whispered. “Or I swear I’ll kill whomever walks through that door.”
She could feel the butt of the gun against her belly. “Don’t,” she said. “I’ll do whatever you say.”
His gaze fastened on hers, and she saw a flicker of an emotion she couldn’t quite identify. Just as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, leaving her to wonder how this was going to end. If he was going to kill her. If he was going to kill one of her co-workers. If she would have that death on her conscience the rest of her life.
He stared at her for an interminable moment, his expression a disturbing mix of fear and very dark intentions. “Unless you want me to pull this trigger, I suggest you follow my cue.”
Before she could answer, he slid his hands to either side of her face and lowered his mouth to hers.
Chapter Two
Emily was so shocked by the sudden intimate contact that for a moment she could do nothing but stand there and try to absorb what was happening. She was keenly aware of his mouth against hers, of the forbidden rush of pleasure that surged from her lips all the way to her toes.
Somewhere in the back of her mind an internal alarm wailed. Some small voice of reason telling her to shove him away. But the heat of the kiss was interfering with the synapses firing in her brain. Every impulse to scramble back and forget this had ever happened was tempered with a stronger impulse to kiss him back and worry about the consequences later.
His mouth was firm and breathtakingly talented against hers. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. The scratch of his stubble against her cheek. When she opened her mouth to voice the protest caught in her throat, he deepened the kiss.
Her protest came out as a sigh. She could feel her body melting. She knew it was the worst thing she’d ever done in her life. But the sensations coursing through her overwhelmed her, made her think maybe kissing him was a mistake worth making….
“Monroe?”
With a strength that surprised her, she shoved the inmate away, appalled by what she’d done, stunned by what she felt, mortified by how this would appear to a fellow corrections officer.
That officer was standing at the locker room doorway, his gaze sliding from her to the inmate and then back to her. “Is there a problem here?”
“No,” the convict said.
The young officer addressed Emily. “Where’s your radio?”
Heat infused her cheeks. She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to feel. Barely able to meet the other man’s gaze, she stepped away from the inmate. “I—I must have put it in my locker.”
The officer glared at the inmate with narrowed eyes. “Who the hell are you?”
The convict grinned like an idiot and stuck out his hand. “Zack Devlin,” he said.
Reluctantly the officer took his hand. “You new or what?”
“First day on the job.” Devlin whistled. “Hell of a facility you’ve got here.”
“Yeah, well, if you want to keep your job, I suggest you keep your mouth to yourself.” The man disentangled his hand and glared at Emily. “The sergeant has been trying to reach you on the radio. We’ve got a situation in Cell Block 2-W. Code yellow for now, but I expect them to crank it up to red if the second head count comes up short. Sarge has asked every officer on duty to stay until they find the missing inmate.”
“Oh…uh…sure. I’ll just…get my radio and meet up with you in the briefing room.”
“And bring the new recruit with you.” Sending a final scathing look at Zack, the officer turned and left the room.
Emily’s knees went weak the instant the other man disappeared, and she sat down hard on the bench. She couldn’t believe what she’d done. Couldn’t believe one of her co-workers had seen her do it. What had she been thinking letting an inmate kiss her?
Groaning, she put her face in her hands. “I’m finished as a corrections officer.”
“Look, if I hadn’t done what I did, you would have brought down the wrath of God knows how many corrections officers, and I’d be on the floor getting a mouthful of concrete about now.”
Raising her head, all she could think of was that she was twenty-eight years old and she’d never been kissed like that in her life. Suddenly she felt as much contempt for herself as she did for the inmate.
He glanced toward the door. “Look, things are about to get nasty. I’m going to go while the going is good. I appreciate the help.”
“Don’t thank me for something I didn’t do,” she said, giving him a seething look. “I’m going to hit the alarm the moment you walk out that door.”
“Just remember that things aren’t always what they appear,” he said. “No matter what you hear about me later, don’t forget that.”
No, Emily thought, she didn’t think she would ever forget this night no matter how much she wanted to.
“Watch your back.” Giving her a mock salute, he slid through the doorway with the soundless grace of a panther and disappeared into the dimly lit corridor.
For several seconds Emily sat motionless on the bench and listened to the hard pounding of her heart. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Couldn’t believe levelheaded Emily Monroe had fallen for the oldest con in the book. She’d dishonored herself, jeopardized her job and compromised everything she’d ever believed in.
Just like her father.
She rose on trembling legs and started for the alarm panel. She was midway there when movement at the doorway drew her attention. For an instant she thought Devlin—or whatever his name was—had returned. She was surprised to see, of all people, Marcus Underwood, the administrator of Lockdown, Inc., the private corporation that ran the Bitterroot Super Max. What on earth was he doing at the prison this early in the morning?
“Mr. Underwood,” she said. “I was just—”
“Officer Monroe.” He crossed to her, followed by another man. “We caught part of what happened on the security cameras from the command center. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said.
“You’re aware that we’re currently under a code yellow.”
“Yes, sir. I was about to hit the alarm. An inmate overpowered me in the infirmary less than ten minutes ago.” Her voice shook as she described the situation she’d walked into at the infirmary. “He identified himself as Zack Devlin.”
The two men exchanged a look that sent a chill up her spine. “Devlin has a long and violent history,” Underwood said.
“Did he get away?” she asked.
“Nobody gets away from Lockdown, Inc.” The second man came up beside Underwood. The stripes on his shoulders told her he was a lieutenant, but she’d never met him. “We’ll get him.”
Underwood
