now. You have to have my back.”

He smiled and she wanted to smile back, but couldn’t. Her heart did a flip. She was about to say something really, really stupid.

“Is that all we are to each other, Gabe?” she asked, searching his expression. “Drinking buddies?”

Desire flared in his eyes and he leaned forward to pull her into his arms. “God, I hope not.”

Seconds later, she was lost in his kiss.




Congressman Reynolds stared out the window of his home office. He could see the Capitol dome from here. His wife entered the room and wrapped her arms around his waist. She bit his ear. “You’ve been distracted lately. Maybe you need some . . . stimulation? Some centering?”

His body pulsed to life, but he moved across the room. “Not now.”

She wrinkled her forehead and sashayed toward him. His groin throbbed at the sway of her hips. His body tightened as she ran her hand over him and then bit his shoulder. Hard. Where the bruises wouldn’t show.

He knew what she wanted. He could tell she’d be good. Make him beg for the pain she’d give him . . . and the release.

Damn it, he wanted it, too.

Needed it.

“What’s wrong, pet? You’re looking so down. We’re due for an adventure. It’s been days.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “Maybe we could play out a new scene? Or I could call—”

“No!”

She stilled, her entire demeanor shift. “You yelled at me. You don’t do that. What’s wrong, Raymond?”

He swallowed, then walked over to his computer and pulled up his e-mail. He stood back to give her a better view.

She stared at the photos and gasped. “Oh my God. Where did they get these?”

“Someone decrypted my files. They have all the videos, too. They could have everything.” His voice grew panicked. “I mean everything. Do you understand?”

His wife gripped the desk, her knuckles white. “What do they want?”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed his eyes. “They’ll call, though. I know they will.”

“We have to make plans. We’ll have to come up with a strategy.”

“It won’t work, Carla. If this ever comes out, I’m finished. Hell, we’re both finished. I ran on a platform of family values. If these pictures ever see the light of day, it’s over. No apology is going to explain that I get off on . . .”

He couldn’t bear to say it.

He sat down at his desk and buried his head in his hands. Carla slumped on the sofa, her look stunned and mortified.

The cell phone rang. He stiffened when he saw the number.

“Reynolds.”

“Congressman. I see you told your wife about us.”

His eyes widened. “Your computer has a built-in camera.” Raymond studied the small lens. He placed his finger over it. “Oh, don’t bother covering it up. We got what we needed.”

He didn’t respond.

The voice chuckled. “You were expecting our call, I believe.”

Richard said nothing, still reeling from the truth. He didn’t know how long they’d been able to view what happened in his office. His unusual preferences aside, he’d had more than one candid discussion with his colleagues in this room.

He almost never closed his laptop.

“I see you understand the implications. A little added leverage. So, now’s your chance to convince me that you really don’t want this information to leak. I need some sensitive information about Special Forces movement in the Middle East, and you’re just the man to get it for me.”




Hotel sofas weren’t meant for sleep. Gabe shifted his head; his neck protested. His muscles were in knots, but he didn’t care if he didn’t move. Deb was draped over him, sound asleep.

After kissing and snuggling for a while on the couch, they’d both fallen asleep. If his brothers heard about this, he’d never live it down.

Some Don Juan he was.

He didn’t know how much time had passed since they’d showered and crashed on the couch. He shifted uncomfortably. At six-three, he hated short sofas. He liked being able to sit down and not have his head flop back.

But last night had been worth it.

She snuggled closer to him, her warmth seeping into his skin like a hot-water bottle. The citrus scent of her shampoo filled his lungs, relaxing him even more. He toyed with the auburn strands of hair. The silky locks slipped through his fingers.

He wasn’t used to feelings like this. He usually went for nice, quiet girls. Maybe they’d just been too nice. Maybe he’d needed the fire and light and craziness Deb had brought into his life, though he wouldn’t mind skipping the explosions.