Tainted Hearts by Cyndi Friberg Page A

be the president’s pride and joy.”
    “I’ve never found pleasure in pain, but
there are those in my company who would be happy to arrange a
demonstration. They could torture Ms. Fitzpatrick while we watch
and—”
    “How is this helping Raeanne?” Tuesday
rasped out.
    The hand against her throat eased. “You’re
going to help Raeanne. You’re going to meet with Job and
you’re—”
    “No! Job is a lunatic and you know it,” Marc
objected. “How many agents from how many agencies have attempted to
infiltrate PURE? How many have you lost?”
    “Why would you fight me on this, Sinclair?
You want him stopped as much as we do. What’s the current bounty to
PUREify you?”
    Tuesday gasped softly, her gaze colliding
with Marc’s. “PURE wants you dead?”
    “Badly,” he admitted.
    “Was that the real reason for your face job?
Does PURE finally have you on the run?” He pushed Tuesday away and
straightened his uniform jacket. “We want the same thing, and we’re
all willing to push certain boundaries to get it. You want your
daughter restored to health. President Rawsen wants his daughter
returned to safety. We all want PURE dismantled permanently.”
    “And I’m the price that must be paid for
everyone to get what they want.” Tuesday shuddered.
    “I’m not recruiting a sacrificial lamb, more
like a Trojan horse.”
    “Oh, thank you very much!” Tuesday felt her
face burn and wanted to crawl under the nearest piece of furniture.
Marc’s soft chuckle didn’t help the situation.
    “I simply meant we need a means by which to
transport the real threat. You will not be expected to put yourself
in harm’s way.”
    “You’re full of shit,” Marc said calmly. “If
she goes near the PURE stronghold, she’s in harm’s way.”
    “Why don’t we head back to Baltimore? We can
compare notes on the way.” With a tight, humorless smile, he put on
his hat. “Isn’t Ms. Lucero expecting you?”

Chapter Seven
     
    “Is it true that you’re sleeping with your
wife’s sister?”
    If Marc hadn’t been securely fastened into
the transport’s seat for takeoff he would have punched the
obnoxious old windbag in the face. No doubt that was the reason
General Bettencourt had waited until this moment to ask the
question.
    “Do they teach you how to push people’s
buttons or does it come naturally?” Tuesday countered from beside
him, her tone light, her green eyes sparkling with amusement.
    Maybe she was right. The general’s tactless
provocations were only effective if he reacted to them. “Laura Finn
is my sister-in-law. She is also a nurse, but I’m not sleeping with
her. Thanks for asking.”
    “She lives in your house, has since before
your wife overdosed on a drug you created. Are you sure the message
Emma released to the media told the whole story? Maybe she found
out you were—”
    “Stop provoking him or I won’t go near
Job!”
    Marc had been about to make a far less
polite threat. Why would she defend him? Why had she protected him
in the lodge? And why had her face turned the most fascinating
shade of red when she said he was her lover?
    “We need your cooperation,” the general told
her. “I don’t give a damn about him. I thought they should have let
him fry a long time ago.”
    Marc had learned to ignore this sort of
resentment over the years. He didn’t give a damn what Bettencourt
thought. His gaze drifted toward Tuesday and uncertainty tightened
his gut. He knew she didn’t think Elise deserved to be punished for
his role in the catastrophe. But what about him?
    The transport vibrated, the G-force stealing
Marc’s breath. It took almost three hours to reach Baltimore in his
solar shuttle. The military transport would cut that time in
half.
    “Why don’t you go after Raeanne?” Marc
asked. “Seems to me you’re ripe for conversion to PURE’s
philosophies.”
    The transport stabilized and Bettencourt
unfastened his safety restraints with a menacing clatter.