Her smile turned acidic sweet, and crossing her arms, she leaned one shoulder against the door. "Guests, Stash darling?" she asked, surveying the three faces. So, for once Tess was wrong. But somehow Marlena didn't feel like yipping it up with her mentor this time.

One of the men gave her a look meant to insult. "You look just as good at close quarters."

"If you're here to take her in, do so," Steve cut in. His curt tone made the others stop their leering perusal of her. There was a small silence, as if they were each waiting for someone to speak up. Marlena noted that Steve exchanged different looks with each of the men. Interesting. Two of them didn't like her Stash.

"It's our turn, buddy," the man said defensively, looking at the bed. "Looks like you've taken her in already. Right into bed, that is."

The other two men laughed. Marlena studied each of them, gauging who the leader was. None of them, she decided. "Ah, the peeping Toms," she said, still leaning against the door. "Wondered when you would make an appearance."

"You have to come with us."

"Am I under arrest?" She doubted that. Too much paperwork, and she would be out with a call to a lawyer. No, she knew these people weren't going to follow protocol. Bringing in the law made it tough to hold her for long. Ignoring Steve, she met the first man's eyes squarely.

"How do you know we're the law? We could be just the usual sc.u.m you deal with." The man obviously enjoyed the role of intimidator, letting his eyes rove her body again in an insolent manner. Except that he wasn't very good at it.

"Your clothes," Marlena drawled out. He looked down at his clothing, clearly puzzled. "Most of the sc.u.m I deal with dress a lot better, darling."

One of the men-lean-faced, with longer hair-chuckled, and patted the man she addressed on the back. "She's got a point there, Whitney."

"I think Miss Maxwell here doesn't know how much trouble she's in, Cam," Whitney said, pulling at his tie and suit. "Weapons are illegal in D.C. We know you have at least two in this apartment. That's enough to haul your a.s.s in. Then there is attempted murder."

Marlena finally turned to Stash, who didn't waver under her scrutiny. "Well, well," she said softly. What had she expected, that he wouldn't go through her things? "Three peeping Toms and one thief. Do you mind if I get dressed first? Or do you want me to go with you like this?" She dropped her lazy stance and made to turn around.

Whitney shook his head. "Uh-uh, you aren't changing in there."

"In front of you?" She lifted an eyebrow. "Expecting a show?"

"Why not? You were pretty good at giving one the other night," Whitney reminded her. He took a step forward. Marlena didn't back away. She knew the man was just acting out by-the-book tactical training. This kind of manipulation, however, wouldn't work with her.

"No," Steve said quietly. But there was a dark heat in his eyes as they met hers.

Oblivious to the emotions surging under the surface, Whitney sniffed loudly. "Man, you're nuts if you think we're letting her go in there to get dressed. Who knows what else she has in that bathroom?"

"Are you saying she's going to come out guns blazing and none of us can handle her?" Steve countered mildly. Yet his eyes continued to convey an entirely different message.

Whitney hesitated at the logic. "Look, Harden's orders were not to allow her out of our sight." It was apparent that he wasn't going to back off on this.

"I'll go in there with her." Steve glanced at Cam. "Okay?"

"Oh sure," Cam said, shrugging. "You've already eyed her anyway. Hey, can I eat that ham and eggs in the kitchen while you're in there, Marlena?"

Marlena decided she kind of liked the tall, lean one. At least he didn't attempt to play Dragnet with her, choosing instead to diffuse the situation by mentioning food. "Sure." She allowed a nicer smile, to show her admiration of a skillful negotiator. "You look like you need some meat on you. There are plenty of pancakes and m.u.f.fins, if you like. I can even make you an omelet."

The tall, gangly man coughed into his fist. "I'm sure Stash...um...Steve's ham and eggs will be sufficient for now."

Amused, she let slide the fact that Cam had probably seen the green omelets she was capable of producing. "In that case, I'll be right out as soon as I can."

"You do that," Cam said easily. "Come on, boys. Give the lady some privacy."

"I'm standing right out here," Whitney said stubbornly.

The third man shrugged and followed Cam. "Yeah, okay," Cam said, not even bothering to look behind him. "You can back up Steve if he gets in trouble."

Steve came forward and took Marlena by the arm. His grip was firm, and she was tempted to shake him off. She didn't want him touching her right now. Dirty b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

"Let's go in," he said, as if he understood she was contemplating a fight. "You can deal with me in there."

Marlena could think of several ways to deal with men who betrayed her, none of which was quite as pleasurable as last night's odyssey. Images of what they had done several hours ago interrupted the torrent of names she was mentally calling him, dampening her anger. d.a.m.n it. Why did she have to like the man so much? She couldn't even get worked up when he betrayed her.

"I'll be right out here, Steve," Whitney called after them. "She makes a move, just yell, and I'll be right there."

"Uh-huh, thanks, man," Steve murmured, as he gently nudged Marlena back into the master bathroom. He closed the door and locked it.

Steve knew he didn't have much choice in what was happening. This was Marlena Maxwell, known a.s.sa.s.sin. This was an operation to find out whom she had been contracted to kill. He was part of the team, following orders. Last night there had been an attempt on a very prominent businessman's life. That kind of news made it quickly through to headquarters, and of course by morning TIARA HQ would know from police reports that Marlena Maxwell happened to be a guest at the party. These facts pointed to a possible tie between their suspect and the attempted murder. Marlena Maxwell was known for these kinds of things. And here was where it all ended.

Except that last night he had been very sure Marlena hadn't had anything to do with what happened to du Scheum. In fact, du Scheum had trusted her enough to let her wander around his study. But he needed Marlena to tell him that herself.

"It isn't what it looks like," he began, then wished he could retract his words. Not the best way to begin an argument with Marlena, by going on the defensive.

She moved away from him and walked to the closet. Not looking at him, she said, "No? You mean you weren't sent to keep an eye on me and report on my whereabouts at all times? You weren't going to put me into a slammer the moment you found any evidence against me? You weren't planning to sleep with me just to get closer?"

He knew that no matter how he answered, she had him. He couldn't be defensive and do his job. He leaned back on the closed door. "If you knew, why did you let me?"

She paused, then pulled out two pairs of lacy underwear. "Let you what?" she asked, frowning at the panties as if she had to make a very important decision.

"Let me stay with you. Why did you let me make love to you?"

Marlena tossed one pair of panties back into the closet and pulled out another. "Red or black?" she murmured.

He wasn't going to be rated below the importance of ladies' underwear. In one swift stride he was behind her, turning her around to face him. Her hand swung up, aiming for his solar plexus. He blocked it, barely escaping a blow as he ducked from her other hand. There was a loud clatter where his hip hit the dressing counter, scattering makeup and jars.

"Hey, McMillan, you okay in there?" Whitney yelled through the door.

Steve grunted when he was quick enough to avoid the brunt of the second attack. He caught her arm and used her forward momentum to propel her into his arms.

"McMillan?" Whitney said again, banging on the door.

"Yeah, stay out there...oomph..." The woman had sharp elbows. He curled an arm around her waist and lifted her off the floor. "Lena, please, I don't want to hurt you."

That was another wrong statement, he realized. It only made her madder. Now she wasn't just throwing punches; she was using her training to hurt him.

He cursed loudly when she connected with his kidney, forcing him to release his hold. She dropped to her feet and jammed another elbow into his ribs. He managed to get out of the way this time, slamming the closet doors shut.

"I'm coming in," Whitney yelled, jiggling the doork.n.o.b.

"Stay out there," Steve yelled back. Obviously his brain had gone south, not using his skills to subdue her. Grimly he caught one attacking hand and pulled her forward again. This time, knowing about those elbows, he locked both her hands behind her and jerked her back so she would lose her balance. He forced her backward against the counter and with his free hand, pulled her by the hair, tugging her face up.

Her eyes were blue fire as she glared. "Let me guess," she taunted. "Now you're going to kiss me into submission."

"Done," he snarled back, temper edging over. The woman obviously didn't know how to talk. He bent his head and fitted his lips on hers.

Her response was just as savage as his. Wild heat. Molten pa.s.sion. There was a raging need in him to make her admit that there was more between them than what she accused him of. Her taste-untamed, yet sweet-enveloped his senses. He kissed her till she just held on to him, no longer fighting him. They were both breathless when he came up for air.

"Your gang out there is waiting to interrogate me, and you have a hard-on," she whispered huskily. "Lots of things going on, darling."

She wasn't angry anymore. There was a soft sadness lurking in her eyes, as if she had something to say but wouldn't. Steve shook her by the shoulders. "You can stop this," he said, temper roughening his voice. "Give them what they want and stop this. Then you and I can continue what we started."

Marlena caressed his cheek. Her smile was evocative, resigned. She shook her head. "Do you know the law of inertia?"

Steve frowned. She wanted to talk physics now?

She leaned closer and kissed him lightly on the corner of his lips, her tongue flicking out sensuously. "Law of inertia. A moving object continues to move and will keep moving." She sighed. "I always finish my job. This keeps going, all the way. Hand me my panties, please."

Steve shook her again. "Give me something to work with, d.a.m.n it!" He couldn't believe she would choose to forget what they had shared, just like that. "I can't do anything if you don't help yourself."

Marlena gazed at him curiously. "Why would you want to help me, hmm?" He didn't know what to say, since he had no answer. She gave a wry grin. "You have to give me a reason to trust you."

Steve picked up the red panties from the counter and handed them to her. He took a step back and let her slide off the counter. She ignored him as she prepared herself.

Chapter Eleven.

I t had been five hours. Steve had run the gamut of emotions throughout the afternoon. He hated not being able to do anything. For five hours he had felt frustration, anger, admiration even. He hadn't been allowed into the interrogation room, and could only watch through the two-way mirror. He hadn't been allowed to talk to Harden before he went in there, and thus, wasn't able to convince his commander about Marlena's possible innocence.

He had sent a message through Cam, telling Harden that he had information about last night's events. He wanted to give his side of it, about du Scheum's friendliness with Marlena, about the dead man. He wanted to point out that Marlena's weapon was in the apartment at the time of the attempted murder. He wanted to ask why the need for the alternative hit man, when she was usually the one suspected of doing the job herself? Cam had come out of the room shaking his head.

"Not necessary, he said. He had read the police reports. Later, he said." Cam looked at Marlena on the other side of the mirror. "She's one cool customer, boy. d.a.m.n if I don't start liking her mind as well as her body. She sure knows how to distract with that leather outfit."

Steve just sat and watched. He wanted to smash a fist through the mirror. It didn't matter how cool she looked in leather, how she didn't bend under Harden's tough grilling. It'd been five hours, and they hadn't given her a break. Hadn't offered her a phone call. Since she wasn't technically arrested, she didn't even have a lawyer. They were in an underground room, a top-secret ent.i.ty investigating a sensitive case. They had broad powers to do certain things that wouldn't hold water in a court of law.

He knew in his gut that they had it wrong. Harden's refusal to listen to his conclusions puzzled him. From questioning Cam, he found out the reason Harden had given the orders to haul Marlena in. They figured that since the attempt on du Scheum's life had failed, they should stop Marlena before she tried a second time. But if his O.C. would at least give him a chance to tell him about her and Tess, and his suspicion that she was here to sell or buy something, he could at least show an alternate reason she was at the function. No, Cam said, with a shrug. Harden had said that they had her cornered now. Sooner or later she would break down and tell everything they wanted to know.

Well, it had been five hours, and as far as he could tell, she hadn't told them a d.a.m.n thing. He could only grit his teeth as he listened, wishing that he could just walk in there without jeopardizing the investigation. His O.C. was obviously isolating her from all that was familiar. That was the first thing to do in an interrogation of this kind. Steve had never seen it firsthand, since his job with his SEAL buddies usually ended at this juncture of an operation. If there were prisoners, they were taken out of their hands. So now he was seeing what happened after the fact, he thought. At any other time he would have been totally immersed in the experience, but this was Marlena. And he found himself torn between duty and...and what? He ran weary fingers through his mussed-up hair. It just wasn't possible to care about someone after such a short time, was it?

"You must be getting tired and hungry, Marlena. Don't you want to eat or drink? We'd be happy to get anything you like. This is taking longer than we antic.i.p.ated." Changing tactics, Harden's voice was deceptively concerned. Listening on the other side of the mirror, not caring if anyone was watching him, Steve snorted.

Marlena sat slightly sprawled on her seat, rocking her chair back and forth. "You must be tired and hungry yourself, Mr. Harden," she said, giving him a crooked smile. "You do know I can beat you at this p.i.s.sing contest, don't you? Women have bigger bladders, you know. And fewer control problems."

Steve just knew she was going to launch into another ten-minute protracted discussion of bladders and control problems. This had been her routine the whole time in there. Harden had started out tough in the beginning, but couldn't intimidate her. He had then, in turn, been sarcastic and rude, threatening and insolent, and now his demeanor was quieter. Yet his cool green eyes never betrayed any of the frustration Steve felt. He seemed to be perfectly satisfied with whatever answer Marlena gave. Where the h.e.l.l was he going with this?

"Well, you must admit, I have something you don't have at the moment. Freedom." He leaned forward, his hands on the table. "And freedom is so important to a woman like you, isn't it? Tell us who hired you and why target du Scheum. We know you're connected to arms dealing. All we need is the name of the person who hired you. If you cooperate, I can a.s.sure you that your freedom won't be too severely curtailed. The state attorney is a friend of mine."

Marlena stopped rocking her chair and leaned forward so that her face was close to her interrogator's. "Know what? He's a friend of mine, too," she confided in a whisper.

"These friends in high places," Harden said, totally unperturbed by her revelation, "are they willing to help you out of your predicament? Or are they going to throw you to the sharks?"

Elbows on the table, she rested her chin on folded hands. Steve couldn't see her expression, but he knew how she looked anyway. Disdainful. Arrogant. And powerfully s.e.xy in her cool and collected way. This was the Marlena he'd first known, who knew he'd been watching her in the bar, who had been aware someone was following them to the apartment.

"Like you were thrown to the sharks, Mr. Harden, when you dropped the ball a few years back?" Steve saw his operations chief stiffen, for the first time caught by surprise. Marlena had bided her time to attack, that was all. "Do you think, like you, I would lie down and let them bulldoze me?"

There was a pause as the two adversaries in the room stared at each other. Then Harden slowly straightened. Very softly, he said, "Miss Maxwell, I'm going to give you a couple of hours to think this over. If you won't cooperate when I return, we will try again tomorrow. This can go on indefinitely, do you understand?" When Marlena shrugged in answer, Harden studied her a moment longer before adding, "There are people like you rotting in jail without formal charges, Marlena. The state attorney can't help you without appealing to the attorney general. And it takes a long, long time for the process to go through."

Steve's heart plummeted when he heard those threats. He didn't doubt that Harden would keep his word and send Marlena into captivity. He had recently read about the case where a Libyan had been held for more than a year without his attorney ever reading any of the evidence claimed to exist, linking him to a terrorist organization. It took two years before the lawyer managed to put the case in front of the attorney general, who finally freed the man. Steve didn't know whether the Libyan was really a terrorist or not; all he cared about at this instant was that his Marlena might face the same fate. His hands fisted on his lap.

"Think this through very, very carefully, Marlena Maxwell," Harden warned.

"Can I have my purse now that you're going off?" Marlena stretched, seemingly unafraid for her future. "A woman can only do so long without a little lipstick, darling. And I'll have my gla.s.s of water now, please."

Harden's expression was shuttered as he examined her, then he nodded and left the room. Breathing in slowly, Steve willed his hands to unclench. It wouldn't do to let his O.C. see him in this state. Marlena, on the other side, accepted her handbag from the newly arrived Cam. There was nothing in it except makeup and some cash. Didn't she understand that she wouldn't even have that stuff if she allowed herself to be confined? Frustration rose again.

"Thank you...Cameron, isn't it? For the drink, too."

"No problem. If you need the ladies' room, just yell. Someone will hear you."

"Would they come to let me out or would they just sit there and watch me squirm?" Marlena's query was amused, nodding toward the mirror.

Cam didn't deny that they did that sometimes, but after a pause he said, "Tell you what. I'll check back in myself to make sure you get to the ladies' room, if you want to."

"Thank you," Marlena said.

When Cam left, she turned to the mirror to face Steve, and for the first time in five hours, they met eye-to-eye, even though she couldn't possibly know where to look. But Steve felt her gaze deep into his soul anyhow, whether she knew it or not. She c.o.c.ked her head slightly, raising one elegant eyebrow. Then she smiled slowly, in that challenging way of hers that reached right in and grabbed his beating heart.

"Hi, Stash baby," she crooned. Then she coolly started to apply some powder and makeup. He didn't know whether to laugh or curse.

The door behind Steve opened. "Thanks, Cam, I owe you one," Steve said as he continued watching Marlena.

"Not a problem."

"Will Harden see me now?"

"In an hour, he said. He wanted you to cool off first, I guess, after sitting in here for five hours yourself." Cam sat next to him and watched Marlena for a few seconds. "He probably wants to give you a chance to think about what you're going to say to him, buddy."

Steve stood up. "He doesn't want to talk to me, does he? Why didn't he say so?"

Cam shrugged. "Can't really guess what's on the chief's mind. He didn't break her in there but he seemed quite satisfied when I talked to him, as if he had a few answers already."

Steve shook his head. "Then the art of interrogation is lost on me. I didn't hear anything she said that was of help to the case."

"That's probably because you weren't listening much, I bet." Cam's voice was wry.

"I heard everything," Steve said quietly. "Harden and you and the rest of the team may think my head is elsewhere, but I can a.s.sure you I pay attention to everything. After all, I knocked down that would-be murderer and talked to du Scheum. I was there. What I saw and heard is just as relevant as the police report. If he doesn't want to listen, I'll have to go about it another way."