by Cindy Dees
Terror twisted her stomach tight. It was the only logical conclusion based on the information she had, but hearing it said aloud—by an expert—made it a great deal more real. A great deal more frightening. She took a deep breath and asked the next logical question. “How big a possibility?”
His voice was practically a growl. The beast within him was winning. “I don’t know.”
“Give me a ballpark figure. Do I have a fifty-fifty chance of making it out alive?”
“Jeez, Sophie. Don’t ask me that. There are so many variables…so many possible scenarios for how this could go down.”
Was he actually willing to send her on a no-kidding suicide mission? Tears burned her eyes. “If you’re asking me to die, I have a right to know, don’t you think?”
The beast broke through, bursting its restraints with an almost audible roar of fury. Brian stepped forward, desperation distorting his face into a grimace of physical pain. He swept her up in his arms, dragging her against his body in a grip so tight she could barely breathe.
“Aww, Sophie. Don’t cry. I can’t stand tears.”
The dam within her broke and she pulled in a sobbing breath. His mouth swooped down to capture hers and stole the breath completely away.
“You even taste like peaches,” he mumbled, nipping at her lower lip, plucking at strings of desire running straight down to her core.
“Huh?”
“Peaches and woman.”
She whimpered against his mouth, her hands plunging into his hair, tugging him closer for more. He kissed her voraciously, his tongue plunging inside her mouth in a blatant and carnal imitation of sex that left her panting. Absolute certainty flooded her that he didn’t want her to take the mission. That he was scared stiff about what could happen to her. That he wanted her to stay alive. For him.
And her heart melted.
He tore his mouth away from hers. “Please, please, don’t cry. If I’m crazy out of line, tell me. If you want this to stop, you’re going to have to do it, because I want you so bad I can’t think straight.”
The rest of her turned to molten lust then and there. He wanted her. As bad as she wanted him. The realization blew every last vestige of rational thought out of her brain. She mumbled between kisses, “Thank heaven. I was worried I was the only one who felt like this.”
He laughed into her mouth, backing her across the room toward the couch, his hands everywhere, pushing up her sweater and pulling down her bra to reveal her aching flesh. His mouth closed on her sensitized nipple and she about jumped out of her skin. Her skirt bunched up around her waist all of a sudden and clever fingers found her core, stroking deep into her heat.
He groaned, and with one knee on the couch, lowered her to her back on the cushions. He followed her down, kissing her stomach as he pulled the sweater all the way over her head. “I can’t get enough of the smell of you.”
She reached for his zipper, dying to feel the hard, velvety length of him. To know the measure of his desire for her. His jeans sagged open and she pushed them down over his hips. His buns were muscular and taut, flexing under hands, all eager male.
He lifted away long enough to pull off her skirt and panties, and cold air hit her naked flesh…a quick jolt of what-the-hell-was-she-doing? She heard the quick snap of a condom, and then he was back.
“Miss me?”
His tongue plunged into her mouth while his finger matched the motion lower, massaging her slick, swollen flesh into betraying her last shred of common sense. It worked.
“Brian—” she gasped, her tears and terror evaporating by the second.
“That’s it. Ride the wave for me.”
She arched up into him, bucking against his hand. She cried aloud and his mouth was there to drink the sound in, to soothe her lips for a moment with wordless murmurs. And then he was inside her, a stretching fullness that sent her oversensitized nerves into a paroxysm of release.
“Holy Mike, you feel good when you do that,” he groaned.
Her internal muscles clenched around him and he groaned again, pushing even deeper into her. “Am I hurting you?” He began to retreat and she wrapped her legs assertively around his waist.
He laughed and plunged home. They found the pounding rhythm of the ocean, their breathing harsh as they strained against each other. It was wild and raw and completely uncivilized, and she didn’t think she was ever going to get enough of him. The fury built within her once again. Together they clawed higher and higher, a wire stretching tighter and tighter between them until, with a shout, Brian made one last shuddering plunge and pushed them both over the edge.
The fall was spectacular; entire galaxies of stars burned up within her.
Wow.
Double wow.
Holy—holy what the heck was she thinking, Batman? If she accepted his offer, she was going to have to work with this man for the next several months! And then a truly horrifying thought slammed into her. Holy smokes, those cameras better be turned off, Batman.
“Brian?” she murmured in dawning dismay.
“Hmm?”
“Are your surveillance cameras still going?”
His forehead sagged against hers and he swore under his breath. “They’re sound or motion activated.”
“I think we’re in trouble on both scores.”
A reluctant laugh escaped him. “I’m in trouble. Not you.” He pulled away from her and sat up, tugging the forgotten afghan over her. He swore some more under his breath. Then turned to her and said dead seriously, “I’m really sorry. I’ll ask Stoner or one of the other guys to take over handling you. I’ll be out of here before morning.”
Panic ripped into her. He was leaving? She asked in a small voice, “Are you running away from me?”
“Hell no. You’re amazing. I’m running away from me.”
In a smaller voice she whispered, “But I don’t want you to go. I’m scared.”
“Aww, hell.” He speared his hand through his hair and glanced over at her, his gaze as bleak as the cold moonlight filtering into the room.
And then he leaned over, wrapping her up in his big, warm, safe embrace. He lifted her into his lap and she snuggled close, soaking up the comfort he offered.
Finally she murmured against his chest, her mouth a sleepy caress on his skin, “I hate good-byes.”
“So do I,” he mumbled.
“But you’re good at them, aren’t you? Another mission is always out there, beckoning, isn’t it?”
He sighed with what she prayed was genuine regret. “Yeah. There’s always another crisis around the corner. I suppose it’s an addiction after a fashion. But I just have to be at the middle of the action.”
She heard between the lines, loud and clear. He might not like good-byes, but he sure as heck was good at them. He was warning her: he said good-bye to every woman, sooner or later.
He muttered into her hair, his breath an achingly soothing caress. “Honey, you’ve got more strength in you than you have any idea of. I’m the royal bastard here. I took advantage of you in a vulnerable moment.” He added in an almost bewildered tone, “But damned if I could keep my hands off you.”
And in that moment, as he tore himself up with remorse over not treating her right, her decision crystallized. She didn’t stop to question it too hard. No telling if her logic would hold up under scrutiny or not. But she knew deep in her gut, with utter certainty, what she was going to say.
Chapter 6
“I’ll do it.”
Shocked to the core of his being, Brian pulled back enough to stare down at her. Incredulous, he exclaimed, “Are you sure?” He surged up over her, tipping her onto her back and covering her, afghan and all with his body in almost instinctive need to protect her. From the mission, from him…hell, from herself.
She gazed up at him, her dark eyes limpid and calm. Calmer than his, in fact. He could drown in them happily. “I’m sure.”
“Don’t do it.” The words burst out of him before he c
ould stop them. What the hell was he thinking? This is exactly what he wanted. What he’d spent all day working toward. What the mission required of him—of them both!
She blinked up at him, startled. “Why not?”
“I—You—Oh, hell. Never mind. Don’t do this on account of us, though.”
“I’m not.”
Bull. He ought to call her on it. Not let her do this thing. She was stepping into a suicide trap for all the wrong reasons. For him, for God’s sake! How could he possibly stand by and let her do it? In losing control of himself, he’d inadvertently manipulated her into her decision. Hey, baby. Volunteer for the stupidly dangerous mission, and in return, I’ll give you really great sex up until the part where you die. What kind of bastard did that make him? The very worst kind. One who’d take advantage of a vulnerable woman’s feelings to get what he wanted. Disgust tasted bitter on his tongue.
He couldn’t help it. The words just came out, a desperate whisper. “Promise me you’re not doing this because of what just happened between us.”
She reached up and placed her soft palm against his rough cheek. “Yes, Brian. I promise. I have one condition, though.”
Quick dread stabbed his gut. “What?”
“Don’t leave. Stay with me. I want you to train me.”
He groaned aloud. “No way will my boss agree to that after—Well, after.”
“He’s got no choice. It’s the only way I’m agreeing to do this. I trust you. You’ll keep me safe.”
“I haven’t done a hell of a good job of protecting you so far.”
“Stop beating yourself up. We’re two consenting adults. Nobody forced me onto this couch or out of my clo—” she broke off.
She probably just remembered the ubiquitous camera in the corner. He cursed mentally. What were the odds he could get a hold of that tape and destroy it before anyone else saw it? Nil, no doubt. This op was too important to run the surveillance equipment on remote feed. There’d be a live operator at the other end of the damned camera. Copies of the tape were probably already being distributed through the Ops Center. The guys were probably popping the popcorn and getting ready to enjoy the show this very minute. He swore under his breath and pushed up away from her.
“I have to make a phone call,” he declared grimly.
He headed for the scant privacy of the kitchen and picked up the phone there. Hollister was already on the line, waiting for him.
“What in the hell were you thinking?” his boss demanded without preface.
Brian closed his eyes. If he was lucky, the upcoming butt chewing would only hurt like crazy. If he wasn’t lucky, he’d just blown his career to hell. “I wasn’t thinking, sir. I absolutely deserve everything you’re about to shout at me.”
Hollister was silent for a long, heavy moment. Brian held his breath while the guy gathered himself to deliver the mother of all ass whuppings.
Finally, his boss bit out, “We picked up the audio of her agreeing to do the mission.”
No doubt about it, Hollister was mad as hell. But the guy had formidable self-control. Brian let out a careful breath.
Hollister continued in a tight growl. “I’m going to assume you seduced the subject because in your professional judgment that was the only way to get the job done. Otherwise, you would be guilty of a…gross…breach of professionalism. And I would be extremely disappointed in you.”
Ouch. Disappointed? That was a low blow. Brian winced. He almost wished the guy would scream and holler at him.
Hollister said grimly, “We picked up her condition, too.”
“Yeah,” Brian mumbled glumly.
“I’m prepared to agree to her condition. But I have a condition of my own.”
Brian’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Hollister was willing to let him continue to run this op…even after what he’d just done with Sophie? Frankly, he was stunned. But then his brows slammed together. The other shoe had to drop, here. Hollister might maintain control of his temper, but he also didn’t hesitate to let the hammer fall when it was called for. Brian’s shoulders hunched up, preparatory to the blow he felt coming.
Hollister ground out, “If you lay a hand on her again, I’ll kick your ass back into the Stone Age, Riley. I’ll bury your career so deep you’ll never climb out of the hole I toss you in. I’m talking court-martial here. Conduct unbecoming an officer. A long career breaking rocks at Fort Leavenworth. You got that, Captain?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ll talk more in the morning. My office. 6:00 a.m. Sharp.”
“Yes, sir.”
The phone disconnected abruptly. So much for professionally and diplomatically getting the reluctant civilian to agree to the incredibly risky mission. Man, he’d messed this one up bad. Brian set the receiver down gently. All of a sudden, the prospect of spending the next few weeks, day and night, with Sophie—under the watchful eye of his boss—made his blood run cold. He was going to have to keep his hands off her. Way off her. Completely and totally off her. Not only for his sake, but for hers, too.
He was a dead man.
When Sophie woke up, the smells of coffee and cooking bacon drifted to her nose. Ahh. Gotta love a man who could take you to the moon and back and then cook breakfast for you the next morning.
She jumped into the shower, got dressed and headed downstairs in a delicious, dreamy haze of memory of last night. It had been incredible. Brian had been incredible. And he’d been crazy for her. Her! Twenty-four hours ago she didn’t even know Brian Riley existed. And now she breathed the very essence of him. It was a miracle.
She rounded the corner into the kitchen, the smile in her heart shining in her eyes. “Hey you…” The greeting faded.
Lucas Stone turned around, spatula in hand. “Pancakes and bacon okay?”
“Uhh, yeah. Sure. Hi, Lucas.”
“Morning, ma’am. How’re you feeling today?” He neatly stacked pancakes on a plate beside a pile of crispy bacon and carried it past her to the dining table. She followed him, worried. Where was Brian? Surely he hadn’t left her after all! Was he still on the job?
She sat down at the table, staring blankly at her plate as Lucas slid in across from her. She looked up. “Is Brian—” She couldn’t finish it.
“He’s at the office getting a final…briefing…before your training begins.”
Lucas knew she’d agreed to do the mission? Had Brian told him? Or—humiliation squirmed inside her—had he heard her say it over the surveillance equipment last night? Heat flooded her cheeks. Had they all heard and seen it? How was she ever going to face any of them?
“Eat up. You’re going to need your strength.”
She looked up at him in surprise. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him exactly what he knew, when the street side door blew open on a gust of cool salt air.
Brian. The relief that coursed through her was truly pathetic.
“Hey, pea—” He broke off mid-word as his glance lifted over her head and he spotted Stone. “—Sophie. Hey, Stoner.”
“Rip.”
She looked over at Brian, surprised. “Rip? Isn’t that a rather odd nickname?”
He stepped further into the room, setting down a pair of identical bulky, gray canvas bags. “It’s my field handle.” At her frown he elaborated. “It’s a call sign we use over the radios to identify each other. Everybody has to choose one.”
Stone interjected, laughing, “Or if you’re unlucky, one is chosen for you. His, for example.”
Sophie looked back and forth between the two men. Brian looked a little overheated about the gills, and Stoner was laughing. She replied, “Okay, I’ll bite. How’d you get the handle?”
When Brian didn’t reply, Stone was happy to jump in. “So there we were, having an important meeting with the big cheeses to convince them to let us in on their super-secret project, and we’re all decked out in our best uniforms, spit-polished to the hilt. And Graceful, here, drops his hat. When he bends down to pick it up, his perf
ectly tailored, snug-for-all-the-girls slacks let loose a resounding rrrriiiip. All eyes turn to him and the head honcho says, ‘Son, is there a problem?’”
Brian was distinctly red now.
Stone continued, chortling, “And our boy turns around bends over, and flashes his boxers with the words Go Army proudly displayed. Ever since, he’s been the Ripper or Rip.”
Brian rolled his eyes at her and she quipped, “Hey, at least you aren’t Ripper as in ‘Jack, the.’”
He shrugged and threw a dire look at his teammate. “You never know. I may still go postal one of these days.”
Stoner laughed and stood up to take the dishes out to the kitchen. He made a point of reaching across her and flexing his biceps for her before he picked up the syrup-covered plate, though. She laughed up at him.
He grinned back, unrepentant. “You two have fun today.”
“We will.”
Brian interrupted. “Speaking of which, if you’re ready to go, Sophie, we have an appointment in a few minutes.”
“With whom?”
“My boss.”
She heard Stoner’s sympathetic suck-in of air between his teeth as he disappeared into the kitchen. Her stomach knotted around the heavy meal. “Do I have to?”
“He has some paperwork for you to sign.”
She bet. There was the small matter of signing her life away. Literally. Brian gave her no time to fret over it, however. He whisked her out of the house and into a waiting SUV with blacked-out windows. He guided the vehicle down the beach toward the cluster of low buildings that made up the main training facility. He was silent. She got the distinct impression he didn’t feel like talking. Unfortunately, when she got nervous, she babbled. She did her best to hold it back, but finally, the prospect of facing a senior officer who knew exactly what they’d done last night—heck, probably watched what they’d done last night—was too much for her.
“Is this car bugged?”
“No.”
“Any cameras in it?”
“No.”
Thank God. She burst out, “Is your boss mad at me?”
Brian looked over at her, surprised. “Of course not. He’s royally pissed off at me, but he’s not upset with you in the least.”