Which alters when it alteration finds, part 2

part 1

by Gail (gem225@hotmail.com)

"Hey." Clark's voice was sharp enough to cut through her trance, and she opened her eyes to see him frowning. "Come back here."

She swallowed. The memory was still with her, making her feel as though she was far away from him. "I wanted it, Clark. So it was my fault."

"Listen, Kate." He leaned forward, very serious. "Bodies like being touched. It's part of the programming. I know." His face was suddenly wry. "I found that out in prison." He saw the look of shock she tried to suppress and laughed. "Believe it."

"It's not the same thing."

"Close enough not to matter." She was silent at that. "I was stuck in there, no other options, a lot like you were." Maybe he did know what he was talking about. "One day in the shower I felt a guy grab my cock. He wrapped his fingers around it, it got hard, and I didn't give a good damn that it was a guy's hand. I wanted to get off. And I did. Then I returned the favor. That had its appeal, too." His face softened. "Baby, don't blame yourself because you came on your brother's hand." Her cheeks were burning at his honesty, even though she was glad of it. "Or was it better because he was your brother?"

That question she could answer. "No, it wasn't." She hesitated, and he caught it.

"Tell me." His voice was rough, but not unkind.

She sighed. "It was better because it was a secret." She looked down, but his fingers were there suddenly, tipping her face back up.

"So what?"

"Listen," she was getting angry, "just because you're crazy doesn't mean I can handle being too!"

"That sentence doesn't exactly make a lot of sense," he said dryly. "And I'm not crazy. I'm different. Like you."

Her anger was gone. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Forget about it. You didn't make me mad, but if you keep on saying that, I will be." He dismissed it, and turned the conversation back to her. "That's why affairs are so much fun, Kate. They're secrets."

"You have an answer for everything."

"Try to," he said easily. "Think about it, and remember, you didn't do anything wrong. It was just how you were wired."

"And now? That I still want it?"

"So what?"

"You keep saying that!"

"So you want games. It's not the end of the world, Kate. There's nothing wrong with you." He spoke slowly, and as far as she could tell, seriously. "It's just part of who you are. And if someone really loved you," from the baiting smile on his face she knew he was talking about Clayton, "he'd accept that. But he doesn't, does he, Kate? The truth this time."

She let herself say it. "No, he doesn't. Doesn't accept it. He does love me."

He gave her a mocking look, but didn't say anything more about that, and she was grateful. It was important to her to be sure of Clayton's love.

"He's part of the reason you feel so bad about this, him and his attitude. Well, baby, you've got to figure out if it's worth giving up what you like and want for him. Because that's how it's going to be if you stay with Webb. He'll never play games with you. Count on it."

"I don't want to talk any more," she whispered. And she didn't. This was something she was going to have to think about, and she couldn't right now. Not around him.

He stood. "Good, because neither do I." He was in front of her, crouching, his hands on her thighs. "I'll bet talking made you just a little hot. Didn't it, baby?"

She tried to keep her thighs together, but his hands were sure and strong. "Doesn't matter," he answered himself. "I'll show you what a guy can do who doesn't think you're crazy." He chuckled, and the breath stirred her fine hairs. She felt herself getting moist.

"Where's the camera?" This had to be for Clayton's benefit. Maybe if she remembered that, she could keep herself under control.

"No video." She wanted not to believe him, but she did. "This," he kissed the inside of her thigh, drawing a moan, and destroying that idea, "is for you."

"Why?"

"Because I want it that way." His mouth came closer, and pressed a kiss on the top of her crest. "It's okay to remember the good parts of the games, Kate. Go ahead. I'll be your brother for you. And when you get freaked, look down. It'll be me."

She moaned again as his tongue flickered against her inner lips. Her brother had done this, not until they were older, though, and she loved it. "Please," she whispered.

"Please, who, baby?"

"Please, Clark."

"Good. You know it's me. Now just relax. You look a little inflamed here." His voice had a clinical, detached edge to it that fit the game he was setting up. "I've got a treatment that'll work just fine, but I need to start it now."

She knew she had mentioned that game to him, as well as to her therapist. It was a coincidence that he chose it to play now, especially after the detailed memory of it she'd just had, but that was all right. She wanted it, from him.

"I'll make it all better, baby," he assured her between licks and sucks. "Want me to?"

"Yes," she breathed. "Oh, please, Clark."

He didn't answer her in words, instead concentrating on bringing her higher and higher until the muscles in her thighs convulsed and she came. He let out a low laugh when he stood and saw the slackness in her face. "Better now?" he teased and reached for a paper towel from the roll on the table.

She managed a smile as he wiped off his face. "Yes. But what about you?"

His expression became more intent. "What about me?"

She risked a quick glance down to his pants. Yes, he was hard. "It doesn't look like you get anything out of this."

He looked down at his crotch and shrugged. "You want it, Kate?" His eyes came back up to hers, and they were bright and hard. "Ask for it."

She shook her head. She wanted him, but she didn't want to want him, and she wasn't going to ask. "No. I was just curious." It was almost too hard to say it, but she got the words out.

"I think you were a hell of a lot more than that," he said dryly. "But we'll go with my schedule if you're not willing to be honest with yourself yet." His smile was thin. "I'll get some when it's time, Kate. You don't have to worry about me. But thank you."

She flushed. This was insane. Her boyfriend's enemy had just gotten her off, again, she had let him, and now he was being Mr. Polite. "I'm not worried about you," she flung back.

"Oh? I must have heard wrong." He cocked his head. "Sounded to me like you were wondering if this was going to be the time I put you down on the bed, or, actually, here it would need to be the table or the floor, and gave you exactly what you've been after ever since you found out what I was going for. But I'm not, Kate. Not this time. And since you're not willing to cop to your own feelings, you're just going to have to wait."

She didn't say anything more. She wasn't going to say what he wanted.

"Fine. I'll make dinner. Out."

She stood, holding on the back of the chair to support herself, then made her way out. He ignored her, and she was glad of that. Clayton was right about Clark Palmer. He was volatile and dangerous. She had to be more careful around him.

*****

After dinner, which was quiet and strained, Kate got up to find her book.

"Where the hell do you think you're going, baby?"

She stopped. "To read." She was proud of the calm in her voice. She was not going to let him get to her.

"No, I don't think so." He got up and grabbed her wrist in the same motion. "I don't see why I should let you run around." He led her into the bedroom and pushed her down on the bed. "Why should Webb be wrong all the time? You can stay here until I'm ready to let you go." He was fastening the cuff around her wrist as he spoke. "Hope you don't need the bathroom."

She was glad she didn't. "I'll be fine," she said stiffly and fought back the urge to beg him to let her go. She couldn't do that.

He laughed shortly. "That's right, you like this. Or at least you like it when I'm here to make it fun. Have fun, baby. And be quiet." Her look was startled at that. "I've got some work to do." She thought he was going to go, but instead he lingered, his eyes cool and unreadable. "Later, Kate."

With that he was out the door. She hugged herself, the chain cool against her skin. Would he take it out on her any more than he already had?

She opened her mouth to call out, maybe even apologize, but remembered in time what he'd ordered. She didn't want to do anything to upset him even more. She settled back against the pillows and reached for the blanket. She was shivering, and she hoped it was only from the cool air.

*****

Kate felt herself drift back up to consciousness. She yawned and pressed herself closer to the warm body next to her, then let out a small shriek and tried to sit up. The firm arm around her waist stopped that.

"Oh, no, baby," Palmer drawled. "You stay right here."

"You're naked," she blurted out. She could feel his wiry pubic hair up against her buttocks, and tried to keep very still. She thought she felt his erection as well, but she couldn't be sure. It had been a very long time since she'd been in bed with a man.

"What a smart girl." He chuckled and pressed up closer to her. Now she was sure he was hard. She knew she was wet, and knew that he knew. The head was nestling into her lips, and his fingers were playing there too. "Now what do you think I'm going to do with you?"

"Whatever you want." Her voice was shaky. She hadn't slept with anyone since her brother, and this wasn't how she'd wanted her first time to be, but what could she do?

"Whatever I want. I like that." She expected him to go ahead and push it in, but instead he stayed put. "Just relax. I told you, I'm not your brother. I'm not going to rape you. When it's time, you'll be more than ready. Willing, too." He pulled back so that there was space between their bodies.

"That matters?"

"To me it does. Surprise." He turned her over to face him. "But it is time for you to give me something back." She felt him take her right wrist in his hand and guide it down. "Stroke it, Kate. I'll tell you if I want it different."

She felt her inner muscles tighten with both excitement and dread. This was something she also hadn't done since her brother, and she didn't know if she could.

He put his hand over hers, molding her fingers around his hard shaft. "Stroke it," he repeated as he started an up-and-down motion, his hand still over hers. "Make me feel good now, Kate. You know how it goes." His voice was a whisper. "Come on. Then I'll do you again."

That was enough to get her to let go of her misgivings. She wanted it, wanted to give him something, and wanted more herself. "All right," she whispered, and kept stroking even after he took his hand away.

He liked it harder than her brother had, she found out almost immediately. After a few strokes, he put his hand back over hers and tightened her grip until her knuckles whitened. "That's better," he murmured and took his hand away. "Keep going. You've," his breath hissed out, and she knew she was doing it right now, "got me so damned hot, Kate. I want to fuck you so bad. But on my terms, baby. Mine."

"What are they?" she murmured. She was liking this. Why hadn't she tried it before now? Because she hadn't found anyone who was interested, the thought came. Or anyone who was interesting, too. And it had been too soon. Well, it wasn't too soon now.

"First," he was gritting his teeth, "I get off."

She nodded and kept stroking. Soon his cock swelled even more, and he arched his back and splattered his come over her still-gripping fingers. He gasped for air, then slumped back on the bed. It took him much less time to recover than she expected.

"Now you?"

For a change, his voice had a question in it, and she knew why. She had changed from a captive, someone who was being forced into something, to a participant, someone who did what she did willingly. She nodded and leaned back against the head of the bed, spreading her legs. He grinned and sat up, snaking his hand down with the confidence of a man who had just won, which he had. She couldn't fight him any longer.

"That's my girl," he whispered, and she felt herself climb toward orgasm. "Come on, let it out. You want it, I know you do."

"Yes," she gasped and went over the top, his clever fingers pinching her clitoris with a delicacy she loved. How he knew her so well, she couldn't imagine. But it was something about him she certainly didn't want to change.

*****

They were dressed and at the kitchen table, having some wine, when Palmer brought up the encounter. "See?" He filled her glass to the top. "You do just fine in bed. You just have to have the right conditions. Something I have no trouble at all giving you."

"Why are you making such a damned fuss about this?" She knew she was blushing, but tried to ignore it. "You've kidnapped me, Clark. I'm nothing to you, just a pawn in your little game."

His eyes bored into hers. "I'm getting tired of you saying things like that, Kate. You're a hell of a lot more to me than a pawn. Use your brain." She stared at him, refusing to answer. "Very well. Because Webb won't ever give you what I can."

"And what would that be? You're a fugitive, Clark, and a killer."

"Not a fugitive, a dead man. Kate, 'Clark Palmer' is dead. I've got some other names that work just fine, though. And the best thing about them is, nobody knows what they are." He grinned, the sight of his white teeth chilling Kate. Somehow this man had staged his own death and resurrection, and there was a reason for that. Could she ask him that? No. "A killer? I kill when I have to, just like everybody else in this world. It just happens that I'm good at it."

"Clayton says you kill for money."

"He's right. So what? Wouldn't you, if you thought there was a good reason for it? I think you would."

She tried to put the conversation back on track. "Clark, I don't understand what you think you're doing with all this."

"Yes, you do," he drawled. "But go ahead and deny it, baby. It's your life."

She shook her head to clear it. "I want to go home. I want my life back."

"Soon," he returned equitably. "You can make it sooner, you know."

"How?"

"Beg me," he said very softly, his eyes glittering with an intensity that fascinated her. "Show me I've made you see just how much you need it." He leaned back, still keeping his eyes on hers. "You do that, I'll be on the phone to Webb as soon as I'm finished with you. And assuming he'll cooperate, you'll get out. Well, Kate? How does that sound?"

She made herself breathe and look away. "I'll think about it," she managed.

He chuckled and stood. "Yes, you will," he murmured. "I can see that much." His voice changed, becoming abrupt. "Go into the bedroom, Kate. I'll be there in a little while. That'll be your chance. Take it, and leave. That's the deal."

"O.K." She pushed herself up and steadied her body against the table. It was trembling. He wasn't paying attention to her any more, she saw, drinking his wine with a thoughtful look on his face. What did he have to think about? What he was going to do with her? She made herself walk away.

When she got into the bedroom, she sank down on the bed. There wasn't anything to think about. She wanted him, wanted to beg him to take her. She couldn't hide from it any longer. She wrapped her arms around her body. She'd deal with what came out of her desire, and his, later, especially how Clayton would take it. She had to survive, and she had to have Clark. It would only be this one time. He'd said as much himself.

*****

When he walked into the room, she was sitting on the bed. "Well, hi there." His voice was a mocking drawl. "Is that your final answer?"

She met his eyes with ones that were steady. "No." Her voice was just as steady. "This is."

She pulled the shirt, one of his, off over her head, then just sat there, showing herself to him. He'd seen her, she knew, but this time it was with her consent. Her nipples were hard enough to ache, and she wanted to touch them. But she'd wait for him to do that.

"I like it." She couldn't tell anything much from his voice now, or his face. One was light, the other closed. "So you've decided to give in?" He stripped off his shirt and kicked off his shoes in a lightening-fast motion. It made her even hotter. Clark wanted her, she wanted him, and they were going to have each other. "Clay will be so happy when I tell him."

She closed her eyes at that. The mockery in his voice was almost too much to bear. "Please. Don't talk about him."

"Have to," he breathed. He was on the bed with her now, his arms around her and his fingers spread over her breasts, stroking her nipples with a teasing that made her squirm against him. "You're doing this to get back to him, aren't you, baby? Or that's what you're telling yourself." She tried to turn, but his arms were suddenly steel, holding her in place. "Tell me the truth, Kate. This change of heart is pretty damn sudden, and I think I know just who to thank for it." He spat out the last words so hard she felt moisture on her shoulder, and jumped. "The truth. Now."

This tone she hadn't heard from him before, and it scared her. She had to answer him, and lying didn't even occur to her. "No, Clark." Her voice was small. Even this way, he was like her brother, at least when he was older. That was when he'd gotten weird about other guys, wanting to know that when she played with him, it wasn't because she was hot for them. "No. This isn't for Clayton. It's because," she swallowed, "I want you."

"Is that right?" His voice was back to a normal one, for him, and his fingers found her nipples and pinched with a sureness that made her whimper. "You want me? Say it again, Kate, and maybe I'll let you have it."

It was even harder the second time, especially with what he was doing to her, but she made herself. "I want you, Clark. Please..." Her voice died off as he rotated their bodies so that he was on top of her. She could feel the head of his erection pressing against her wetness, and thrust up toward it.

"You've got me, Kate." He was whispering, his lips finding hers. "Finally."

She wondered what that 'finally' really meant, but he was sliding into her with a motion that wiped everything else out except the need for him. He took his time, making her come over and over, crying out for him, before he sped his strokes and ground his body against hers until he was deeper inside her than anyone ever had been. Only then did his breath catch and his body stiffen.

When he pulled out of her, he didn't leave the bed. Instead he wrapped his arms around her and kept her against him. "Pretty Kate." He was whispering again. "Stay with me."

She let her head fall on his shoulder for her reply. She couldn't move if she wanted to. Right then she didn't care if she ever did again. And why Clark wanted to hold her, that didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was there, now.

*****

She woke up alone. She listened for him, but everything was quiet. Where was he? She sat up, and it hit her. He wasn't there. He was out making arrangements for her to go back to Clayton and the real world. That was their agreement. Of course, he might have been lying. That thought made her smile. It had been so good with him. How could she leave?

But, how could she stay? Her smile faded. Clark Palmer wasn't someone to plan a life with, no matter how good he was at giving her what she needed. That was insane. He hadn't done anything to make her think there was any chance at a life with him, and she had to stop deluding herself. She had to go back, find some way to be who she was without letting anyone else know that... but that was insane, too. What was she going to do?

She heard footsteps and knew they were his, then he was in the bedroom. "Well." The drawl was back in his voice, the mocking one. "Better get that pretty body into the shower."

"Yes, Clark," she managed. Before she could stand, his hand was there to pull her up.

"'Yes, Clark,'" he echoed. "What's with you, Kate? You sound like you lost your last friend, and I know you haven't. I'm still here."

"Nothing." She couldn't talk to him about this, she realized, and forced a smile. "Just tired."

"Don't lie to me, baby." His voice was as intimate as the fingers that cupped and held her chin in place. "You don't have the talent for it."

She closed her eyes to shut out his probing ones. She'd believed him, she knew in that moment, believed every single word he'd said about caring about her, wanting to help her, wanting her. And she couldn't let him know.

"Come on, Kate," his voice was softer now, "you know better than to pull this on me. I can get whatever I want from you. Don't make me work you over again."

She made herself pull away from him. Oh, how she wanted him to do what he was threatening her with, but she shouldn't, and she wasn't going to let herself think that way. "You promised to call Clayton." It wasn't what she wanted, but it was what she was going to have.

His hand fell. "So I did." His voice was light. "And you expect me to keep my word. How touching."

She gave him a wary look. Was he, or wasn't he?

"You'll have to wait and see," he answered her unspoken question. "But right now, do what you're told. Don't want to get me mad now, do you?"

"You wouldn't hurt me." Damn. She'd said that?

He didn't look surprised at the comment or deny it. "There's lots I can do to you that wouldn't be hurting, baby. I don't think you'd like it if I decided to bring you this close," his fingers were barely apart, "to getting off, then stop. And kept doing it. I think you'd go a little crazy." He chuckled. "I really should do that. Maybe make Webb watch. Torture you both."

There was something about the idea that both fascinated and repelled her. The fascination was stronger. "Clark, please." She knew what she was begging for, and it was anything he chose to do to her.

Whether he picked up on that, she didn't know. "Shower. Now." What she saw in his face made her scamper to the bathroom. Maybe he would hurt her. She didn't want to find out for certain.

When she got out, she found him stretched out on the bed, with jeans on and nothing else. "Come here." His voice was low. "I want more of this willing girl. Once just isn't enough."

"What about Clayton?" she whispered even while she moved toward him.

His eyes shuttered. "Just can't wait to get back to him and that cold bed he'll be giving you, can you? Well, baby, we're still playing by my rules, and you're going to have to wait for me to say it's time. But don't worry, I will be calling him. Make me happy, and maybe I'll call sooner."

She wanted to make him happy. So much for fighting him. She couldn't. "What do you want?"

"Right now," he sat up and grabbed her wrist in one motion, jerking her onto the bed, "I want to hear more about this brother of yours and his games. And don't tell me you don't feel like it. I feel like it. That's enough."

She swallowed. There was something she'd been thinking about in the shower, something she could tell him. But could she stand to?

"Now, Kate." His voice was steel. "Or you find out just how much fun I have killing people."

"Not..." She put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from saying it out loud.

"Oh, yes. Clayton. I'll make sure you get to watch, too. Like that idea?" His eyes were glittering with a passion she couldn't resist. But she didn't want Clayton dead, or anyone else.

"Please, Clark." She couldn't stop her trembling. "Please don't. I'll do what you want."

"Better. Start."

She closed her eyes to steady herself. "It got different when we got older. He started getting, oh, I don't know, weird."

"Tell me about it." His voice was softer now. "Everything. You know I'll get it."

She sighed to herself. No. This was something no one could get, not even her.

*****

"What're you doing?"

Her brother is standing in the doorway to her room. She looks up from her math book. Freshman year in high school is a lot harder than eighth grade. Lonelier, too.

"Homework. Don't you have any?"

"Nah." She knows he's lying, but he won't listen to her. He's got that look in his eyes. He wants to play. Seeing that look, she wants to, too.

"Where's Mom?"

"Basement. Come on to my room."

"Mom's going to want to know what we're doing with the door shut." She's trembling. She wants it so bad, but one of them has to have a brain, and he doesn't seem to.

He reaches down to grab her book. "Homework, stupid. That's what we'll say. You know she's *happy* we're so *close.*" His voice is sarcastic. He doesn't like either of their parents too much right now. She figures it'll pass.

"She wouldn't like us being this close." He is out of the room, and she hustles to keep up with him. "You know she wouldn't."

He shuts his door before he answers. "Kate, you know people don't understand. We're not doing anything wrong. We're just playing. What do you want, to try this with some stupid boy who's in your French class? I know what you like." He pushes her onto the bed. "And you want it. I know you do."

"Please," she begs. It was bad enough when it was just a game they played in her tree house, but now she's well into puberty, and her body's messages are urgent and insane. The game's changed now, and sometimes she wonders if it's really a good thing. But she can't help herself, and he won't.

"That's right, Kate. You beg me for it." His eyes are glittering. "I love it when you're all desperate. You know that?"

"You won't do anything dumb, will you?"

"You talk too much." He's got his penis out of his pants and stuffs it into her mouth. She moans around it. It's all too much. But she can't stop it. He's right. She needs this.

"Kids, want some cookies?" Mom. She's right outside the room. What if she tries the door? Kate panics and gets free, and he glares at her, but doesn't try to get her start again.

"No, thanks, Mom. Maybe when we've finished this problem." His voice sounds normal. How does he do it? "Kate's having some trouble with the math."

"It's good that you help your sister. All right, you just come out when you think you need a break."

"Thanks, Mom," she calls and hopes she sounds O.K.

The footsteps go briskly down the hall, and he shoves it back into her mouth. "Good girl." He's whispering. "Get me off, and I'll give you what you want. Come on. Come on and do it."

What is she going to do when he goes away? Who will ever know her that well again? She pushes the questions away and brings up a hand to stroke his balls. Anything he wants. Anything to keep this going.

*****

She gasped as Clark's fingers stroked her cheek. "Poor Kate." He actually seemed to mean that. "He knew just how to get you. It must have been hell to quit cold turkey."

"It was."

"But he'd done that one thing you couldn't forgive, or explain." His voice had a thoughtful quality to it. "Tell me about that."

"Clark, I can't just..." She gasped again. He was on top of her, pinning her body with his.

"Can't you? Well, maybe I'll just recreate the scene, Katie." The use of her hated nickname made her tense. "That what you want?" He chuckled, the sound frightening her. "Maybe it is. Maybe you're finally ready to admit you wanted your brother in you all along."

"I did!" The sound of her own voice surprised her.

He rolled off her. "All right. We're finally getting down to the truth." He didn't sound angry any more. His bright eyes found hers and bored in. "Tell me about that time. Tell me what it was like getting what you wanted."

"I didn't want it that way."

He nodded. "Understood. But you did want him."

He'd changed the pronoun, but she pushed that away. "It was... crazy. But everything between us was then."

"He got possessive. That's what you told that Cheryl."

She nodded. All right, he was trying to make it easier. Or get the information quicker. Didn't matter. It helped. "Insanely so."

"And you didn't like that."

"He'd been accepted to college, and all he could talk about was when I'd come to visit him. That I should have been taking more courses so I could graduate quicker." Her eyes were dark with pain. "How we'd get a place together and never have to lie again."

"Trapped. That's the word for it." His voice was calm, no amusement at all, even, she thought, compassion. "You couldn't get out and you couldn't get away."

"I told him I didn't want to any more. He didn't believe me. So I got Dad to put a lock on my door. I told him I didn't want anyone walking in on me, and he bought it. Oh, did he get mad."

"Your brother."

"Yes." This was so hard to tell. "I didn't lock it at night. I mean, they were right there. He wasn't that stupid, I thought, or that desperate. I was wrong."

"We both know what happened," his voice was soft, "but tell it anyway. Say it out loud, Kate. Face it."

He was right. She needed to face it, and she would. "He came in one night, gagged me with his hand, and shoved it into me. He didn't even try to get me going. He just wanted it, and he took it, and it wasn't at all how I'd thought it would be." She waited for him to say something, but he just looked at her, and she told herself to keep going, and did after a moment. "Then he started whispering to me. 'You want it, Katie. You want me. It's O.K. to like it. You can't stop it. You can't stop me. I'm taking this; you're not giving it.' And I got wet, and I started moving with him, and I came and came and came. I loved it then. And he knew it."

"And you blew the whole thing open... when?"

"After a week of that." Her voice was a whisper. "Every night, the same thing." There was something she had to ask him. "How do you know all this?"

Something changed in his eyes, and she couldn't read it. "Your brother's a talky drunk."

"Oh." She looked down, but his hand was there to take her chin and stop the motion.

"Don't." His voice was rough. "Damn it, Kate, don't turn away from me. I'm not going to take it again."

Again? "Who's turned away from you, Clark?" Kate felt tears trickle down her cheeks. "Who's hurt you? You know everything about me, and I know nothing about you."

He was silent, then laughed with a grim humor. "Well, baby, I didn't think you'd be interested."

She wiped at the tears and tried to stop crying. "I am. Please." Clayton would say she was letting Clark get to her, but he wasn't here, and he hadn't seen this side of Clark Palmer. She was doing what felt right to her.

"Who's turned away from me? Everyone, Kate. Everyone I've ever known." He laughed again, just as grimly. "Father dead, mother not interested, and then boarding school until I was old enough for college. You thought you were a freak? I knew I was."

She swallowed. What a thing to carry. "I'm so sorry."

"Oh, don't worry about it." The mask was back up as he tossed the statement off with a casualness that didn't fool her. He was hurt, and she didn't want to be someone who hurt or turned away from him again. "Guess you mind I talked with your brother. Too bad. I needed information." The look in his eyes was hard. "And he sure as hell had a lot of it."

She minded, but she understood. But there was still something she needed to ask. "Is he still alive?" She wouldn't put it past Clark Palmer to have decided the world didn't need her brother in it any longer.

"Last I heard." His voice was indifferent. "But you never know. The way he puts it away, I wouldn't be surprised if he fell down some stairs."

She steadied her voice. The only way she could make up for this was to be like it hadn't affected her. "Too bad."

He gave her a look of amazement, then chuckled. "Well, maybe I'll take care of that next time. You still want me to call Webb?"

That was one she couldn't answer directly. "That's your decision, Clark, not mine."

"And that's even better." The purr was back in his voice, the seductive and dangerous one. "My good Kate." He pulled her against him, and she gasped with the suddenness of it, and the quick desire that took her over at the feel of his hard body against hers. "Show me what you can do." He chuckled again. "What you want to do. For me."

She lifted her lips to his for a start, and he took them with a thoroughness that made her surrender even deeper. She wanted to do everything, anything, for him. How was she going to survive this one? This was worse than her brother, because now she had no walls against him, no excuse, and she was older. She knew what she wanted, and it was what Clark Palmer was offering her with both hands. But could she trust it? Or him?

He made a quick move and had her pinned down on the bed with her hands over her head, and his hands tight around her wrists. "Tell me you want it, Kate." He was whispering into her ear, so much like her brother that she almost panicked and struggled against him, or gave in and lost herself in memories. But his voice was his own, his smell was his own, and that held her there, in the present, with him, Clark. The man who accepted her as she was.

He was still, his eyes were fixed on hers, hardening, and she knew she had to say something. "I want it."

He pressed the head of his cock into her, but no more. "Again, Kate. Say it again."

"I want it." He still didn't move, and her voice got desperate. "I want it, I want it, I want it, Clark. Please."

His laugh was short. "You want it, Kate? You mean just anyone who knows what gets to you is enough? Maybe I should go out and find a guy, test my theory out. Don't worry, I'll make sure he'll do it right. Maybe even Clayton Webb would be enough for you, if he had the right moves. You think?"

The thought of another man was too much to bear, and adding Clayton to the thought didn't help. She didn't want Clayton right now, she wanted the man who was holding her down and making her wait until she thought she was going to go crazy. "I want you. You, Clark."

"I thought you'd never figure out what to say," he taunted and jammed it into her. She gasped and jerked her hips up to meet him. "And you such a smart girl."

She moaned as he kept up the rapid motion, wishing she could put her arms around him, but he still had her wrists trapped. "Please, Clark," she begged. "Please."

"You want more than this?" He stopped suddenly. "Better tell me, Kate, because I can't think of anything."

"No, please, Clark. Please don't stop." She had to have more, she had to.

He laughed as he started thrusting again. "Don't worry about that. I've waited a long time for someone like you, Kate Fontaine. A very, very long time."

There was something satisfied about his laughter, and something joyous. Was it because he'd gotten what he wanted from her? Her thoughts were scattered by the force of the pleasure that took her higher and higher to orgasm, but there was still something going on between them that was different, that she needed to figure out, but not now. Oh, no, not now.

After a long time and more wild orgasms, he groaned and came, too, pulling out in a quick motion. "Sweet Kate," he murmured and released his hold on her wrists, replacing it with his firm arm around her waist, keeping her against him.

She relaxed against his sweaty body and tried to think. If it had been any other guy, she'd have sworn he was happy, a simple, open, genuine happiness. But she knew what Clayton would say about that. Clark Palmer didn't have the capacity for simple happiness. So was she crazy to think so? Or just brainwashed?

She sighed. She didn't care. She just wanted this to keep going. Her old life looked very bleak to her now. But maybe Clayton wasn't what Clark said he was. Maybe if she talked to him, he'd understand what she needed. Maybe. And right here against her back she had a man who did understand, but a man who killed people for a living. No certainties, no answers, nothing but questions and problems.

She made herself shut her eyes. She didn't think she could sleep, but she had to try and stop this kind of thinking. It was driving her crazy, and if Clark found out she was worrying, it was a good bet that he'd take some kind of steps to stop it. She didn't really want to find out what he'd do.

*****

Clayton knew he should get out and do things, try and have some kind of normal life, even though Kate was taken, but he couldn't make himself do anything more than go out for groceries. What if he missed the phone call? It didn't help to know Palmer would probably know to call him on the cell phone. He was all alone in this, no backup, no other agents, nothing, and it didn't help to know all he had to do to get some help was to take the tapes to the Company.

He couldn't do that. Let people see Kate like that? If she found out, she'd have every right to be furious with him, and that he didn't want. So he was on his own, and Palmer knew it. And was sure that he could probably get Webb to do just about anything.

He scowled. Why the hell didn't the man just get it over with? Because Palmer was probably enjoying the knowledge that Clayton was thinking, and feeling, just that. No, Palmer would wait until it was the right time for him to call with demands. And he was going to have to be ready to promise the ex-agent anything. But not necessarily give it to him. He'd decided that much. Even for Kate, he wasn't going to betray the Company. A grim smile crossed his face as he remembered another time he and Palmer had faced off, on the Kamiko Maru.

*****

Palmer's got a wild look in his eyes as he stares down from the upper hatch. "The clock's ticking, Rabb." He's just threatened some woman Rabb's seeing. When did he have time to find a woman? And where? Must have been through work.

"Give it to him."

"What?" He's serious? Leave it to a Navy pilot turned lawyer to melt at the first hint of danger to the loved one. Now if he'd gone through Company training, he'd understand he'd just given Palmer all he needed to get whatever he wanted, always.

"Give him the superconductor."

"I can't." Someone's got to be reasonable, and Palmer's up there enjoying every damned second. And when is he going to start shooting? It's too bad about the woman, but Palmer's probably not stupid enough to really do anything to hurt her. Interesting, though, to see what makes Rabb break. If they live through this, he'd have to look into this Jordan Parker, see if she was worth it. If they live. Palmer's got good position on them, and he's not going to stick at killing them. At least once he's got the superconductor.

"We don't have a choice, Clayton."

Time to try some reasoning. "She could be my girlfriend, Harm, and I still wouldn't give it to him."

Rabb's lost it, his gun pointed at me. I know what I'm going to hear, and I hear it: Palmer's laugh. Yeah, allies turning against each other, his favorite thing.

"You can't shoot me. I'm the only one who knows where it's hidden."

Thank god, that reaches him. Rabb turns his gun back to Palmer, who returns the fire.

*****

And now it was his girlfriend, and he had to make the call. Would Kate, or the ghost of Kate, ever forgive him for not being as willing as Rabb to throw everything away as long as it kept her safe? Palmer would kill her if he didn't give up what the other man wanted him to. In that minute he was certain of that much.

The phone finally rang, and Clayton grabbed it from the table. "Webb here."

"Hey, Clayton." Palmer's tone was as light as if he were a friend, but that was Palmer for you. "This a bad time?"

"You know it's not." His tone was too curt, he knew, but he couldn't change it. "What do you want?"

Palmer chuckled. "Oh, if you're too busy, Clay, don't worry about it. I'll call another time."

"Now is fine." He couldn't lose this chance. He had to find out what Palmer was going to ask for.

"That's better." The man was practically purring. "I was beginning to think I really did have the wrong girl. Although I wouldn't be that upset to hear that. I'm beginning to like her, Clay. Nice pick."

Clayton fought against the urge to slam down the phone. Palmer was trying to get to him, he reminded himself. He couldn't let that happen. "Am I supposed to be glad to hear that?"

Palmer laughed again. "Of course you're not, Clayton. Although a guy who dates a girl as pretty," he paused, "and passionate as Kate," Clayton's breath hissed out, and he damned himself for giving Palmer any reaction, "and doesn't do anything about it has to expect some disappointment. A girl can't wait around forever, you know."

"What do you want?" Clayton spaced out the words.

"You don't like hearing that Kate comes when I get my hands on that beautiful soft body of hers?" Clayton couldn't believe it. The man was talking about Kate like she was some kind of toy. Kate was a person, a wonderful, intelligent person. The fact that she was beautiful and maybe some day, passionate was beside the point. "Or when I sink my cock into her? Clayton, Clayton. I can't believe you're so provincial. Can't believe you've kept your hands off her for so long. How come, buddy?"

"She's gone through enough without me adding to it." Clayton was proud of how even he kept his voice. "But I'm sure you don't care about that."

"As always, Clayton, you're right." There was something about Palmer's voice that didn't sound right. "But I don't have the time to get into it with you now. Go down and wait outside." His voice was cool now, and Clayton frowned. He'd missed something, but he didn't have time to try to figure out what. He hoped it hadn't been too important, or that he'd put it together later. "A cab will come, and the driver will know you by name. Do what he tells you, and he'll take you to me. And Kate."

"I want to talk with her, make sure she's all right."

"You don't make the rules here, Webb. I do. Remember that. Figured out just what you're willing to do to get her back?"

"Tell me what you want, then I'll tell you if I can." He had little hope Palmer would go along.

Palmer chuckled. "Oh, no, Clay, that's not how it works. I tell you what I want, and you do it. Or, you pay."

"What about Kate?"

"Kate?" Palmer repeated the name as though he didn't know what it stood for. "Oh, Kate. Don't worry about her, Clay, I'll make sure she gets what's coming to her."

Right then, Clayton wished he had put aside all his scruples and gone to the Company. He wanted backup, he wanted people surrounding the site, and, most of all, he wanted Kate back, without having to play these damned games with a man who lived for them. "If you won't guarantee her safety, I'm not going along with a damned thing you say."

Palmer laughed, and the gay sound made Clayton grit his teeth. "You've got that all wrong, Clay. If you don't go along, she pays. And you've seen what I do to her."

"Yes, I've seen." Clayton knew his jaw was going to hurt later, with all the clenching of his muscles to keep control. He could call someone now, though. It didn't have to be going in on his own. And that way he might never have to show anyone the videos, especially if they killed Palmer, which was a reasonable possibility. He started running through a mental list. King, sure, and Mahoney, Davison if he was back...

"I'll tell Kate you'll be here soon. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to see you again. And Clayton, don't get any ideas about bringing in the Company now." Clayton bit back his anger. Of course Palmer had already thought of that. "You do, and we are gone. And you'll never see pretty Kate again, unless it's in a satin-lined coffin. But don't worry. None of this is her fault, so I won't make her suffer. She won't even know she's dying. I'll do my best to see she's got a sweet smile on her face just for you, to remember her by. Pity it won't be *for* you, but that's how it goes."

The thought of that made Clayton want a gun, and Palmer right in front of him, unarmed and ready to be taken down with one shot. But there was something else he had to address. "There's a mole in the Company, that's what you're telling me." That was important, if true, and maybe Palmer would say something, even denying it, that would confirm it for his purposes.

Palmer dismissed it. "I've got my sources, and that's all I'm telling you. But you must know that, a smart guy like you. See you in a while, Clay. Unless you're ready to say goodbye to Miss Fontaine."

Clayton heard a click, then silence on the other end of the phone, and realized Palmer had hung up on him. "Damn," he breathed and grabbed his coat. He looked at his gun longingly, but didn't pick it up. He couldn't put Kate in any danger, and he was sure Palmer would either search him or, more likely, have him searched. He had to get out and make sure he was there when the cab came to take him to meet the bastard. At least it was going to be over.

*****

Clark Palmer clicked off the phone and hurried back into the bedroom. His mouth curved into a smile when he saw Kate stretched out on the bed, sweetly asleep. How he wanted to go over, put his arms around her, just be with her. But Webb was coming. His smile twisted into one more cold. Coming to get his Kate, as Webb thought, back. He had to have everything ready before the man got there, including moving to somewhere safer. This was a good hideout, and he wasn't ready to give it up.

He went over to the sleeping woman, back under control, and got out his equipment. This wasn't the time to explain. That would have to wait until they got there. He swabbed a spot on her upper arm, then slid in the needle with a gentleness that would have surprised quite a few people he'd drugged.

He watched her as the sedative took hold, relieved that she only shifted in her sleep and murmured something he couldn't catch, then started pulling clothes on his body, and hers. This was all part of the plan, he reminded himself, not for the first time. Get the girl hooked on the sex she clearly wanted, put Webb through the tortures of the damned knowing his enemy had her, and he couldn't do anything about it, then give her back to Webb, and let him find out the hard way that he'd never get what he wanted from her.

He picked Kate up in his arms, cradling her against him. And he'd screwed up. He'd fallen for her. He'd had his flings, but never gotten to know a woman as deeply as this, and never anyone who made him feel... protective. Tender. Even something that he suspected was close to loving. He wasn't the sociopathic robot people like Rabb and Webb thought. He had his loyalties, his friendships, but both he and they knew that circumstances could change those in a moment, and not just on his side. It was the way the business worked. But this was different. This woman was like him in so many ways. This woman was his. How in hell was he going to let her go?

He forced control again. He'd made his decision, and he would carry out his plan. This was what Webb deserved. Webb had put major crimps into his life, and now he was going to finish doing the same, and worse, to Webb. It was justice, and justice was something he believed in, along with giving it a hand whenever it seemed as though it was taking too long to happen.

He was focused now, headed for the door and the place he'd chosen to meet Webb, to put the final touches on his scheme. His smile turned grim as he switched off the machine that generated the illusion masking the area, and it turned back into a corridor. So Webb didn't think he'd break if it was his girlfriend? Sure he would. It just took the right lever, and he had that right there in his arms, smiling in her drugged sleep. Clayton Webb was going to learn a lesson about messing with Clark Palmer.

*****

Clayton gritted his teeth as he got into the back seat of the cab and realized only after he had done so that he had slammed the door. He had to get better control over himself if he was going to deal with Palmer. "How far away is this place?"

"Mr. Webb, that is not a question I can answer." The driver gunned the engine. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes." The man was masked, of course. At least Clayton was fairly sure from the voice it wasn't Palmer himself. "You do know he has my girlfriend hostage."

"I did not know, but it is not my problem. I get my money, you get your ride."

Clayton gave up on any kind of conversation and settled back in the seat. This business of doing what Palmer said was getting to him. What the hell was Palmer going to ask, anyway? Because of his inability to find Palmer, Kate was being starved and brainwashed and tortured by Palmer, and Clayton knew that Palmer was a man who loved his work. Would Palmer give her up? Or had he already done away with her and was just toying with Clayton? Anything was possible.

He made himself think about the coming meeting. The other man was smart enough to know all about promising and then breaking the promise. He'd want something right then, and Clayton knew he'd have to give him something if he wanted to get Kate back. The funny thing was, Palmer hadn't asked for anything. So what was he expecting? Did Webb have some kind of information already that Palmer wanted? Or was this a game where Webb didn't know the rules? He was beginning to think so, and the thought was not comforting.

*****

"How are you feeling, Kate?" It was Clark's voice, and it made her smile, at least until she opened her eyes to see they were somewhere else.

"Where is this?" She managed to sound calm, but her eyes were wide and pleading.

"The place we're meeting Webb. He'll be here soon." He handed her a glass of water. "Drink it."

She took it and sipped. "You called him."

"Surprised?" His face was closed in a way she hadn't seen it. He was already gone to her. She didn't matter to him; she was just a pawn in his game. Then he smiled, and she didn't believe herself. The Clark she had gotten to know, the caring person, was still in there. Just buried. "You'll be back in your life soon, Kate. That is, if Clayton Webb is smart enough to do what I tell him."

"What do you want from him now?" She had to know.

"I'm still making up my mind. You think I should ask for a plane to Mexico, or the crown jewels? I think the jewels myself. It's more traditional, and we both know that's what Clayton's more comfortable with, tradition."

She knew he had to be joking. What he wanted had to be more personal than that. "Clark, please." She reached out her hand to him, and he took it. "Tell him not to come."

"And waste all this work? Honey, you must be out of your mind." He glanced at his watch as she blinked. Her eyes felt heavy, and her body the same, not too badly, but enough to keep her feeling like sitting was a much better idea than moving.

"You drugged me."

"A mild sedative in the water. I can't have you looking all bright and ready to escape, can I? It would disappoint Clayton so much if you didn't look wasted. He's so sure all I've done is bad for you."

There was a comfort in having him hold her hand, and she let out a sigh when he let go.

"Don't worry, Kate, soon you'll be back in Clayton's arms."

She wanted to say that she didn't want to be, but she didn't. Clark didn't want her, and Clayton probably didn't either. She had no one.

"Kate." His voice was hard, and she looked up at him, blinking. "Snap out of it. Your guy's coming to take you away from all this. Aren't you happy?"

Happy? How could he ask that? "You don't want me to want him."

He chuckled. "That's the truth. Want to make me happy? Tell him you don't when he walks in. It'll save me the trouble. Hell, I might not even need to do anything else."

"I can't hurt Clayton like that."

There was something hard in his eyes that made her wish she'd answered differently. "There are drugs I could use that would make you do what I say. And I've got them."

"Please don't." Her voice was a whisper. To be that controlled... No. It would be too much. "Please, Clark. If you ever meant any of what you said, please don't."

He shoved the gun into the front of his pants. "You got me there, baby. Fine. Then we'll get him my way. You just do what comes naturally." He chuckled again. "It'll be fine."

She thought he was going to walk away from her, but he surprised her by leaning down and giving her a long, sweet kiss.

"I'll miss you, Kate Fontaine," he whispered. "But I'll have my eye on you. Remember that."

That was something she wanted to reply to, but the drug slowed her thoughts and her voice, and they both heard the sound of a car. Clark straightened.

"He's here." His voice was hard again. "Leave the chair without permission, and I shoot one of you. Not to kill. I doubt you'd like a gun wound, baby. They're a real bitch to heal. Or did you want to see Clayton suffer? I sure would."

"I'll be good," she whispered. One last thing she could give him. "I won't mess this up for you. You need it, I know that now."

He gave her a look of approval. "So you do understand. Good girl." She could hear the steps coming up the stairs, and Clark's smile grew feral. "Your boyfriend's back," he threw at her, and fixed his bright eyes on the door.

It flew open to show Clayton in one of his immaculate suits, his face showing the strain of the past days. Kate felt her heart twist at the sight, but the sedative kept the pain bearable.

"Hi, Clayton. Nice you could come over to see us. Want a drink?" Palmer waved his hand at the bottle of scotch by the side of the bed. "I'll mix up something special for you."

Clayton ignored Palmer for the moment, letting his eyes drink in Kate. Pale, tired, and clearly drugged from the look in her eyes, but alive. Thank god. "Let her go." His voice was rough. "It's over, Palmer."

Palmer chuckled and put the glass down. "You and I have some business first, Clayton. And who says the lady's going to want to go with you?" He passed his hand over her hair, smiling just the way he had in the videos. "She and I had a great time. Didn't we, Kate?"

Kate didn't move. How could she answer that, in front of Clayton? But neither man seemed to expect her to.

Clayton's face was tight and angry. "It's just what I'd expect of you, taking advantage of a woman who can't stop you, who has a history of abuse. Damn you, Palmer."

"Didn't you pay any attention at all, or were you too busy getting yourself off?" Palmer's smile was even more razor-like. "Kate was... oh, shall we say, into it. It's what she wants, Clayton. You going to give it to her?"

"What do you want, Palmer?"

"An answer to my question, for one thing." Palmer let his hand rest on her shoulder, but kept his eyes on Clayton. There was a gun in his free hand, Clayton saw with no real surprise. "Or did you come here to see somebody die? I don't really want to kill Kate, but I guess I could, if you're not going to cooperate. Your call, Clayton. Maybe you'd rather get rid of her instead of facing the truth."

Clayton knew he had to say something. The gun was pointed at Kate's temple now, and the look in Palmer's eyes showed him the threat wasn't an idle one. "I want her alive, Palmer. And as to what she wants, it doesn't matter what you've done to her, I want her with me. And I'll do what it takes to get her well again. To get her free from what you've done to her."

"That's enough. I get the idea. Back to taking it slow, right, Clay? Some dating, a hug at the door, and a couple of kisses every so often, when it seems appropriate. And you'll probably wait until her therapist says she's cured to try to make love to her." Palmer's mocking voice showed what he thought of the idea. "Oh, you'll have a great time, baby. I can see you now. You'll be going crazy inside of a month, if not a week. But hey, it's what Clayton thinks is right, so it's fine, right? Maybe you can take up knitting or basket-weaving, anything to take your mind off the fact your guy doesn't give you what you need."

He finally lowered the gun and stowed it. Clayton managed to take a decent breath and wished he'd thought of a hiding place for his own gun, although the driver's frisking of him had been thorough enough that he didn't see how he could have gotten it inside. But he wanted it, now. Palmer had all the cards here. When the hell was he going to get around to what he wanted?

"Listen, Palmer, you're wasting my time."

"Rescuing Kate is a waste of your time?" Palmer's brows shot up. "Oh, honey, I am so sorry. Guess our friend here's in a hurry." He smiled right at Clayton, who cursed himself. He knew how Palmer twisted things, and here he'd given him a weapon. "Well, go right ahead, Clay. I can find some things to do with Kate, here. Can't I, honey?"

The hand on Kate's shoulder moved, the fingers stroking her skin in an insistent rhythm. Clayton saw Kate's eyes close and her head tilt back. She was enjoying it. What kind of drug did he have her on? It had to be that. Kate couldn't want someone like Palmer. She was a sweet person, a good person.

"I'm not going anywhere. Nothing's more important than getting Kate the hell away from you." He hoped Kate heard and believed him. There was no telling what kind of damned lies Palmer had fed her. He was going to have to be careful with her when he got her back.

Palmer's mouth had a quirk to it. "Oh, so that's the way things are." The quirk turned into a dark smile. "Now that's something to work with. I like the idea of you feeding me information, Webb. You've got some serious contacts. I'll be able to do even more than I'd hoped."

"No." He couldn't promise that. Not even for Kate.

"Then I guess there is something more important than getting Kate away from me, isn't there?" Palmer's voice was soft and amused. "Lucky for you that isn't the price I'm asking."

Then what the hell did the man want? Clayton was beginning to wonder if this wasn't a trap. No one knew he was here, and he was fairly sure Palmer had sniffed that out. Palmer might just decide to kill them both. "I want Kate back." He was going to be as direct as possible. "Tell me what your price is."

"My price for letting this gorgeous woman out of my life." Palmer sounded as though he was just now thinking about it. "Hmm. You won't turn, I don't need money, and," the look he slanted Clayton was positively evil, "you're not my type."

Clayton made sure not to show how his heart stopped at that idea. Sex with Clark Palmer? Never.

"Not my type at all," Palmer continued with a laugh. He was still stroking Kate's throat, something that made Clayton want to punch him. "You know, I do have an idea. I like a show, and it seems to me I've got all the elements for a good one."

At that, Kate lifted her head. Palmer met her gaze with his own. Clayton felt left out as some kind of message passed between them. They understood each other, and he wasn't following at all. Would she ever be free of Palmer's twisted influence? All he could do was get her away from the man, and hope.

Palmer smiled at Kate, and finally she lowered her head. "No, please," she whispered, but the sound in her voice was one of defeat.

"Come on, Kate. It'll be fun. And it's not like you have a choice." He turned to look at Clayton again, his eyes alight with glee. "But Clayton does. Well?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" He knew his control was slipping, but this situation was so damned exasperating. "A show?"

"A show. Like the ones I sent you. I'm sure you're capable of doing something that'll amuse me."

Clayton got it this time. The look in Palmer's eyes was too avid to mistake. "That's out of the question."

"Then you don't get Kate back. You might want to remember our little talk on the phone, Clayton, and what I promised you."

Kate dead. The smile on Palmer's face promised him that. And he'd be the one who had condemned her to death. But to make love to Kate in front of Palmer, that was something he never wanted to do. And Kate wasn't herself. This could be a setup, and if he went along, Palmer was sure he would do something that would alienate his Kate forever. He didn't believe for a moment the other man had just 'thought this up.' It was all part of his plan.

Palmer was watching him with intent eyes. "Maybe you just don't want Kate now that I've had her, is that it, Clayton?"

Clayton jerked his head at that. Damn Palmer for hitting too close. He was having trouble with that, and Palmer's smile showed he knew he'd scored. Clayton hoped Kate didn't get it, too.

"That's being a little harsh, I'd say. Or do you think Kate asked for it?"

"I know Kate didn't ask for it." He was beginning to wonder, though. What did she want? But this wasn't the time to go into that. It had to be what that bastard Palmer had done to her, to make her want things she wouldn't in her right mind. "And I still want her. I said that before, and I mean it."

He'd already checked out the room the best he could from his position, and he had seen what he knew were traps and sensing devices. Even the door shut in a way that told him it was set up for something, probably to blow if Palmer pushed the right button. He'd expected no less from a fellow agent, even an ex-DSD one. There was no way out, even if Kate was capable of independent action, which he wouldn't bet on. She looked a little more alert, but she had to be weak. He had to get her out of there and somewhere safe.

"Kate won't say no to you, Clay, if that's what you're worried about."

Palmer's hand was down by Kate's breast, cupping it with a possessiveness and knowledge that made Clayton sick. The other man had the upper hand, and he had nothing. He couldn't even count on Kate helping him. He wished for a brief, irrational moment he'd called Rabb. The lawyer was good in a fight, someone to count on. But Rabb would never understand making a deal with the enemy, especially this one, and that could screw it all up.

"Like she's really consenting to this. She's drugged and out of her right mind." Clayton knew his words wouldn't make a difference to Palmer, but maybe they'd reach Kate, make her realize what was going on. He had to reach her. With dismay he saw her stiffen and close her eyes. Damn. How had that hurt her?

Palmer saw, too, and enjoyed it if his smile meant anything. "Oh, Clayton, you've hurt Kate's feelings." His hand moved up to her shoulder again, and Clayton saw with amazement that she leaned toward the other man. "It's all right, baby. He'll say he's sorry, I promise. And he'll make it up to you."

There was something about Palmer's voice that actually sounded as though he gave a damn. He hoped Kate didn't believe that. She'd be wrong. Clark Palmer didn't give a damn about anyone but Clark Palmer.

Palmer's words got Kate to open her eyes again, Clayton saw. God, he had her brainwashed. She did believe him. "Clayton, please. Go away." She was struggling to talk. "It's not safe."

"You going to listen to the lady, Clay?" Palmer's eyes were even brighter. He leaned over, keeping Clayton in sight, and deliberately kissed the top of her head. "She wants to stay here, with me. Guess we don't have anything to talk about, after all."

Like hell she was staying. And like hell he was going anywhere without her. Her halting words were the last straw. Kate still cared about him, she needed help, and he was going to make sure she got it. "Where did you want this show, Palmer?"

"Oh, so now you're ready. The thought of performing got you hot, Clay?"

Palmer's taunting didn't reach Clayton. He was focused on one thing and one thing only, saving Kate. "Haven't you done enough to her, Palmer?"

"I can think of a few more things. What about you, Clay? Isn't there anything you'd like to do with this sweet, willing girl?"

Yes. But not until she was better, and not with Clark Palmer's mocking eyes on them. But that he couldn't change. "Yes."

"I told you he wanted you, Kate." Palmer backed up. "Get on the bed, baby. Webb will take it from there. Unless you need some help, Clayton," he added, his eyes bright with malice. "Just let me know."

"You wanted this, now shut up."

Palmer laughed. "You must think you're good. I'll watch," he paused, "and learn."

His mocking voice said clearly that he didn't think he would, but Clayton shut that out. He had to concentrate on Kate, on being gentle and loving and good, on showing her what she really wanted. He was surprised that Palmer let him get over as far as Kate's chair, where she was still sitting. Her eyes were full of anguish. At least she was paying attention.

"Clayton, please," she begged. "Don't do this."

"Kate." Palmer's voice was cool. "I thought you understood how this worked. Do what I tell you."

There it was, the trap. Clayton cursed himself. Palmer was going to make sure Kate wasn't going to make love with him because she wanted to, but because she was obeying orders. Palmer's orders.

"Would you just shut up, Palmer?" Maybe he could turn this around. But only if Palmer stayed the hell out of it.

"Oh, I am so sorry." Palmer didn't sound it. "Am I cramping your style, Clay? Just forget I'm here." He positioned himself against a wall, but near the large bed. "Forget all about me."

She gave him a despairing glance, then her eyes went over to Palmer, who, surprisingly, wasn't smiling. The look on his face was cool and intent, and she closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, hers were resigned.

"All right."

She stood, giving Palmer another quick look. When he didn't move, she swallowed and followed Clayton to the bed. She sat down on the comforter and looked up at Clayton. The pain in her eyes made his heart ache. How was he going to show her he still loved her? Because that had to be it. Palmer had fed her lies upon lies, making her believe he didn't. And how could she know it was wrong? He'd had all the weapons on his side, controlled her reality. It was time for that to change.

He sat down next to her and let his hand stroke her hair. "Kate, I love you. Let me show you just how much." He thought he heard her sigh as he moved his hand down to her back. "I want you so much, and I've wanted you for so long."

He eased his arm around her, and she leaned against him. Good. He cupped her cheek with his other hand, and bent down to kiss her, long and slow and gentle. He didn't try to open her lips, teasing them instead with soft passes of his tongue, and his patience was rewarded. She finally darted her tongue out to meet his. Only then did he deepen the kiss.

Clark Palmer watched from his position with growing disdain. Oh, so sweet and loving and wrong. Kate was a passionate woman, not some kind of china doll. Webb might have enough knowledge to make her come, physically, but he would never understand that she needed more than just tenderness.

He found himself trembling, and forced control. This was exactly what was supposed to be happening. The plan was working. Clayton Webb was getting a small victory now, one that would turn into bitter defeat in the end. But his heart didn't care. It wanted to tear Clayton Webb away from Kate and throw him out. His heart wanted Kate Fontaine. Well, damn that. His heart hadn't been running his life up to now, and it would survive this.

Now Clayton had pressed Kate down on the bed and was working his fingers under her skirt. "You're so beautiful," he murmured. "Oh, Kate, I want you. I want you so much."

Kate kissed him back. It felt good, but it also felt strange. She wasn't really there. Her body was, and she could feel how it liked this, how it warmed and softened and got wet, but there was a part of her that was watching, commenting, and critiquing. That had never happened with Clark. She wished he'd found another way to get his revenge on Clayton. But he wanted this, so she tried to get herself more into it. She didn't want to hurt Clayton. She'd tried to warn him, tried to get him to leave, but he wanted to rescue her. And maybe she did need it. Maybe she needed help to get better. How could she believe that a man like Clark Palmer could know best?

Clayton broke the kiss and flicked his eyes over. Palmer was still watching, with a face as cold and hard as ice. At least he was quiet. "Kate, please. Now."

She knew what he meant. "Yes." She was beginning to lose herself in the passion. That detached part of her was quieting. "Yes, Clay. Take me now."

"I love you," he whispered.

Something struck the bed beside him. He reached for it and saw that it was a condom. Palmer's mocking eyes met his.

"Humor me. I bought some, no need for them to go to waste."

Clayton was startled. Palmer hadn't done this with Kate? True, there hadn't been a tape of the two of them having intercourse, but he'd assumed the other man had. But this was Clark Palmer, a sociopathic liar, and not to be trusted. He put the thought aside and stood. It didn't matter now, and he'd get Kate to tell him everything when they were out of there. He was going to get her out of there.

Kate opened her eyes to watch Clayton take off his clothes. Her eyes grew wide when his erection sprung out. She moaned and opened her legs, offering herself to him. He reached down and eased off her underpants.

"Now, please, Clay." She didn't want to wait any longer.

"Yes, now." He wondered if he was doing the right thing. Maybe he should go down on her, make her come that way first. But Palmer had done that. He didn't want to do anything Palmer had done. And he wanted to be inside her, and she was begging him for it. He rolled on the condom and poised himself over her, his head pressing against her wet lips.

Clayton took her slowly, gently at first, then settled into a gentle rhythm that wouldn't make him come too soon. He wanted this to last long enough for Kate. He watched her as he stroked. She was moving with him, but no matter what he did, she didn't seem to be reaching orgasm. He frowned. Damn it. How could she relax, with Palmer right there? This was a setup.

Kate was panting. She needed this so much, wanted it even more, and she just couldn't get there. She thought about reaching down and stroking herself, but that might hurt Clay, who was trying so hard. Maybe just a little more.

Palmer couldn't watch any more. Damn Webb. He couldn't even be bothered to get her off, and she was so damned close. Well, he knew how to make her come. "Come on, Kate." His voice was harsh. "Katie." She bucked at that. "You want it. I know you do. Little bitch."

Clayton wanted to tell him to shut up, but he was too close to coming himself to talk. He tried to block out the other man's words.

"Come, Kate. Come."

She trembled, then moaned. The sound of Palmer's voice and the words were just enough to get her there. She rode out her orgasm, and Clayton's right after.

"Nice," Palmer said dryly as soon as she quieted. His gun was out again. "Get up, Webb. Show's over."

Clayton managed to pull himself out of Kate, who was limp and shaking under him. His eyes were wary. "Why that?"

"I can't trust you." Palmer's voice was still dry. "Get dressed, then go downstairs. Miss Fontaine and I have a little more business."

"You gave your word."

"I'll keep it. Go."

Clayton did up his zipper, then worked his feet back into his shoes. He put his suitcoat over his arm, then kissed Kate on the forehead. She still hadn't opened her eyes. "I love you," he whispered again, but she didn't answer. He threw Palmer an icy look, then strode over to the door. He hesitated before opening it. Was this the real trap?

"It's safe, Webb." There was a weariness in Palmer's voice that disturbed Clayton. He didn't get what was going on here any more. "Go wait for the cab. He's circling the block. He'll be there in a minute or two. Or hail another one. Your call."

Clayton decided it was best to go along for the moment. He'd give Palmer five minutes, then come back up, and in those five minutes, scout the building. Palmer was not getting out of there with Kate.

When the door shut behind Clayton, Kate opened her eyes to see Clark leaning over her. "Like that, Kate?" His voice was a soft purr. "Better memorize my voice and play it in your head next time he makes love to you, because you and I both know that's what got you off."

She shuddered and reached out to him. "Clark, please. Please take me." She wasn't finished yet. She knew she could come more, and she wanted it to be with him.

His mouth was twisted in a cruel smile. "Tell me first you don't want him. Tell me he didn't make you come. Tell me, even if you won't tell him."

"You made me come. I want you."

"Close enough," he breathed and jerked down his zipper. He ripped open a condom packet and rolled it down over his cock. "I know how to make you come. He doesn't. He never will. You're mine, Kate Fontaine." He thrust into her and smiled to hear her cry out. "Remember that, Kate. And remember this." He stopped, despite her moans. "I don't play fair. And this isn't over. I'm not finished with you. You go with Clayton Webb. You see what he does. And when you're not paying attention," he jammed himself into her as she convulsed around him, "I'll be there. If you're lucky, and very good, I'll show up in your bed some night. Think about that when Clayton's sliding into you, making love to you. Think about me."

"Yes." She was coming, coming with him. "Yes."

He thrust into her a last time as he came, then pulled out. She stared at him with dazed eyes. "Come on, Kate." His voice was neutral. "Time to go." He helped her get dressed. "Take this, too. Your other things are back home. Hope you don't mind."

"No. That's fine." It wasn't like she could do anything about it now, and he knew it. She looked at the bag he pushed into her hand. "Books?"

"You didn't finish them, and I bought them for you. You might want them." He smiled at her. "It'll drive Webb crazy, trying to find out what I've hidden in them. Nothing, but don't try to tell him. He won't believe you."

She felt like crying. She'd just been part of a sex show, then been taken with a fierce, hard knowledge, and now she was being made to leave this man who understood her. Who'd kidnapped her. Who looked like he was holding on to himself with all he had, just like she was. Was this that hostage syndrome she'd heard about? She didn't know. All she knew was that she didn't want to leave, and she had to. "Be careful, Clark," she whispered and leaned up to kiss him. "Be very, very careful."

He gave her an odd smile. "Oh, I will, honey. You watch yourself. Clayton's going to want to drag you right to a therapist, who'll report everything right back to him. You tell him, or her, too much, you'll be in big trouble. Me, too, come to think of it."

"I won't tell anyone anything. I promise."

He stared at her, then shrugged. "Do what you have to do. I always have." He kissed her quick and hard, then pulled away. "Now go. Go," he repeated when she didn't move. He frowned. "Get out of here. Damn it, Kate, do you have to torture me like this?"

Did he mean that? She didn't know. But she had to leave. "Goodbye." She gave him one last look, then pushed herself to walk away. The door closed behind her, and she was alone. She started down the stairs to find Clayton at the outside door.

"Come on, Kate. Hurry." She let him put her into the cab and take the bag from her. "Books? Now why the hell did he give you these? I'll take them in."

She closed her eyes. She wanted to sleep. "Go," she heard Clayton say. "I gave you the address."

"Right away, Mister. The lady's sleeping?"

"She will be, if you keep it down."

That was the last thing she heard for a long time.

*****

The next day she was listening to Clayton and a man who had been introduced to her as Commander Harmon Rabb argue. They were in the commander's apartment, which was more like one huge room. It was nice, though. She'd like to live in a place with that much light.

"Clay, you have to bring in the CIA. You and I can't handle this by ourselves. It's Clark Palmer, for god's sake."

Harmon Rabb glanced at her, then away. She knew she was making him nervous. Clayton had already stopped him from asking her any questions. She'd only agreed to come if he promised her that.

"I can't do that." Clayton's voice was harsh. This was a side of him she hadn't seen before, and a more interesting one. "I told you, Palmer's got tapes of him and Kate. Do you think I want anyone seeing them? Or Kate does? And how the hell do you think they're going to take the fact that I cut a deal with him? They'll decide I'm really on Palmer's side, or at the least, that I can't be trusted any more."

"So Palmer set you up. Why didn't you shoot him?"

"He had a gun on Kate, and I didn't have one at all. God, Rabb, get the rocks out of your head!"

Kate stirred in her chair, and both men looked over at her. She returned the looks gravely. Harm frowned. "Listen, Miss Fontaine, you have to tell us. What did Palmer say about this?" He shook off Webb's growl. "Clay, we have to know what he's up to."

"Leave Kate alone!" Clayton's voice was full of anger and frustration. She hadn't talked to him, either, and she knew it was driving him crazy. "Don't you understand what she's been through?"

"It's all right, Clayton. I'll answer." She turned her face toward Rabb. "I don't know what he's going to do, Commander. He said he wanted to get back at Clayton, and I was the way he was going to do that." That was all she was going to tell him, or anyone. The rest was her business.

"He's insane." Rabb's voice was harsh, too. "Nothing else? Is he coming after me?"

"He didn't say anything about that." She thought about telling what Clark had said about him and all he knew about what to do with a gun, but decided against it. He didn't look as though he'd appreciate it, and it was private.

"He has to be," Rabb muttered. "I wish he'd just get it over with."

"You don't want him coming after you, Harm! Believe me, you don't."

"I beat him before. I'll beat him again."

"You hope."

Something occurred to Kate. "Has he been here?" The way Rabb talked about Clark, it sounded like they had a lot of history. And she knew he had a taste for getting into other people's homes.

"You didn't tell her?"

"No." Clayton sounded like he didn't want to hear about it now, either. "Go ahead."

Rabb smiled grimly at Kate. "Oh, he's been here. He kidnapped my then-girlfriend and tried to trick me into shooting her with the help of some mirrors. And before that, he got in here to set up a 'romantic evening' for her, made me think he was going to kill her if I didn't give him something." He darted a look at Clayton. "What did he want from you?"

"It's personal." Clayton's face and voice were tight. "Let it go, Rabb."

Kate knew then that Clayton had some idea of what Clark had wanted to do. He knew Clark was trying to make a long-lasting change in her, and therefore in his life. Her heart ached. She couldn't want to be anything but what she was, and she didn't want Clayton to be hurt. What was she going to do? She couldn't help them find Clark, even if she wanted to. She had no idea where she'd been held. The place where Clark had let her go had already been raided, and nothing found.

Clark Palmer was gone, and she might never see him again. He'd said she would, but out here in the real world, it didn't seem at all likely. He wasn't going to risk his safety just to have some fun with her. And the Clark Palmer they described would have put her behind him with an absoluteness she couldn't even imagine. No. She had to deal with her own life. She didn't know how to do that right now, but she'd figure it out, with or without Clayton, although Clayton was acting as though there was no question of her doing so without him. It was both comforting and exasperating.

Clayton hadn't let her go to her place last night, insisting she stay with him. But he hadn't come to bed with her, although she'd asked him. She wanted to find out if making love with him away from Clark's presence was better for her, but he didn't seem to know what she was getting at, and she dropped it. In the morning, she'd found him dozing on a chair in the living room, a gun in his hand. She knew then it was going to be a long time before he was free of Clark Palmer's shadow, and wished he could see that he didn't have to be, wished there was a way she could set him free. Set them both free. This hatred bound them to each other, she could see that now.

She sighed and combed her fingers through her hair and looked at Clayton. He gave her a quick smile, and she smiled back.

"All right." Rabb looked like he wanted to ask more, but didn't, and Kate was glad of that. "Listen, there's probably one thing we can count on."

"I would really like to hear that."

"Palmer has a pattern. If we think he's through, he isn't. But it won't be you he targets. He'll pick someone else close to you, somewhere we're not looking. Like your mother. Is she protected?"

"Yes. I increased security on her last night. I can trust Markov. He's one of us."

"CIA, you mean." Harm's voice was wry. "I thought so."

Clayton was smiling, in a way that made Kate smile too. She knew how much he loved his mother. "You're learning, Rabb. Maybe I should recruit you into the Company."

"I'm a lawyer and a pilot, not a spook," Rabb retorted, and they both laughed. Kate could tell they had a shared history, and one they were both coming to terms with. "Miss Fontaine," he turned his attention back to her, "anything you can tell us about Clark Palmer will help. Please."

"No." Her refusal was flat. Tell this man how she'd come with Clark? Tell him her secrets? He'd never understand. She might tell Clayton, but that would be when she wanted to, not now. She wasn't ready.

Rabb stared at her with narrowed eyes. "I wonder just how much you want Clark Palmer caught," he said so softly that it was a moment before Clayton heard him. When he did, he grabbed Rabb by the collar.

"You have no idea what she wants, Rabb. And don't ever say anything like that again. She's been through a hell you can't even imagine." He shoved the taller man back against the counter as he released him, then turned to Kate and took her hand. "You have to understand he's obsessed with Palmer. He's been through a lot with him."

Kate only nodded. She wasn't going to tell Clayton or Harmon Rabb, but he was right. She didn't want Clark caught.

Rabb was standing again, having straightened his shirt. "All right, Clay, I get the message. I'm sorry, Miss Fontaine. I didn't mean to insult you."

"I accept your apology." Her voice was toneless. "Clayton, can we go now?"

Clayton glanced at Rabb, then sighed. "Kate, I know you don't want to deal with this, but if we can catch Palmer, you'll be safe."

"I'm safe now. Or, to look at it another way, I'll never be safe again. From the way you both talk about him, he could be anywhere, doing anything, strike at any time. I can't worry about that! I have to get back to my life."

Her passion shocked both men. Clayton recovered first. "All right, Kate. I understand. Rabb, thanks for your help. And watch out. He just might decide to come after you."

"I'll be ready for him."

The smile on Harmon Rabb's face was very like some of the ones she'd seen on Palmer's, Kate realized, and shivered. She hoped Clark would stay far away from this man. She stood.

"It was nice meeting you, Commander." She wanted to be polite, but she wanted to go home. And she meant her home, not Clayton's. But that argument could wait until later.

"And you, Miss Fontaine." Rabb shook her hand. "Next time I hope it's a more pleasant meeting."

She smiled back. If she had her way, there wouldn't be any more meetings. But she wasn't going to tell him that. He was talking to Clayton again.

"Sorry I can't do more."

"There's nothing to do." Clayton's smile was faint. "Just wait. You know he won't stay hidden forever."

"No. That's not his style. But I hate waiting."

"It's part of the job, Rabb. Just take care."

"You too." The two men shook hands, then Clayton came over to Kate, and they left.

*****

It took a lot longer than she liked to get Clayton to agree that it was time for her to go back to her life, but after another day she was back in her apartment, although Clayton did insist on spending most of the time with her, and set to go back to work the next morning. She was looking forward to doing some real work, having something more to think about than Clark and if he was safe. She had to stop that. It didn't make Clayton any happier when he found out that her boss had received a note from a doctor certifying her illness, but she did manage to convince him that it wouldn't hurt to use it. He was adamant no one else know what had really happened, except her therapist and the psychiatrist he was trying to convince her to see. She didn't want to go to the psychiatrist.

"Cheryl knows me. This person won't."

Clayton had his stubborn face on. "Kate, Dr. Samuels is one of the best around. He's worked with survivors of sibling abuse, hostages..."

"And the CIA. Right?"

"Yes. And the CIA. But he's not going to tell me anything about your sessions. That's covered under doctor-patient confidentiality. You know that."

"I don't believe it."

Clayton was beginning to wish he had just brought her to the doctor and let him deal with this. Kate seemed fine, but she wouldn't talk to him, and he worried that she still believed whatever insane lies Palmer had told her. She had to get help. Why didn't she see that?

"Just go talk to him. If you don't like him, you don't have to go back." Dr. Samuels had promised to pass on information, but only facts about Palmer's methods and plans. It was the standard arrangement, but Kate didn't need to know that.

"Clayton, stop this. I'm going to see Cheryl tomorrow. I already made the appointment. And I'm fine." She gave him a long look and saw that he didn't believe her. "You know, Clark didn't say anything bad about you. We talked more about me." She didn't want to tell him even that much, but he was so clearly worrying about it.

The look he gave her was sharp. "And what did he tell you? That you needed to go out and find another guy? Someone like him, who'd use you and play with your mind?"

Kate swallowed. This had turned ugly quickly. "I don't want to talk about it."

"And that's what I'm worried about." He was back under control. "You're not talking about this, and you need to. You have to get the poison of Clark Palmer out of your system, Kate, and Dr. Samuels can help you do that. He's made time to see you every day. That's got to be better than once a week."

She just shook her head, and he made a harsh noise of protest.

"What did he tell you? Damn it, Kate, I have a right to know! I love you, I want you to be my wife, and I don't know what you think of me any more! I don't know what Palmer's got you thinking!" After a moment of silence, he blew out a breath. "I shouldn't yell at you." He came over to sit on the couch next to her, taking her hand in his. "But I do love you, and I want you to be all right."

"Clayton, I need to talk to Cheryl. But I'll ask her what she thinks about me seeing a psychiatrist. If she thinks it's a good idea, I'll see someone. Probably your Dr. Samuels," she added before he could insist. He'd said he loved her, wanted her to be his wife. A part of her wanted to say yes, see if being his would fill the emptiness in her. Clark had been so much, so right. But another part of her insisted it was time to wait, not jump. "You want me to tell you everything, but it's just too hard right now." The easy way out. But it was better than hurting him any more. "Can you understand that? But I'll try."

He was nodding. Finally, something. She was trusting him again. Maybe Palmer hadn't been able to touch her heart and turn her against him. He knew she still cared, and the knowledge eased his heart. "I understand. I don't want to push you into anything, Kate, and I won't."

"I know he sent you tapes." She faltered, not knowing how to talk about that. "I'm sorry you had to see that." Ask me why I liked it, she thought. Help me talk to you about it. Maybe, if you really love me, you can learn enough.

"I couldn't believe how he tortured you, Kate." He hesitated, then leaned over to kiss her cheek. "I am so sorry I let this happen," he whispered. "God, Kate, I deserve Palmer's rage, not you. It's a miracle you're safe."

She let him kiss her again, but she was cold inside. Torture. Some of the most intense, incredible orgasms of her life, and that's how he thought of them. But, she reminded herself, there were times he hadn't seen.

"It wasn't torture." She had to try. "I liked it." She'd said it.

"He made you like it. He knew about your brother." His face was tight again. "He is such a miserable bastard. How he could take and twist you into knots like that, make you beg... I can't believe any human could be that cruel. Kate, I'll never do that to you. Never. And I'll be here, waiting until you feel safe again. I hated doing what he wanted, but I couldn't see any other way out of there. You do understand?"

She nodded again. "You did what you had to do." She was amazed at how steady her voice was. "It's getting late."

"You're right." He smiled at her. His Kate was back. Maybe it was just a matter of time and some work, maybe Palmer hadn't done what he wanted with her. She was strong, and smart enough to understand, and recover. He kissed her again, this time very soft on the lips, then stood. "You take it easy at work tomorrow."

"I will."

She saw him out, then locked the door and sank back down on the couch. It was all very clear to her now. Clayton didn't accept that she liked the kind of rough sex Clark had given her. He wouldn't accept it. He wouldn't accept her. Oh, Clark was so right. She wrapped her arms around herself. She couldn't stay with Clayton, but she couldn't leave and hurt him now.

It took a while for her to stop rocking, but she finally did. After splashing some cold water on her face, she headed for the kitchen for a snack, but on the way spotted her computer. She could check her messages. It really wasn't that late, only eight-thirty. There might be something interesting.

There were a few old messages she hadn't read, in response to Clark's ones, which she checked out as well. She marveled at how perfectly he had her style down. She suspected Clayton had read them, too, but she could live with that.

Her computer beeped at her with an incoming message. She didn't recognize the sender, a Mark Draper, but there were no attachments, so she opened it. Probably some kind of spam, but it might be interesting.

*He just can't see you, Kate. Torture, huh? It's torture not getting what you want. I know what that's like. Don't work too hard, and take yourself out for lunch. Tell your therapist anything. I won't intrude. You deserve the privacy. Remember to eat. I stocked your fridge with that ham you liked.*

It wasn't signed, but it was Clark, and he had a bug in her apartment. How else could he know what Clayton had just said, or that she was going to see Cheryl? She stood, intending to go and see what he'd bought, then sat down and hit the reply button. It was worth a try.

*He doesn't. But he's all I've got. Why did you have to do this to me? I'm in hell, and it's so cold.*

She sent it without anything else, then made herself shut down the computer. He probably wouldn't get it right away, and she was tired. She'd check in the morning.

*****

Clark Palmer read Kate's message and frowned. In hell. He didn't want her to be hurt, just Webb. But she was, and he couldn't do anything about it, couldn't go near her. He knew that Webb would be watching for that.

Webb wouldn't be around to watch forever, though. The information he'd gotten earlier confirmed that all was going according to plan on that front. Webb was a Company man. He'd go. Then maybe he could figure out what to do about Kate. He shouldn't care, he knew that much, but he did. He couldn't stop thinking of her, dreaming of her. There had to be a way to see her. He was a master of disguise, he'd find one that would work.

He went to reply, then stopped himself. No. It wasn't fair. She had to think she was on her own. It was stupid to have sent her the message in the first place. He only had because he knew she wouldn't tell Webb about it. But push it, and she might.

He shut down the laptop. No more 'Mark Draper.' He'd have to lose that identity. Damn, he knew better than to take risks. What the hell was happening to him? And what was he going to do about it?

*****

"Kate, I..." Her therapist's voice trailed off. "What will you do?"

Kate blew out a breath. She hadn't even been able to tell Cheryl the whole story, but she'd been able to get out more of it than she'd thought she would. "Clayton wants me to go to this psychiatrist."

"I don't think you need a psychiatrist. You need to talk, that's clear, but you're coping. You don't need drugs." The woman's face was creased with a frown, but cleared. "But if you want to change therapists, I'll understand."

"No. I know you wouldn't tell anyone."

"But you say he got into my records?"

"He's very good." Her smile was wistful. "I don't think he'll bother again."

She couldn't tell anyone about Clark's message, she knew that much. When he hadn't sent anything back, she'd realized she had to protect herself, and deleted both the message and her reply, but only after printing them both out and hiding them. She hoped that would be enough.

"It would help if you would talk more about how this kidnapping made you feel."

Kate knew what Cheryl meant. She had given her details, some, but not many feelings. She shook her head. "Not today, Cheryl. It's too hard. And it's time to go." She stood. "Next week, then."

Cheryl stood too, her six and a half foot frame dwarfing Kate's smaller one. She opened her arms. "Next week."

Kate went into them, taking comfort from the hug. Cheryl was a good person. She was glad she hadn't given into Clayton's pressure.

*****

Life settled back into a routine of work, home, and Clayton. He came over every night and either took her out to dinner or brought takeout. He didn't stay past nine, but he was there, and she found herself taking comfort from it. Life was beginning to look better. Work was going well, and she'd put Clark out of her mind for the most part. She kept her thoughts of him for her talks with Cheryl, and sometimes for a few frenzied minutes in bed by herself, but that was it. She had to get out of that hell, had to survive.

She smiled as she looked over at Clayton rinsing out the styrofoam containers from their dinner. "I thought you were so busy and important, and you take the time to do kitchen work?"

Clayton turned and smiled back at her. "I leave work at work." Just then his cell phone beeped, and he grimaced. "At least I try to. Damn. Excuse me." He pulled the phone out of his pocket. "Webb here."

Kate moved over to the sink and stacked the containers so that they'd dry out before they went into the recycling bin, then turned on the spray to rinse out the sink. She didn't try to listen, but she didn't try not to listen, either.

"Damn!" Clayton's voice had been steadily escalating, and now it was so loud it made her wince. "He is playing with us. But we've got enough to get him now." There was something triumphant about his voice, something she didn't like. "I'll leave tonight. Thanks."

He kept the phone in his hand as he turned to face Kate. She'd shut off the water, and was leaning on the edge of the sink instead. She had a bad feeling about this.

"We got a lead on Palmer. He's in England, of all places, planning one of his deals. I'm going to bring him in. You won't have to worry about him any longer. And it's a Company operation, don't worry. Listen, I'm sorry, but I've got to go. I'll call you." He kissed her lips quick and hard, then went to the door.

"Be careful," she said quietly. Something about this worried her.

"I'm going to get him." His eyes were bright and hard. "But, yes, I'll be careful. I'm coming home to you." He smiled and kissed her again. "See you soon."

She smiled back and closed the door behind him, then hurried over to her computer and booted it up, then fished out the copies of the messages from Clark. She had to warn him. That was all she could think about. He had to get this message, he had to.

She stopped before she opened the message program. She couldn't betray Clayton. What if Clark got the message and decided to lay in wait for him? But what if Clayton caught Clark, even killed him? She gnawed on her lower lip as she thought. It took her some minutes to decide what to do. She'd send Clark a message and beg him not to hurt Clayton. She'd promise anything. If the look in his eyes when he made her leave had any truth in it at all, he wanted more from her. And she'd give it to him with both hands, both for Clayton's sake and her own.

She didn't get the chance. When she got into the messages, there was one waiting for her, from Mark Draper. Her heart was pounding as she opened it.

*I knew he'd fall for it. He wants to catch me so much, it's pathetic, but in an endearing kind of way. Nice to feel somebody wants me, even if it's in jail. Lunch tomorrow? Or would dinner be better? Dinner, I think, then we've got the whole evening to catch up. It's been too long. Details later. And Kate, don't try and tell him. He'll never believe you, and he's so happy now. It'd be a shame to take that away from him. Love to you.*

It was a setup. Clayton was going to go over to London and find... nothing. She should tell him. But she knew she wouldn't. She couldn't. She had no way to reach Clayton.

She sent Clark back a single word in reply, 'yes', printed out the message and deleted it, then shut down the computer and hid all the message printouts. Clark was coming back to her, and she couldn't care why. *Love to you,* he'd written, and she believed he meant it. Maybe there was a way to keep her sanity. Maybe Clark would help her find that way. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn't alone and crazy after all.

*****

Clayton smiled to himself as he waited to board the airplane. Clark Palmer, back in jail. And this time there wouldn't be any chance of him getting out. He'd spend the rest of his career making sure of that.

It had been a stroke of luck that had gotten them on Palmer's trail. An agent working another case had routinely trailed and taken pictures of all the people in contact with his subject, and one of those was Palmer, in disguise. But not a good enough one. That was all the Company needed.

He'd get Palmer without having to betray Kate, and without having to disclose his part in getting her back. If Palmer was desperate enough to bring that up, he'd deny it. And the Company would back him, not Palmer.

He let himself dream once he'd taken his seat. Maybe Palmer would get shot. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility. How wonderful it would be to go back to Kate and be able to tell her Palmer was dead. That would have to speed up the process of healing. He could propose to her. If she wanted, they could even have a June wedding.

He started going over the plan one more time. Everything had to be just right. Palmer was not going to get away from him. Palmer was not going to win this time.

*****

Kate thought about calling in sick to work, but there were things she needed to do. It would take up the time until Clark picked her up. If that's what he was going to do. She had no idea how she'd meet him. And was it really safe for him to come to D.C.? She hoped so.

She checked her e-mail every half-hour, making herself wait that long with a serious effort, until she finally got a message. She didn't recognize the sender, but the content made it clear it was Clark.

*Leave at 6. I'll meet you outside.*

And that was all. She clicked the window with the message shut and went back to the report she was reading. It was only twelve-thirty, and wishing for him wouldn't bring him there any sooner.

*****

At five to six, she couldn't wait any longer. She shrugged into her coat and slipped her pocketbook over her shoulder, then the bag with a change of clothes, just in case they ended up going somewhere other than her apartment. She had work in the morning, and she certainly didn't know what he had planned. Maybe he didn't even want to spend the night with her. Maybe he was just like Clayton said: someone who liked pulling people's strings.

The elevator doors pinged and opened, but she didn't move, and they closed. This was wrong. This would hurt Clayton. This would hurt her. But she wanted Clark, needed to see him, needed to know if her fragile thoughts of a future with him had any basis in reality at all.

She took a deep breath and pushed the button again. She was going to go through with this. She could handle it. She wasn't the damaged person that Clayton thought she was, nor the person who needed rough sex that Clark saw, not totally. She was Kate, and as Kate, she would find the way she needed. Somehow. With the help of the men who seemed to be part of her life, or without it.

*****

She got to the parking lot and stood there. Should she go to her car? Should she wait? Was this just a cruel trick on Clark's part?

"Took you long enough, baby," she heard the drawl and spun around to see him leaning against her car. His face was relaxed, and he was smiling and holding out his hand to her. "Come here."

She didn't move. "What do you want from me?"

At that, his smile went from happy to mocking. "What do you think I want, Kate? Everything I've been getting."

"No." She knew it was insane to resist him, but this had to be equal.

"No? That's a new one."

She was trembling, but didn't move except to shake her head, telling him no again.

His eyes narrowed. "I think it's time *I* asked what *you* want from me," he said softly. "Nobody made you show up, Kate. So why did you?"

"I don't know." And that was the truth.

"Well." He looked away, then back at her. "Sorry to have bothered you."

"Don't go." She knew that was what he was going to do. "I..." She swallowed. "I want to be with you." She couldn't say more than that and still be fair to Clayton. "But I'm not your captive. Is that clear?"

The look in his eyes was puzzled. "Very clear. I asked you out. Is that clear to you?"

This was a surreal conversation. "Yes."

"So are we going out to dinner, or not?"

"Where?"

"I thought the Italia. It's quiet." He didn't move, and she realized that he was staying put out of respect for her. She liked that. It felt right. "That all right with you?"

"And then what?"

"I thought back to my hotel room, but that would be up to you now, Kate." There was a very strange look in his eyes. "You've changed. I like it."

She didn't know how to answer that. "The Italia's fine." It was somewhere she'd go for a dinner alone, and she was sure he knew that.

She made herself take a step toward him. For a moment she could only think about what Clayton would think, and then he was gone, and all she knew was that she was doing what she wanted to do, what she had decided, what was right for her.

He watched, not moving until she was within arms' length. Then he raised his hand and touched her outstretched one. "I'm glad that you're all right. Your message worried me."

"I was worried about you, too." There was that something in his eyes again, that something that made her feel as though she could trust him. She hoped she was reading him right.

He blew out a long breath. "Let's go."

"Is it safe for you to be here?" His eyes were darting around almost constantly, even though no one had come near them.

"No." He wasn't looking at her. "Not really."

"Then we're going somewhere that is safe."

"The only safe place is where I had you before." His voice was bitter. "And I'm not taking you there."

"Not even your hotel room is safe?"

"This is Washington, Kate."

"Then we're leaving Washington." She went past him and opened the driver's side door. "Tell me where it is safe. We'll go there." It was all clear to her. Somehow everything had gotten very clear, very definite, very certain. And she wasn't going to let that slip away.

"It's safe enough," he protested and didn't move. "Come on, Kate, I can handle it."

"What if I don't want you to handle it? What if I'm not interested in spending the evening with you watching all the time, taking your attention away from me?"

"Well. This is a change. All right." He took a deep breath. "I'm not willing to spend hours in a car to get somewhere safe. You willing to go back there?"

She knew he meant the place he'd kept her captive. "Yes. Which way?"

"First, I'd say it would make sense to start the car?" His voice was teasing, and it made her smile. "I'll give you directions. It's not that far."

She turned the key in the ignition. All right. They were going to talk, they were going to be together, and something was going to happen. Something was going to be settled, things were going to change. She was almost even sure what.

*****

She stopped for subs on the way, taking Clark's request for an Italian with a smile, and getting herself a turkey and cheese. He was right. It wasn't that far. And when she got there, she couldn't believe it.

"This is where you had me?" She turned to him. "This isn't a warehouse."

"I never said it was," he said mildly. "Can we go in now?"

It was deserted, but she nodded and followed him to the plain door. It was just a small building, nothing special on the outside, nor on the inside. They went down a short corridor, then he opened another door and she was back in the place she knew so well. She blinked.

"If you move in a little more, I could get this closed." She glanced at him and realized that even here, he was on edge, and took a couple of steps into the room. He immediately shut the door and started on the locks.

"Want some water to go along with the food?"

"Fine." He was still frowning at the door, and she left him to check over whatever he needed to and went into the kitchen.

He came in after a few minutes. "All right, we should be safe." He sat down at the table and reached for the glass of water she had out for him.

"Clark, why did you come back?" She couldn't wait any longer. He had to have a reason, more than just wanting a date with her. She knew that much about him.

He didn't look at her. "To ask you to come away with me."

She blinked. "What?"

"Stupid, isn't it?" His laugh was harsh. "The woman you are now doesn't need me. You're more than capable of finding what you need on your own. Stupid," he muttered. "But I couldn't resist."

She pushed away the sub. Food was the last thing on her mind. "Away with you," she said slowly. "And what kind of life would that mean?"

He gave her a long look. "Why the hell are you doing this to me, Kate? We both know there's no way in hell you'll come with me."

Her temper flared. "You don't get to come here and act like a whipped dog, Clark! If you want to ask me something, ask me, but don't act like you know me better than I know myself!"

"All right." His face showed no emotion, but she could tell that he was faking that to protect himself. "I made a fucking mistake with you, Kate Fontaine. I fell in love. I almost didn't carry out my plan because of you, and now I'm back where too many people know who I am and have some damned good ideas what they want to do with me, because of you. I want you to come away with me," he took a deep breath, "and marry me."

Kate blinked. She'd wanted to hear this, but now what?

He was speaking again. "If you do come with me," his face now showed how serious he was, "you vanish. Just like I have." His smile was faint, but the sight of it reassured Kate. "I bought a house. A couple of rooms need new paper and paint."

There was a note of offering, almost pleading, in his voice, and Kate remembered when he'd told her about everyone turning away from him, how hurt he'd been, and how hard he'd tried to hide that hurt from her. She didn't want to be another one on that list, and she knew now that she loved him.

"When do we leave?"

It took him a moment to get it, and even then his only reaction was to stare at her, studying her as though she were an interesting and complex picture he needed to decipher. Finally he nodded.

"You're sure." She nodded, not able to speak again. This was such a big decision, but it felt like the right one. "Not yet. Soon." A smile came, then went, but Kate clung to the memory of it. He was happy that she'd chosen him. "First I have to decide which way you die."

"Die?"

"Yes. Everyone will have to think you're dead. It's the only way."

"Even Clayton," she whispered.

He laughed grimly. "Especially Clayton. If you can't accept that, you'd better leave now."

She swallowed and let herself picture it. Clayton mourning her, standing as a coffin was lowered into the ground, even crying when he was alone... She buried her head in her hands, then felt a rush of air and arms around her.

"Kate, darling," Clark's low whisper came, "it's all right. You'll be alive, and he'll get over it."

She clung to him. "I know," she said shakily, and she did. Clayton Webb would find a way to get over her, especially if he could mourn and be done with her. A worse thing for him would be if she did just vanish. "All right." She burrowed her head into the space between his shoulder and neck. "Soon, Clark. Please soon."

"Very soon." His hand came to lift her head gently, and she saw the determination on his face. "But you have to make sure you act the same. No one can know a damned thing."

She nodded and made herself reach for her sub. She still wasn't hungry, but she knew she should eat, and she didn't want to talk any more now. She needed time.

Clark gave her a kiss on the cheek, then stood and went back to his chair to start in on his own sub. They ate in silence, and Kate found herself relaxing. Shock, maybe, but she was glad. She didn't want to be upset, not when she had this time with Clark.

After they were finished with the subs, he gathered up the plates and stacked them in the sink, then glanced at her. "You should go home now. I'll see you out, but I need to stay here." He gave her a quick smile. "I can't take any risk and get caught now, can I?"

She smiled back but shook her head. "I'm not leaving you again."

"You..." His voice died off. "You're not. All right."

"I love you, Clark." Her voice was even more quiet this time. "I love Clayton, don't get me wrong, but I love you more, and I know you love me. I'm on your side now."

"If you're on my side, you'll do what I say."

"Doesn't work that way. I have my own mind."

"And to think I wanted you this way. All right. But I need time to think."

She was shaking her head. "I know this isn't time to jump into bed, Clark. I just want to be here, to know you're safe."

She saw his eyes glisten with what she knew were tears. He blew out a long breath. "You amaze me," he said simply and came over to kiss her, this time on the lips. "Get ready for bed, and don't come back in here, please. I'll be working. With any luck I'll have a workable plan by the morning."

"All right." She stood, coming up into his warm embrace. "Good night, Clark."

"Good night, Kate."

She smiled and went into the familiar bedroom, then sank on the bed with a sigh. Her whole life had changed, she had seen Clayton for the last time, she was sure, and Clark loved her. Certainly more than enough for one night.

She made herself get up and take off her work clothes, then curled up under the covers, too tired suddenly to care about washing up or finding anything else to wear, and fell asleep.

*****

(A month later...)

"Here." Clark held out a sheaf of pictures to her. "You wanted to see."

Kate put down the book she was reading and looked up at her husband. "I've changed my mind. You said the car crash was convincing."

He slowly shook his head. "You have to know, Kate. I insist."

At that, she finally took the pictures and made herself look at them. Her funeral, Clayton grave and obviously strained, flowers, and finally a headstone with her name carved on it, the date of her birth, and the date of her death. She let herself cry at that.

He was down on his knees, his arms around her, and she took comfort in him. She pressed her face into his shoulder, letting the soft fabric of his shirt dry her eyes. When she'd finished crying, she made herself speak. She didn't want him thinking she wanted to go back to that life.

"It's done. I don't regret it."

"If you do, it's not too late," he said carefully. "You can reappear, tell them I grabbed you again, tell them you don't remember much. I can make it that way with some drugs."

"No. I love you." She made herself look one more time at Clayton, then handed the pictures back to Clark. "I won't leave. What we have is too good for that."

And it was. She was so happy being married to Clark, so happy in their new life. She just hoped that Clayton would find happiness as well, but that was up to him.

She saw Clark nod and knew that he would never bring it up again. They were together, and they would stay that way.

The End

Posted 11/27/01

Gail (gem225@hotmail.com)

JAG

Fiction