He looked…magnificent.
When she stopped toe to toe with him, he slowly raised his eyes to look at her, but otherwise sat unmoving.
She bent down to lift his rifle from his lap and set it aside. Then she knelt over him and settled into his lap.
All at once, as if a spring inside him had suddenly released, he buried his face between her breasts and wrapped his arms around her so hard that it almost hurt. Placing her arms about his neck, she buried her face in his soft hair and breathed him in.
The way he’d just looked at her, the way he held her, it washed away all of her doubts from a moment before. Swept them away like the rushing river until she couldn’t remember what they’d even been.
Chad wanted her.
Some part of her wanted to tip her head back and howl at the moon. Another part wanted to hold this quiet, peaceful instant of time in a glass jar so that she could pull it out on some future day when she needed it.
She’d thought there’d be a moment like that earlier—they all had. When Chad held back that bit of gold, she’d thought he’d say something corny about making her a proper wedding ring from it.
She’d seen Daniela take hope at that moment, too. Only now did she realize that Daniela hadn’t been hoping for herself. In fact, her face had gone blank the instant Chad had winked at her. Daniela had been hoping that Chad would use that gold to replace Tanya’s supposedly sold-off wedding band.
And she too had felt that brief surge of hope.
Despite her training.
Despite who she knew she was.
Despite knowing that such a thing was impossible in her life even if she was foolish enough to desire it.
For that brief instant, she had so wanted to wear Chad’s wedding ring. She could picture it on her hand. Something corny inscribed inside that would be totally and completely Chad: Jump off a waterfall with you any time or Let’s take the plunge.
Then he had tucked it away and winked at Daniela.
So he wasn’t a romantic. She wouldn’t know what to do with him if he was. Didn’t know what to do with him anyway.
And if he held her much tighter, she wouldn’t even be conscious, just from lack of oxygen.
As if of its own volition, one of Chad’s hands slid down her back, inside her slacks, and enveloped her behind. The other hooked around her.
He tipped his head back to look at her.
His eyes were awash with emotion in the moonlight. Doubt, fear, need. She understood them all, felt them all squeezing against the inside of her chest as if they’d crush all life from her heart if they could.
But there was something more there, in his eyes, that she couldn’t deny. She didn’t want to label it. She shut out the part that knew what the label was. If she let it in, all it would do was scare her. Probably terrify him. But there it was on his face, in her heart, even without the word to label it.
She closed her eyes as she leaned down to kiss him.
It didn’t hide the look. It didn’t hide the feeling.
Slowly, ever so slowly, they undressed each other in the moonlight. They took a long time touching each other’s bodies. It was as if they were newborn and on mutual voyages of discovery. And when he finally lay her back on the long car seat, she felt only welcome for the beautiful man watching her in the moonlight.
He tried to speak, but she didn’t let him.
Some moments were too perfect to be tarnished by words—even good words. This was a moment she would take deep inside and hold precious for a long, long time. Perhaps until her last breath was snuffed out in some future instant.
For now? There was only the now.
The man in the moonlight.
His eyes glazing over as he finally entered her.
His weight firmly adding to the pressure that built inside her. Built beyond any mere welcoming of flesh in flesh. He filled her with the moonlight as well. Each ripple of his hips pushing the light in further and further until it chased away the shadows of her past. Until it blinded the doubts of her future.
With Chad inside her, there was only the present.
This one.
Perfect.
Moment.
Chad knew he didn’t deserve this…and he didn’t give a damn.
The way the moonlight spilled over her face and her breasts. The blemishes of war that enhanced the female warrior were washed away by the softer light and left behind only the woman.
She’d welcomed him as none other had.
All the women in his life had been willing. Wollson didn’t have to teach him that lesson and the orphanage certainly hadn’t. It was something he’d always known: treat her right and she’ll treat you right.
But what Tanya offered had nothing to do with being willing.
She gave everything of who she was. He could take all he wanted and she would meet that need, willingly and with her whole being.
And if she could do that, he could do no less.
He breathed her in: moonlight, jungle, old car seat, and a shower in a late afternoon rainstorm that had finally broken up the camp by the river as it began to wash away the blood splattered on the rocks.
He tasted her lips, her neck, her breasts until no other flavor would ever satisfy him again. And he gave back everything he could to show her that.
Yes, women could fake it. Pretty damned impressively, he’d been told.
But there was a point beyond mere passion when it tipped over into ecstasy. No woman could fake that. And he’d never helped any woman wander so far down that path.
The warrior faded further. Still there, but slid into the background.
The woman who came forward made him want to never let her go. If only he could find some way to keep her present—with him, right here and now—he would do anything.
It wasn’t how good it felt to be inside her—though that was amazing, every powerful muscle working on him until he wanted to cry out in joy. It wasn’t how she felt in his arms—though he could recall no other who had fit so well.
Crazily, it was how he fit in her arms. As if he’d found where he belonged: being held by this woman, being enveloped by her.
When his desperate need for her slammed between them, it seemed to travel in both directions. Her release became his. His doing. Her doing. All wrapped together into a single dynamic event more powerful than any fire hose, more exhilarating than flying through the air into the rushing embrace of a warm river, more complete than…he didn’t know what. Delta training. Than firing a perfect score on the range. Than his single takedown shot out past thirteen hundred meters.
Tanya held him as if she, too, never wanted to let go.
When the aftershocks had eased enough, he lowered his weight onto her because he couldn’t stand to be as far away as propped elbows.
Her happy hum told him she felt the same.
Her kiss was as deep as the jungle darkness and as bright as the moonlight that sparkled in her hair.
When finally they rested cheek to cheek with no energy to do more, he whispered a single word into her ear. It was the only word in him. Everything had been washed away except for that one word.
23
“Medellín?”
Tanya tried to make sense of the word. It was a perfectly normal word, but she couldn’t figure out what to do with it in the light of day.
They sat on the car seats in front of the cafe: her, three Delta operators, Daniela, and Silva.
But all she could feel was the green-and-gold car seat where she and Chad had made love, and they were sitting once again this morning. Last night had nothing to do with sex and a great deal to do with making love. For a change, that shift didn’t bother her in the slightest.
And all she could hear was the one word that had made so much sense as Chad had whispered it in her ear like a holy blessing: “Tanya.”
How was she supposed to make sense of a word like “Medellín” when his whisper still wrapped around her? He’d breathed her to life with her
own name. As if she’d finally, after all these years, at long last, taken possession of who she was. She’d become herself in his arms when he’d whispered her name.
“Tanya?”
The heat rose in her once more, just at the memory. Foreplay hadn’t been some romp as she was used to. It had been as if they’d met for the first time, but already known each other for a lifetime of years. Each moment filled with both discovery and familiarity—no surprise, only wonder. As if—
“I think Tanya’s gone out to lunch.”
No she hadn’t. They’d only just had breakfast.
“What the hell did you do to the poor woman, dude?”
Tanya’s eyes focused enough to see Sofia poke Duane, “You, shush! Let her be.” Sofia’s smile was huge.
The others were looking at her with a wide variety of expressions. Duane was always the quiet, calm one of the Duane-and-Chad show, only rarely showing his emotions—but he was smiling at her kindly. Daniela’s eyes were soft and speculative. Whereas Silva’s eyes were rolling, clearly running short of patience.
And when she looked at Chad, she couldn’t help blushing. The heat roared into her cheeks no matter how she tried to hold it back.
“You’re blushing,” Chad grinned at her.
“That’s not helpful. I’d appreciate it if you’d stop smiling like a loon.”
“Got a lot to smile about this morning.” Which was the absolute truth.
Without bothering to dress, they’d made it back to the small hut set aside for them shortly before dawn. And there she’d tossed down her clothes and jumped him. He’d caught her easily and taken her: back against the central post, legs around his waist, wondering if the roof would come down on their heads and not caring. All of last night’s passion forgotten in one roaring go that had left them both sweating and gasping despite its brevity. Relative brevity—Chad’s stamina was awe-inspiring—but that had been no languid lovemaking. It had been all about the sex. The glorious, soul-filling kind of sex that—
She looked around the circle and put her hands back on her hot cheeks.
Chad was still grinning.
Tanya back-fisted him in the solar plexus. He released a very satisfying whoosh.
“Aaaaand, she’s back, sports fans,” Sofia bubbled out a laugh.
Tanya stuck her tongue out at Sofia, sitting all calm and composed in her black bucket seat.
“Medellín,” Tanya tried to anchor onto the only other word that had penetrated whatever sex-induced intoxication had taken her over. She’d been right that Chad was as addictive as cocaine and she could only hope that habit didn’t destroy her. She definitely didn’t look forward to the future withdrawal.
“Finally,” Silva groaned.
Daniela still watched her with curiosity.
“I’m here,” Tanya confirmed.
Daniela’s shift to la Capitana wasn’t so clear this morning. She seemed more kindly disposed toward them. Tanya had been afraid that after Daniela’s outburst in the jungle, she and Sofia would be treated as pariahs—outcasts from the Garden of Eden. It was clear that Daniela told that bit of her history to no one. Making it all the more curious that she’d told them. Even if Tanya still didn’t know what to do with it.
“We all know about these three men,” Daniela pulled out the same flyer that CIA agent Fred Smith had showed them in the Medellín safe house. “Two are gone, but they will be replaced soon at a meeting of el Clan del Golfo. In two days’ time they will all be in Medellín.”
“If you can find out where, we’ll take them down.” Chad patted his rifle. “Get me within half a mile, even three quarters, I can get it done.”
“No, we aren’t taking down the leaders of del Golfo.” It was her la Capitana voice.
Everyone exchanged looks but no one spoke.
“We’re taking down the entire clan. All at once. I want them erased from the face of the map.”
Duane whistled softly.
Tanya could hear Chad try to do the same, but he was still wheezing a bit from where she’d slammed him.
The “entire clan” numbered nearly three thousand people. Of course most of those were runners and enforcers. Taking out the top three would be a brutal blow. The whole operation would probably fall into chaos—very violent chaos. Take out the top ten and it might be past recovery but its collapse would still be ugly. Take out the top twenty or so and they’d probably be out of action. Twenty cartel leaders in a single day? That was a massive operation. At the top levels, one per year was a success story.
“Two days?” Tanya knew about Delta Force in action. Had seen them do what they did enough times now to understand what they were capable of. But without a plan…
“Two days?” But Sofia asked the question differently. Instead of concern, there was anticipation.
Right. Sofia had been recruited from the Intelligence Support Activity. Tanya was used to planning one-woman operations, even small team ops, on the fly. The idea of cleaning out del Golfo seemed unimaginable. To Sofia, it would be second nature. Tanya wouldn’t mind learning to do that as well.
“The day after tomorrow,” Daniela confirmed. “It’s Saturday morning now. They have a lunch meeting in Medellín on Monday.”
“We could use some help,” Sofia made it a suggestion rather than a question.
Daniela smiled. “Who do you have in mind?”
Chad made it through the suite’s door about thirty seconds ahead of the others. Per Sofia’s signal, the rest of the team were all waiting for him. He started speaking the moment he crossed the threshold.
“Okay. Premise: Tanya’s the leader and Sofia’s the brains of our operation.”
“Got that right,” Melissa muttered to Carla.
Chad ignored her.
Ignored them both when Carla gave her back a high-five.
“We’ve all fought together before on various sides. For Estevan, against Aguado, for the Expediter until she double-crossed us, and no, we don’t know where she’s gone—certainly don’t know that she’s dead just because we downed her plane. Fred,” the CIA agent was here as well, “you’re procurement for this team, not CIA. So don’t promise shit that you can’t deliver.”
“What’s the target?” Richie leaned forward.
“She’ll explain. I had a falling out with Tanya, but we’re married—”
There were gasps around the room and he shook his head to explain this was backstory, not reality. Though reality was getting slippery for him where Tanya was concerned.
Melissa and Carla looked at him strangely—just as strangely as the three women had at the gold camp. No time to think about two more incomprehensible women.
“She and I have been together ever since Estevan and Lake Maracaibo. We’re better now. We’re all freelancing mercenaries about to go to work for la Capitana. And, yes, we’ve absolutely confirmed that’s who she is.”
There were voices out in the hall.
Chad raised his voice, but kept it light. “I can’t believe you shitheads got a deal like that and didn’t cut me in on it.”
“Why would we have called you?” Carla picked up the cue right away. “Tanya, sure. But you? Especially after what you did to her, you bastard.”
Tanya came into the room at the lead of the others and slipped her arm around his waist, “He’s only a bastard part of the time. Hi guys. Haven’t seen any of you in a long time.”
Chad started to turn to introduce the newcomers, but Tanya beat him to it.
“This is Daniela. And the guy with the nervous hand on his M16 is Silva. He’s one of Daniela’s best, but he doesn’t like strangers.”
Silva grimaced at the truth of that, but only eased his hand off the weapon after carefully surveying the room.
He wouldn’t know that, throughout the room, handguns hid inches from fingertips. Kyle’s arm draped lightly on the cushion behind Carla’s shoulder was probably gripping his weapon. The sofa pillow that Richie rested his hand on would hide another. Melissa�
�s ankle holster where her leg rested across her knee. And who knew with Carla—she never looked armed until suddenly she was pointing twin Glocks at your face while you tried to catch the grenade she’d just tossed at you.
The only one who wasn’t armed and ready was—
“Who’s he?” Daniela nodded toward Fred Smith, picking him out as the anomaly in the room.
Silva’s M16 eased over to point at Fred’s chest. He really didn’t fit in.
“Procurement’s my game. Fred Smith is my name. You tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you. Anything!” Fred sounded even more voluble than usual. He was always that greatest of oddities—a cheerful, pleasant, talkative CIA agent—but this was something more than usual.
“How about a tank?”
“Russian or American? The Israeli Merkava is also a nice option, though they’re harder to get. How soon do you need it?”
Daniela offered a brief smile. “I could get to like you, Mr. Fred Smith.”
“I like being liked. I hope you’ll find I’m likeable.” He actually clamped his mouth shut and blushed slightly as everyone turned to stare at him. Because of his red hair and fair complexion, the blush showed brightly.
Daniela moved easily into the room and sat in one of the armchairs. Tanya sat on the arm of one of the sofas close beside Carla. Chad followed Duane’s example and grabbed a chair from the dining table, swung it into the gap beside Tanya. Duane sat backward on his as Sofia dropped onto the couch beside Melissa. Silva remained standing with his back to the door, but his weapon aimed at the deep pile rug.
Unable to help himself, he slid a hand across Tanya’s behind and tucked his fingers into her back pocket. He could feel Tanya’s posture soften slightly at his touch. No woman had ever responded to him so completel—
“Tell me.”
Chad opened his mouth.
“Not you.” Daniela’s gaze tracked across the group once more. “You,” she pointed to Carla.
Chad relaxed. She couldn’t have made a better choice. Nobody spun tales better than Carla.
“No, you tell me.”
Midnight Trust Page 20