To Touch Poison Page 7

  Jayme nodded, reached for her.

  Kaimi squeezed her eyes shut for a minute, wet her lips. You can do this. She sandwiched one of his hands between hers. Jayme isn’t just a man, he’s part of your soul. He won’t lie to you. His hand was warm. His thumb brushed hers. Let his touch heal you.

  Words tumbled in her head, and then gushed out in a steady stream. She described the joint US, UK, and Irish project, how Kaimi Maliu had been erased and replaced with Xola Muerte, what she was doing with the formula, and the roles Fion and Eamon played in the Megiddo Project.

  Jayme had been silent, listening to her every word, but a series of harsh lines had creased his face by the time she’d finished. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, then stood, shrugged out of his travel jacket, and toed off his hiking boots. “I’m getting it, but why didn’t you let me know?”

  It was a moment before she could answer. The khaki t-shirt he had on stretched across his shoulder and chest muscles in the most interesting way, making her tingle in places she’d thought had been killed. You may be damaged, Kaimi Maliu, but you’re damn well not dead yet. She blew out a sigh. “I told you about the letter I tried to send.”

  Jayme strolled to his duffle and dug out a canteen, taking a long swallow before speaking. “Yes, but surely there was a way to… no, not without someone tracing it.”

  Kaimi nodded. “The lab has an encrypted satcom unit, but the only person I was allowed to contact was my handler.” She snagged a bottle of Inca Cola off the nightstand. “I don’t understand how you knew to follow Eamon. I overheard.” She paused. “He was going to send you a message. The G2 must have a different protocol from mine.” There was no way she’d be able to completely trust Jayme until those details were clear in her mind.

  Jayme stretched his neck this way and that. Probably had kinks from being confined to an airplane seat for hours. “Eamon is a thief and a skillful liar.” His words sizzled through the air with the snap of barely controlled rage. “He stole money from our parents, both of whom are in assisted living with debilitating dementia.”

  “Oh, Jayme. Why didn’t you ever—?”

  He sliced the air with his hand. “I don’t talk about it, but you have a right to know. The genetic link is weak, but you have to consider I might suffer the same illness. I carry the gene.” He dropped to one knee. “Kaimi I love you so damn much, and—”

  Oh, God no. He couldn’t propose now, not when she was still so damaged from Eamon’s attack, to say nothing of how dangerous she’d become to those around her. And they hadn’t even seen each other for six damn months. Her panic must have been obvious, because Jayme stood, stepped back.

  Kaimi sucked in a breath. Time slowed. She reached her hand toward his face, and stepped forward to rest her palm against his cheek. “There’s little to no evidence that Alzheimer’s is genetically linked. It’s not an issue, Jayme, but Eamon is. There’s more I need to tell you, but first I have to know exactly how you knew to follow that man.” Eamon’s desperation underscored the value of the formula, and with three governments involved, it obviously hadn’t been a secret for a long time. She had to know, explicitly, that Jayme hadn’t followed her to track down the formula for his brother. Her heart knew better, didn’t doubt Jayme, but her head had been so messed up since the attack that she didn’t trust her judgment.

  Jayme’s jaw tightened under her hand, the rough ginger stubble scratching her palm. “He has a tell. Since he was four years old or so, his right index finger would twitch when he lied. I learned to spot it because most of his lies got me into trouble, and, being younger, it took me a while to learn how to fight back.”

  The first spark of genuine humor blossomed in Kaimi’s chest. “You knew to follow Eamon because of a finger twitch? Seriously?”

  Jayme shook his head, then heaved a sigh. “Way to ruin a badly planned proposal, and I’m damn well going to blame my heinous excuse for a brother. To answer your question, yes, the twitch gave it away, but it wasn’t that simple. He specifically asked about you, and promised to give you a, and I quote, warm hello. It was a threat, Kaimi. I’m sure it was a threat. Scared the shit out of me.”

  Anger dripped from his words, scalding hot, and Kaimi had no doubt it would turn lethal when she told him about Eamon’s attack. But she couldn’t hide the truth, not if she accepted his proposal. And she fully planned to do just that. She loved Jayme, wanted to spend her life with him, and no way would she let the likes of Eamon Grady steal that from her. She’d just have to figure out a way to keep Jayme from committing fratricide, and the timing was perfect. She had distance on her side.

  “Please sit down, Jayme. I…there’s more I have to tell you.” Heat shot from her belly to her face, and she tugged the blanket more tightly around her torso. It was embarrassing. Stupidly so, but still. “When Eamon arrived at the camp, he questioned me about the formula, but I didn’t realize it was personal, about me.”

  Jayme scrubbed at his nape, tension radiating from his body. “I don’t want to hear this, do I?”

  Guilt flared in Kaimi’s belly. Maybe she should keep it to herself? But, no. It would eventually come out, and Jayme would never forgive her for keeping it from him. “No, you don’t, but we have to deal with it. What’s the word you used earlier to describe Eamon? Heinous. Yes, that fits. He attacked me, held a knife to my throat, forced me to swallow the contents of one of my test vials. It…I had a cut on my hand, and after I drank the formula it was healed. I’ve been healing more quickly than normal since I started working on the formula, but this was…miraculous. Eamon noticed and it sent him into a manic state. He drank some of the formula, probably thought it would cure his multiple sclerosis, but it caused muscle spasms and pain. He was screaming with it.”

  Ever so carefully, Jayme stroked her hair, twining it around his fingers. “I’ll kill him.”

  His touch, so at odds with his words, calmed her as she looked into the eyes of the man she loved. Forged green steel stared back at her. “No, Jayme. I want him to live, want him to struggle with his illness, and I want him to keep seeking a cure, always chasing his misconception of a dream that will never be fulfilled. It will be much worse than death, especially for a creature like Eamon. It’s cruel of me, but—”

  Jayme took her hands, turned them palm-up. “Justified more than cruel. The formula healed you?”

  “Yes, but I don’t think it’s the chemical solution itself, not after what happened to Eamon. I think it’s…me, my family, my genes. I accidently bled into the nutrient bath, and I think there was something about the reaction between the plants and my DNA that created a healing formula.” Where had those words come from? She hadn’t had time to think through the implications, but yes, it sort of made sense. More important, if it kept Jayme from becoming a murderer, it didn’t matter whether it was accurate or not.

  His gaze softened, and he placed a delicate kiss against one of her palms and then the other. “I agree. Hell on earth is a more fitting sentence for Eamon.”

  She jerked free. “There’s more. He…the formula aroused him, and he tried to—”

  “Sexually?” It came out a growl.

  The ugliness of the attack slammed into Kaimi again and she buried her face in her hands, took a moment to fight the nauseating anger, and then she looked up and held Jayme’s gaze. “Yes. I fought him, prevented penetration, but not in time to stop his semen from coating my upper thigh. There’s…it’s possible I didn’t get it washed off in time, and it could have…seeped into me.” The words left a horrible acid taste in Kaimi’s mouth, but it cleared her head. It was done. Said aloud, and never to be revisited. Now it was up to Jayme.

  “I will torture him before I kill him. He hurt you. Worse than attacking you physically, he attacked you emotionally.” Jayme paced, his rage escalating with every step.

  She caught his hand, stopped him. “No, Jayme. I’m okay. I fought him, won. I’m not a victim, won’t be, and I’m not going to wallow in the ugliness of what happened,
because it gives him power over me, and that’s not acceptable. But we still need to disappear so completely that no one can find us. Not ever. Wondering when you’ll come after him, not knowing where we are, that will be the worst possible torture for a man like Eamon. And there’s more. He and Fion are conspiring to sell all three formulas to the highest bidder. That probably doesn’t surprise you, knowing Eamon’s history, but they’re traitors, Jayme. And we have to find a way to let Fred and the CIA know.”

  He pulled free of her hold, clenched his teeth in a feral snarl. His breaths were so deep and ragged she could count them. It took twenty-three before he could look at her. Another twelve before he spoke. “You’re right. I’m not surprised. I’ll try to honor your choice to not kill him, but I can’t promise anything.”

  His words, his tone, were more cleansing than both showers and her emotional breakdown had been. Jayme had planted the choice firmly in her court, and no way in hell would she allow Eamon to steal this man’s love from her.

  “Together we’re strong enough to do anything.” She stood, dropped the blanket, and opened her arms.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  IT WAS A BITTERSWEET MOMENT. Arousal beat through Jayme, and the need to crush Kaimi to his chest, hold her, and erase every fuckin’ scar Eamon had left in her memories exploded in him. But she was trembling. Those beautiful full lips quivered, and her face was so white the freckles on her nose stood out like stress beacons. He caught himself before he stepped back. Any possibility she’d think he was rejecting her was a no-go. “If I… It’s been six months, and I’m barely hanging on here, honey. We’re gonna have to, no, I have to, ah, shower.” If he could get rid of his erection before he touched her, there was hope. He’d be gentle with her, even if it killed him.

  “Really?” The relief coursing through her voice, and her huge sigh told him all he needed to know. No sex tonight, maybe not for a long time. That shower was a vital necessity.

  “Really. Slow means we wait until we’re both ready. And in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m scared shitless I’ll do something to hurt you, to make it worse. Why don’t you divvy up that food while I wash up? Let’s eat, get some sleep, and then plan how to get the hell out of here.”

  TENSION DRAINED FROM KAIMI, AND she gasped the first full breath since she’d found Jayme outside her door. She plopped back on the bed and studied the steady, continuous motion of the overhead fan. Dark blades against a white ceiling. Simple. Basic. And a total contrast to the mess her life had become. She wanted to have sex with Jayme, wanted to love him in every way possible, but what if she freaked out? What if the simplest touch sent her into a screaming, sobbing fit? It would scare him, maybe even screw up their lovemaking forever. She had to get a grip. This was Jayme.

  Her belly rumbled, an insistent reminder that all she’d eaten today were a couple of energy bars. And the food she’d ordered still smelled good, even if it was cold by now. She rolled to her feet and arranged the covered bowl of feijoada and rice in the center of the desk, poured half the glass of Brazilian cabernet into one of the hotel-supplied paper cups, and placed the napkin, fork and spoon next to the bowl. They’d have to share.

  Standing back, she surveyed her efforts. Maybe neither one of them was ready for sex, but a little romance would go a long way to bridge the six-month gap in their relationship. She wandered around the room, turning off lights until there was nothing but a soft glow from the desk lamp. City lights lent a sparkle to the view from the picture window, and she could almost imagine their evening had become a lover’s tryst rather than the epicenter of a brewing political nightmare. Yes, she’d go with the romantic interlude option. The first genuine smile she’d felt in months touched her lips with the seductive promise of happiness.

  Jayme was in her shower. Naked. Wet. She peeked around the partly open door. Too steamy to see anything, not that she was into voyeurism, but maybe a moment of ogling would help to ease her back into sharing her body with a man. Key word—sharing.

  The shower shut off, and a few minutes later Jayme strolled into the bedroom in a t-shirt and boxers, vigorously towel-drying his dark red hair. He had thick, wavy locks that begged to be touched, and her fingers itched with the need. That had to be a good sign, didn’t it? Kaimi cleared her throat, chasing away errant thoughts of fondling the man who would be her life mate. She wasn’t ready. Knew she wasn’t, but darned if her hormones weren’t refusing to get the message. “I set supper out for us, but we’ll have to share the bowl of stew and the napkin. You get first choice of utensils. Fork or spoon?”

  He tossed the towel on the floor in the bathroom, and ran both hands through his still-damp hair. “Uh, fork?” There was a definite ‘does it matter?’ underlying his answer.

  Kaimi smiled. “Okay. We can switch it up. Trade off using the fork for solid bites and the spoon for saucy bites.” Damn. She was motor-mouthing.

  He stepped so close to her that only the scent of hotel soap separated them, and then he touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “I love you, Kaimi Maliu. Somehow, some way, we’ll work through this and come out stronger for it.”

  It was a promise. The best one he could have made, and it changed…everything.

  She backed up half a step, just enough to take both of his hands in hers. “Your, ah, almost-proposal earlier was interrupted, and I’m glad, because with my crazy psychic genes, and recent history, with the baggage I’m bringing into our relationship, it should be me who does the proposing. And you should have the choice to accept or decline. Jayme Grady, I love you with every part of my heart and soul. I offer you my love and my life. Through good times and bad, I’ll stand beside you and support you in every way I can. Will you be my life mate?”

  His eyes turned dark, and he swallowed. Oh, God was he going to refuse her? She looked down, not wanting to see a refusal.

  “I would be,” his voice cracked, “honored to share your love and your life, and I promise to stand beside you and support you in every way I can. I’m bringing my fair share of baggage into our commitment as well, you know. This is about us facing life together.”

  Relief, joy, elation—things she hadn’t experienced for a long time—burst through her. She tipped her head back up, lifting her lashes. “I have a plan. I’ll share it with you while we eat, okay?”

  “A plan would be good.” A loud, insistent growl from the region of his stomach punctuated the sentence.

  JAYME FORKED A BITE OF stew and rice, popped it in her mouth, and watched Kaimi savor the spicy flavor of their meal. He’d never met a more sensual woman, and he wanted to protect her, to hide her away from the world. Not that she’d let him. “So what’s your plan?’

  “First we need to kill Xola Muerte. My handler said all traces of Kaimi Maliu had been expunged from existence.” She held his gaze. Steady. “I believe him. The man lives to be thorough, and if we kill off Xola, there won’t be any record of me anywhere. Then we’ll move to Hawaii. My father, Kahuna Aukele, will marry us in a traditional Hawaiian ceremony. There are places on the islands where I can grow the plants I need to continue my research. The biggest problem is that neither of us has any covert training, and here we are stuck in the middle of an undefined black ops mission. Fat lot of good it’s done us to be employed by a high-powered government agency that specializes in clandestine operations.”

  Jayme swallowed, a hard lump forming in his throat. “Uh-huh. My training was basic. Nothing remotely useful in a situation like this, but lack of training notwithstanding, I’m damn positive there are a few flaws in your plan. Like, where are we going to get Xola’s body, and how are we going to kill her? I still work for the CIA and they tend to track their officers, so my disappearance is a no-go, and I have to assume that, whoever Fred is, it’s the same deal with him. Oh, and transporting any vegetation on a commercial flight into Hawaii is most likely a crime. My understanding is that the Islands are damn particular about what comes in, and I don’t see you giving up your research to find an ant
idote to this poison.”

  Kaimi nodded, her eyes bright. “True. But the project I was assigned to is dead without me, and that’s not my ego talking. Eamon and Fion aren’t close to working out the necessary calculations to actually create a viable weapon or antidote. Our government wants my formula, and I’m guessing they didn’t really want to share me with England or Ireland. And when we tell them about Eamon and Fion’s plans, they’ll shut down that operation. Why wouldn’t they, if they could have it all for themselves? I think we can get their cooperation on this. There is the tiniest problem, in that I have no way to contact Fred without the satcom link.” She shrugged. “And getting a body to fill in for Xola, of course.”

  His woman was a walking time bomb. No two ways about it, marriage to her would be a challenge. “But both of us still have the ability to contact my direct boss and your former boss. And I’d be willing to bet Fred…” He knew his voice put sarcastic quotes around Fred. No way to stop himself. “Your handler will be more than happy to hear from you, especially if you tell him you’ve made progress on isolating the antidote. And you’re right, they might well support us hiding in Hawaii, but I’d feel better if it was similar to a witness protection plan. At least for a while.”

  Kaimi scooped the last bite of stew from the dish with a slice of bread, and sighed. “Good stuff, feijoada. Okay. You work on that angle with your boss and my former boss, and I’ll work on the Xola part of the plan. There has to be a way…but if we go through with this, you know we’ll have to sell the rest of our lives to the CIA, and/or the military, as payment for their help. Or be on the run forevermore.”

  “It wouldn’t be a bad thing, having Langley behind us. Fred, I’m not so sure about.” The cold beat of forewarning pounded between his shoulder blades.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  JAYME CHECKED THE HALLWAY, THEN put their dinner tray outside the hotel room door. No one in sight. But he couldn’t shake the itch that they were being watched. He closed the door, locked it, and leaned his forehead against the cool wood. How was he going to protect Kaimi when there were so many factions after that damn formula? If Eamon or Fion had already made contact with potential buyers for the formulas…