Page 81 of Hot Intent

Hismotherwas part of Cold Intent? He reeled in shock. What the hell was she up to?

Why would the woman who given birth to him be out to kill his girlfriend? Surely, Claudia wasn’t trying to keep other women from moving in on her son. The women his brothers had dated, and occasionally loved, over the years had never been shot at.

He highly doubted this woman felt the slightest inkling of maternal protectiveness toward him. Otherwise, she never would have abandoned him with his father all those years ago.

“What’s going on?” Roman asked urgently. “Tell me. I can help. You’re my son. If you’re in trouble, let me help you. I can get you out of Washington in a few hours. I’ll even bring out the girlfriend and the baby safely. You have my word on it.”

“Thanks. But we’re good for now. Anything you can find out about Claudia Kane or Operation Cold Intent would be helpful.”

“Consider it done.”

Alex sagged against the cheap headboard at his back. His old man might be an asshole, but maybe, just maybe, blood was thicker than water.

When his son was in trouble, could Roman be counted on to come through for him? Was he an idiot for involving his old man in this?

He knew without a shadow of a doubt that there would be strings attached to any help his father gave him, and those stringswouldget pulled on later. But Alex’s gut told that—for now—his father would do his best to help him figure out what Claudia was up to.

Roman was speaking again. “…about that other thing. I gather your abrupt exit from Cuba means you were able to bury anything…incriminating?”

Alex wasn’t willing to give up that bargaining chip just yet. He trusted his father a little, but notthatmuch.

Huh. And here he was right back up on that tightrope, teetering between his father and the CIA. Again. And this time athird factor was pushing and pulling at him. Hismother, of all people. She was the one chess piece he’d never seen being placed on the board.

How did he keep ending up caught in the middle like everyone’s favorite tug toy?

He shook his head to clear it. He faked making a few static noises into the receiver and disconnected the call. Jerkily, he turned the phone over, pulled the battery and sim card out, and flushed the pieces down the toilet individually.

“Well?” Katie demanded impatiently.

“Get some sleep. I need to think.”

She frowned unhappily, but disappeared into the bathroom. He heard the sounds of tooth brushing. She emerged wearing one of his t-shirts. Her legs were long and sleek, and the curves of her breasts soft and inviting under the cotton fabric.

“I’ve been honest with you, Alex, and now I need you to be honest with me.”

Aww, hell. She wanted to talk about feelings, again. It was a good interrogation tactic. Catch him when he was emotionally and mentally off balance. Drop a bombshell on him that his mother was alive and then move in for the kill when his defenses were down.

His warning antennae wiggled wildly. He muttered cautiously, “You need me to be honest about what?”

“Guantanamo. What happened to you there?”

He swore mentally. It figured that she would want to dredge up all that crap. It was where he’d gone off the carefully prepared script the CIA had laid out for the two of them. He answered, tersely, “I was drugged. You pulled me out. We each egressed the country.”

“What drug did that doctor give you?”

He frowned. Actually, that was a good question. Doctor Doe had called one of the medications CCRE. He’d forgotten about it until now.

Quickly, he powered up his laptop and typed in the four letters. It took a little searching but finally a Department of Defense paper came up on the screen. Concentrated Cannabis Resin Extract.

“What’s that?” Katie startled him by asking from over his shoulder. “Cannabis? They gave youpot?”

He scanned the medical paper quickly. “CCRE is a highly concentrated and refined derivative of cannabis resin.”

“Why on earth would they want to get you really, really baked?”

He grinned in a flash of unwilling amusement. But his humor faded as he caught sight of the extract’s main symptom.

Ever perceptive, Katie asked quickly, “What is it?”

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