Free SiNN by Tina Donahue Page A

what? Make more plans for her future that
would begin in a few short days? The enormity of what she faced slammed into
Lea, a mixture of dread and sorrow causing her to shudder.
    Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, Jake held her tightly
to him. “Come on,” he said, “it’s getting cold out here.”
    Was it? She’d barely noticed. Unable to help herself, Lea
lifted her face and asked, “Where’s out here?”
    How far was she from the life she’d made, her only friend,
her schoolwork and future? How many miles or states, people and occupations did
she still have to go?
    A touch of sadness softened Jake’s features. He murmured, “A
place where you’ll be safe.”
    He wasn’t going to tell her.
    Lea sighed. So did he, his breath brushing her forehead, its
scent sweet and clean. His warmth and strength soothed, reducing the sting of
his words.
    “Don’t leave me,” she asked. Not tonight. Not until he and
Toby had no other choice.
    Understanding sparked in Jake’s expression, along with male
need he seemed unable to resist. Tightening his arm around her shoulders, he
drew her nearer, keeping her close.
    Toby exhaled loudly, his disapproval of Jake holding her all
too apparent.
    Beneath his censure, Lea caught Toby’s sympathy for her
situation, along with renewed longing. She may have been his charge, but she
was also a woman he wanted, no different from Jake.
    Lea lifted her hand to urge Toby closer, craving both men
tonight, wanting their presence and desire to give her a sense of being safe,
cherished, no matter how brief it might last. It was all that she had.
    Toby didn’t see her invitation. Already he’d turned, opening
the door, leading the way inside.
    Lea lowered her hand and entered the building with Jake, her
body snug against his as though they were on a date, not a mission to flee a
madman.
    Flooded with light, the front room boasted a wooden ceiling
that was probably thirty feet high and smelled faintly of pine. A fireplace
constructed of stone stretched the length of the wall. Circling its hearth were
burgundy leather sofas and chairs, comfortable and inviting. Chandeliers of
what appeared to be antlers hung in various parts of the room. Their lights’
soft amber glow rained down on the rustic tables, iron artwork on the walls and
the gleaming hardwood floors.
    Drawn back to the sofas, Lea imagined their scent matching
Jake’s, the supple leather caressing her skin, his heated body on top of hers,
confining, demanding, his mouth and hands exploring, while Toby watched or participated.
    Lea’s body went unsteady with arousal, washing away her
sorrow and fear. She encouraged the pleasant sensations, not wanting to think
about the coming days, just now. Here with these men, in a house that was
decidedly secluded and breathtakingly beautiful. “What is this place? Does the
Marshals Service own it?”
    Were hidden cameras monitoring them? Is that what the
government did to people they protected, making certain those individuals
followed the rules and didn’t put themselves or anyone else at risk?
    Neither Jake nor Toby answered.
    “Another secret I can’t know?” Lea asked.
    “It belonged to my mother,” Toby said.
    Surprised, she noted the bronze artwork displayed in lighted
nooks on either side of the fireplace. The Southwestern-style pieces glinted
beneath all the lights and appeared as outrageously expensive as everything
else in here.
    “Who owns it now?” Lea asked.
    Jake withdrew his arm from her.
    The loss registered immediately. She wondered if he’d back
away, putting more distance between them.
    He did not. He seemed comfortable with their proximity, as
though they were already more to each other than a federal officer and a
potential victim…they were a man and a woman irresistibly attracted to each
other.
    Lea sensed his lust. She recognized her own.
    Toby’s frown said he wasn’t pleased. With his glare on Jake,
he answered her question. “I inherited it from my