Riptide

Then she
    bit his neck, then kissed where she'd bitten him. "I wish you were
    naked." To his immense credit, he didn't do anything other than
    shake a bit. "This is very close, Becca. My fingers are actually itching
    they want to touch you so much. But this is your father's
    house. We can't. Hey, how would you like to go out in the backyard,
    maybe we could take a couple of blankets?"

"Out from under the parental roof?"
    "That's it. Oh yeah, for sure we could wave to the FBI agents
    that are scattered around." He sighed deeply, kissed her ear, and
    sighed again. "My molecules are even horny."
    Becca sighed and rested her hand on his chest. His heart was
    pounding hard and fast beneath her palm. She arched up and kissed
    his throat, then eased back in the circle of his arms. "Not fair at all.
    I mean, the shirt you're wearing is nice but I would love to kiss
    your chest, maybe even run my hands down over your belly."
    He shuddered, drew quickly away from her, and rose. "I've been
    feeling your breasts against me and it's driving me nuts. Now, since
    we can't be wicked the way I would like, I've got to get out of here.
    I just can't take any more. I'd like to try but I know it wouldn't
    work. Good night. I'll see you in the morning. I might be a bit
    late. I've got to go home and do some stuff." And he was gone. Her
    bedroom door closed very quietly behind him.
    She sat there on her bed, hugging her knees. So suddenly her
    life had changed. And in all this nightmare, she'd found herself a
    man she hadn't believed could even exist. His first wife, Vivie, had
    had peas for brains. She hoped that Vivie--silly name--lived as far
    away as Saint Petersburg, Russia. It was a good enough distance
    away.
    Soon enough, of course, Krimakov intruded. She wanted to
    shoot him, just point a gun at his chest and fire. She wanted him
    gone, into oblivion, so he couldn't ever hurt anyone again.

    The next day, at precisely noon, when Governor Bledsoe of
    New York -was walking his dog, Jabbers, in his protected garden, a
    sniper shooting from a distance of at least fifteen hundred feet
    nailed his dog right through the folds of his neck. Jabbers was

rushed to the vet and it looked like he would survive, just like his
    master had.
    Thomas turned slowly to his daughter, the two of them alone in
    the house. "This is over the top. It's just too much. Damnation, he
    shot the dog in the neck. Unbelievable. At least the sick bastard
    isn't here."
    "But why did he do it?" Becca said. "Why?"
    "To laugh at us," Thomas said. "To make this big joke. He wants
    us to know just how invincible he is, how he can do anything he
    wants to and get away with it. How he's here and then he's there,
    and we'll never get him. Yes, he's laughing his head off."

Chapter 28

    Gaylan Woodhouse sat at an angle across from Thomas's desk with
    his face in the shadows, as was his wont, and said,"I don't want you
    to worry about your daughter,Thomas. Your whereabouts will not be leaked. As you know, the media is still in a frenzy over the shooting
    of poor Jabbers. The country is primarily amused at his audacity,
    titillated, glued to their TVs. Everyone wants to know about
    Krimakov, this man who swore to kill you twenty-some years ago.
    By shooting that damned dog, he's turned up the heat. He wants
    the media to find you for him and then he'll come after you."
    "No," Thomas said slowly, shaking his head. "I don't think that
    was his motive at all. You see, Gaylan, he had me in Riptide. He had to know I would never allow Becca to go up there alone. He could
    have easily shot me. He proved he was an excellent distance
    shooter when he shot the governor of New York. From that kind
    of distance, he could have nailed me with little effort. But he didn't
    force anything after he kidnapped Sam McBride, except to shoot
    Becca in the shoulder with a dart that had a piece of paper rolled
    around the shaft. No, Gaylan, he shot the governor's dog because
    he wanted to give me the finger, show me again that it was his
    decision not to kill me and Becca in Riptide. He wants to show
    me that he doesn't have to do anything until he decides he wants
    to do it. He wants to prove to me over and over that he's superior
    to me, that he's the one in control here, that he's the one calling all
    the shots. It's a cat-and-mouse game and he's proving again and

again that he's the cat. Damnation, he is the cat. Adam's right. During
    all of this, we've only been able to react to what he