Free Morgan's Rescue by Lindsay McKenna Page B

makeshift CIA mission, and the moment their eyes met, they'd both felt the undeniable electricity. The ache to touch Culver, to find out what it would be like to kiss him, had become almost an obsession to Pilar that first month. Once some of the danger eased, they had come together like the sudden thunderstorms that gathered so quickly and unexpectedly over the Peruvian jungle. Pilar had never forgotten that first time—nor any of the times they shared. Those memories were the stuff her dreams were made of. Even now.
          Culver saw how his comment had hurt Pilar. She had turned her face away, pretending to look out the window, but the shame in her expression was clear, arousing an anger directed mostly at himself, but also at her for her ability to affect him at the deepest levels. What they'd had, while it lasted, was the best thing he'd ever experienced. He no longer knew what Pilar would call their coming together, but for him, it had been love. Pilar had brought her virginity, her innocence to him, had walked trustingly into his arms, her eyes guileless. And he'd taken her that humid jungle night, surrounded by the aphrodisiac fragrance of orchids clinging to the surrounding trees. To this day, Culver could not separate memories of her from the heady, exotic scent of those rare flowers. Nor did he want to.
          "Turn here," Pilar said in a choked voice. "We can park a block down on the right."
          "I don't want to stop in front of the apartment," he warned. "They could be waiting for us."
          "We're two blocks away."
          Culver nodded, respecting Pilar's intelligence as an agent. Despite her overriding fear for her daughter, she was keeping a cool head. "I thought your skills might be a little rusty, but they don't seem to be," he murmured, braking and pulling into a parking space in the block she'd indicated.
          "I am rusty, as you put it," Pilar admitted as he shut off the engine. Gathering up her purse, she un-snapped her seat belt. "I can use all the help you can give me."
          Culver nodded and looked around the quiet, darkened neighborhood. "This is one of the wealthy sections of town, if my memory serves me," he said in a low tone.
          "Yes, it is."
          "I'm glad you did well for yourself, Pilar."
          His words cut her to her soul. Compressing her lips, she opened the car door as she said, "Fernando was one of the finest, most gentlest men I have ever known. He cared for us. He protected us." She choked back the rest as she glared over at Culver, recognizing the jealousy in his darkened eyes.
          "I cared for you, too. I protected you. But I guess that wasn't enough, was it?"
          Pilar wanted to cry at the pain in his voice, but now was not the time. "It's the past," she cried softly. "Let it go!" Leaving the car, she hurried down the sidewalk, her hand in her purse, touching her pistol. If only she could shield herself from Culver's angry sniping as easily. She knew she had it coming, and she felt helpless to protect herself.
          As she climbed wrought-iron steps that she knew led to an alley that would take them to her apartment building, she felt Culver's presence. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw him approach soundlessly, his strides much longer than her own. His face was set and unreadable, but she could sense the anger throbbing around him. Well, he had every right to be angry.
          "Take it easy," he growled, coming up to her side. "Slow down." His gaze moved ceaselessly, casing the street as they walked. Many areas weren't lit by the sparse streetlamps and he and Pilar stuck to the shadows. Large apartment buildings rose on either side of them, and small trees lined the boulevard, with a few concrete benches at bus stops. Culver longed to reach out and touch Pilar's arm—just in case. Matching his stride to her much-shorter one, he remained on her streetside.
          Pilar tried to check