Body of Evidence (Evidence Series) by Rachel Grant Page A

whatever the hell they want.”
    “But you were a diplomatic envoy. That would be an act of war.”
    “Some would say arresting a former VP’s niece who’d been invited to the country was an act of war, but they weren’t too concerned about that.”
    “They justified it. I was found on the edge of the DMZ—”
    “And they could have found a way to justify arresting me. The State Department made it clear that by going in alone, there were no guarantees for my safety. The pilots had to stay on the plane to guard it. I was solo.”
    Curt was scared ? He’d risked his life and freedom to rescue her? Oh shit. She’d had it bad when he was Superman, but now he was mortal, and ten times sexier.
    “Don’t look at me like that, Mara. I’m no hero. If there’s a hero in this, it’s you. You survived two months inside the DPRK, and your first words after sentencing weren’t in defense of yourself. You took the blame and defended JPAC. Your words will go a long way toward keeping JPAC operational.”
    The garlicky shrimp hit her stomach with the density of a meteorite and twice as hot at his mention of JPAC, the organization she’d loved and the career that was now gone. “Congress tried to shut JPAC down after I was arrested, didn’t they?” And if word got out about the bomb, JPAC’s problems would be exponential.
    He nodded. “They’re funded for the next fiscal year, but hanging on by a thread.”
    She flopped back on the mattress and stared up at the ceiling. Every muscle in her body ached with exhaustion. Or maybe it was heartache. Or fear. “I’m a disaster.”
    “There is something you can do.”
    “Besides hide out on this boat forever? Do tell.”
    “JPAC will survive if you show Raptor was to blame. Help me bring down Raptor, Mara.”
    Join me on the Dark Side, Luke. Damn lawyer. He wanted her to commit to working against her uncle. She propped herself on her elbows. “I thought it was just Roddy. I didn’t think it was the organization as a whole.” That was the truth.
    “And now?”
    Her tiredness was so much more than jet lag. It was firing-squad lag, attempted-murder lag, losing-all-sense-of-safety-and-belonging lag. “You’ve made your point.” She met his gaze. “Raptor might be trying to kill us.”
    “ Might? ”
    He wanted her to admit her uncle could be behind it all. She couldn’t. Not to herself, and certainly not to him. She didn’t flinch from his gaze. Thankfully, his eyes didn’t hold pity. In fact, what she saw could be desire, but the guarded prosecutor was hard to read.
    She didn’t understand him. Or herself. Maybe all the forms of lag that plagued her had caused this overwhelming attraction to manifest. Or maybe it was the simple fact that lusting after Curt was an excellent distraction from the horrors of the day.
    Of course, lust didn’t begin to describe what she felt. She wanted him. Now. Here. In sixteen different ways, some of which were illegal in more conservative states. She’d survived on little more than adrenaline and fear for months, and her body was craving life-affirming release. Curt was gorgeous, ripped, and proximate.
    She was a starving woman presented with steak prepared just the way she liked it.
    But he was the last man on earth she should get involved with. “Can you make your calls and get us off this damn island?” she asked.

    R APTOR’S SURVEILLANCE EQUIPMENT probably outclassed that of the CIA, and Curt had carefully considered which of his friends and colleagues would be off Raptor’s grid. Lee Scott was the perfect choice. They’d met at a karate dojo when Curt was the elder teaching assistant and Lee a student, and had been friends for two decades. Curt trusted him completely. A private-sector computer and cell phone security expert, Lee worked outside political circles but knew the important players, he held government contracts that required him to pass high-level security clearance, and his expertise in phone systems ensured