by Cynthia Eden
The words were rough, possessive. And they were the last things that she’d expected him to say.
Her drumming heartbeat seemed to stop for a moment.
“I don’t know how it happened, I just know it did.” His hand rose, and his warm fingers curled under her chin. “I see you, and I want.”
She licked lips gone dry. He was voicing her own thoughts. “Cale...”
His head bent, and he kissed her. Adrenaline had held her body tight. Adrenaline, fear, anger... But with the press of his mouth to her, all of her feelings seemed to erupt in an instant.
Her hands rose, curled around his shoulders. She pulled him closer as her nails dug into his shirt. The shirt was in the way. She needed him—
Closer.
He wanted her.
She was desperate for him.
And, for however short of a time it might be, she had him. No interruptions. No distractions. Just Cale and her.
His mouth seduced. It caressed, it tempted. His fingers slid down her body, coming to rest right over the curve of her hips, and she could feel the heat of his touch scorching her right through her clothing.
Cassidy wanted all of their clothing gone. She wanted him.
Two lovers. In twenty-seven years, she’d had two lovers. One had been in college, when she’d enjoyed her brief taste of freedom. She’d thought she loved him.
She’d been wrong.
Lover number two had been another EOD agent. She’d thought the strength he offered was what she wanted.
She’d been wrong.
This need... Cale... Wanting him had nothing to do with strength. It had everything do with passion. With a consuming desire that grew stronger and stronger in her with his every touch.
And he was touching her. Pushing up her shirt and tossing it away. Then his fingers—those rough, calloused fingers—were sliding over her flesh, and Cassidy arched into his touch.
The killer after her—the fear—faded away.
Only Cale remained.
Only Cale.
He yanked off his own shirt. When she saw his bandage, a gasp broke from her. They had to be careful...they—
He lifted her into his arms, acting like he didn’t even feel the wound.
Okay, so maybe they didn’t need to be so careful.
Tough guy.
She loved that about him.
They kept kissing. He carried her, moving down the darkened hallway and entering the first bedroom on the right.
It was dark in there, too. But she liked the darkness. You could hide in the dark. Almost pretend that you were someone else.
She wanted to keep hiding and pretend that her reality wasn’t a lifetime of guards and secrets.
His fingers were at the snap of her jeans.
But he was hesitating.
Why?
“If you don’t want this,” Cale growled, his voice rough and wonderful in the dark, “tell me now.”
She smiled, but she knew he couldn’t see the movement in the darkness. Her hands rose again. Slid over the muscled expanse of his chest. The man’s abs... Wow. “I want you.”
He jerked open that snap. Slid down the zipper. She’d already kicked her shoes away while he was carrying her.
Cool air whispered over skin. No, that wasn’t just air. That was his breath. He’d bent, pressing his mouth over the curve of her stomach. And he was kissing her flesh. Caressing her so carefully.
Like she was something fragile to him, delicate.
She didn’t want delicacy. She wanted his passion. Every bit of it.
So her hands wrapped around his arms. She arched her hips against him. “Cale!”
His head lifted.
His eyes glittered in the darkness, blazing with need and lust. Then his hands were rising over her. He unhooked her bra and tossed it—heck, she didn’t even care where, right then.
She only cared about—
His mouth was on her breast. He licked, kissed, sucked, and her legs rose and locked around his hips. His arousal pressed against her. Long and hard and straining, and she didn’t want to wait. It had never been like this, the need a fire in her blood. She couldn’t catch her breath. She could only feel him. All along her body. She wanted him inside her. Was desperate to feel the thrust of his body into hers.
“Easy...” His whisper.
Forget easy. She wanted hard and fast and she wanted pleasure. Him. Now.
He reached around her, sliding his hand into the wallet he’d yanked from his pocket and pulling out—wait, what? Protection? Had to be. The guy was always so prepared.
Maybe too prepared. But the thought was fleeting. Vanishing quickly in the haze of need that surrounded her.
Then he was coming back to her, pulling down her panties. Ripping open that foil packet and, after just a moment, pushing his aroused flesh right against her.
His fingers threaded through hers. His hands pushed hers back against the mattress. His gaze held hers.
And he thrust into her.
One long, hard thrust that sent him deep into her core.
She cried out, lost in the intensity of the moment. Then he withdrew and thrust again, pushing his flesh right over the sensitive button of her desire.
Her legs tightened around his hips. She met him eagerly, thrust for thrust, and the bed rocked beneath them.
Every fear that she’d had vanished. There was no room for fear. There was no room for anything but the passion between them. The fierce movements of his body, the thrust and withdrawal of his flesh, again and again.
Harder.
Deeper.
Making her lose her mind.
Her body tightened. The pleasure was so close, just out of her reach, but every glide of his body, every thrust of his hips, and that pleasure seemed—
Cassidy cried out as the release hit her. Pleasure rocked through her body and she shuddered, caught up in the maelstrom of release as she’d never been before.
Cale’s hold on her hardened even more as he gritted out her name. His hips pushed down, he thrust deeper and she knew that he’d found his own release.
Their panting breath filled the air. She didn’t move. Didn’t want to. Cassidy wanted to go on holding Cale and feeling the pleasure pulse through her body in sweet aftershocks of release.
Killers. Dangers. She wasn’t ready to face the threats around her.
So she just wrapped her arms around Cale. She closed her eyes, and she let everything else vanish.
* * *
SYDNEY SLOAN—no, now Sydney Sloan-Ortez—knew the minute when her husband entered her office. She just felt him. The air shifted, and every nerve in her body went on high alert. That was generally her body’s instinctive response to Gunner.
Sydney looked up, her breath catching. And, sure enough, Gunner stood in the doorway.
Some people were afraid when they saw Gunner. He appeared hard and dangerous, and he’d sure gazed into hell more than his fair share of times.
But when Sydney looked at him, she never felt fear.
Happiness bloomed inside her as she leaped to her feet. Three seconds later, she was in his arms—her favorite spot in the world.
Gunner held her in a grip of steel, his body trembling lightly against hers. “I missed you,” he whispered. For Gunner, those words were the same as a declaration of love. As far as she knew, Gunner didn’t miss anyone but her.
He eased back, and his hand rose to gently caress the curve of her stomach.
Her and the twins.
“How are my sweethearts?” His normally hard-as-nails voice had dropped to a croon.
Sydney couldn’t help but smile. Gunner was convinced they were having girls. While he’d been on the last mission, she’d found out that the he was right. She was just waiting for the perfect moment to reveal that news to him.
“We’re all just fine,” she told him, unable to stop her smile. Now that you’re home. In the past, she would have gone on the mission with him, working easily in the fiel
d.
Dodging bullets was almost as natural to her as breathing.
But with babies on board and her doctor emphasizing the risks of a twin pregnancy, she hadn’t been about to jeopardize the safety of her children.
And Mercer had also recently offered her a promotion. Director of Information Retrieval. With a substantial pay raise like the one he’d been tossing around, she couldn’t refuse. With the new job, she’d still do some occasional fieldwork, but she’d also have a lot more time to spend at home.
With her sweethearts.
She pulled Gunner fully into her office and shut the door. She’d missed him so badly, ached for him every night. His eyes were sliding over her now, and she could all but feel the caress on her skin.
To think...she’d almost lost Gunner. Almost let her own past take him away from her.
No one will ever take him away now.
Because she’d do anything necessary to protect him.
Just as he would her. She knew Gunner would lie for her, fight for her, even kill for her if necessary.
A man like Gunner didn’t love easily, but when he did love, it was consuming.
“I heard that your team took out the Executioner,” Sydney said as her gaze drifted quickly over him, making sure there weren’t any new injuries on her man. Taking out the international killer sure hadn’t been his original mission, but word had leaked quickly through the EOD once the Executioner had been eliminated.
Instead of answering, Gunner brushed his lips against hers, stealing her breath. Giving her his.
She kissed him back, and finally—finally—some of the fear she’d felt since he’d left for the mission to Rio vanished.
Gunner was used to putting his life on the line. She was used to risking her own life. But now...
Everything was different. And they both had to adjust to their new world.
His fingers tunneled lightly through her hair. His right hand was still over her stomach, and when one of the twins kicked, Gunner jerked in a startled reaction.
Then he laughed.
Most folks didn’t even think Gunner knew how to laugh.
They were wrong.
His laugh was rusty, rough, but perfect to her ears.
“Tell me what happened,” Sydney whispered. She’d heard about the attack outside of the EOD, too. Because of that shooting, the whole building was on lockdown. She had her tech team scanning the traffic videos of a ten-mile radius, hoping to catch sight of the shooter.
So far, they were turning up empty.
So far.
She wasn’t about to give up. She’d expand the search parameters and she wouldn’t stop looking until she found a clue that the EOD could use.
“He’s dead.” Gunner’s head tilted to the right. “The Executioner is gone.”
“Ian Gagnon.” He’d been the man given the deadly moniker of the Executioner, and she’d been the one to determine his real identity. The Executioner had once been a young boy, tossed onto the streets of Paris. No family, no one to ever step forward and claim him, the five-year-old had eventually been adopted...and given the name Ian by his new parents.
When he’d turned eighteen, Ian had vanished from his adoptive parents’ home. They’d never seen him again.
Now that he was dead, they never would.
“His men—the few that survived—were taken into custody by the authorities in Rio,” Gunner continued. “The hostage he’d taken...Genevieve Chevalier... We got her out in time.”
They’d gotten Genevieve to safety, and they’d gotten Cassidy Sherridan back to the U.S. Cassidy Sherridan interested Sydney. Cassidy’s file was classified, but not by any normal standards. As far as Sydney could tell, only Mercer had clearance to view Cassidy’s records.
It would seem that the woman was a very important asset.
“The hit tonight...” She exhaled slowly. “Was it on Cassidy or Cale?” It wouldn’t be the first time that an EOD agent had been targeted.
Not the first time.
Not the last.
“The bullet was meant for her.” Gunner sounded absolutely certain. He should be. No one knew bullets and sniper attacks quite like her Gunner. “The trajectory, the angle...if Cale hadn’t gotten her out of the way, Cassidy Sherridan would be dead.”
But Cale had saved her, and, based on the video footage she’d seen, the man had been enraged as he’d turned back to search for the killer.
Not such a cool, calm response for an agent.
“We need to find out who’s after her,” Gunner said. “That woman has secrets, and I don’t want those secrets causing an agent to get killed.”
Gunner didn’t trust Cassidy. She wanted to help him, but, well, this was the tricky part.
“Her files have a block on them in the system.”
Gunner arched a brow. His lips twitched the faintest bit. “Like you can’t get past that block.”
She could—in her sleep. But blocks were usually put up for a reason. “Maybe there’s something we shouldn’t know about her.” The last thing she wanted to do was draw any additional risk or attention to Gunner or herself.
Her hand slid over her stomach. When she felt the kick, Sydney didn’t jerk.
She smiled.
Gunner leaned forward to kiss her once more. But when he pulled away, a furrow appeared between his brows. “Cassidy Sherridan is under EOD protection. How can we keep her safe if we don’t know her secrets?”
Secrets could be a very dangerous thing, as they’d both learned.
And no matter how hard you tried, some secrets just couldn’t stay buried. “Maybe I should talk to Mercer.” He needed to know that she’d be tapping around in his system.
Or, rather, blowing his little security blocks to hell and back.
“Cale took her to the safe house.”
There was a darker note in Gunner’s voice. She raised her brows. “What is it?”
His lips tightened. “I don’t like this setup.”
Because he didn’t trust Cassidy.
“Cale is a part of our group,” Gunner said. “I don’t want him in danger because he’s falling for a pretty face. I want to know everything about Cassidy that I can.”
It wouldn’t be the first time that a well-trained agent was misled because emotions got involved in a case. Sydney liked Cale. She didn’t want him at risk, either. She didn’t want any of the EOD agents put in additional jeopardy. Their jobs were dangerous enough without any intimate betrayals.
She knew that from personal experience.
“I’ll find out exactly who she is,” Sydney promised. And she would. Either with Mercer’s help...
Or on her own.
Gunner laced his fingers with hers. “I missed you.”
And her heart had been breaking without him.
* * *
CASSIDY WAS ASLEEP in his arms. He’d known the exact instant that she’d slipped away, but he hadn’t tried to wake her up. He’d held her and enjoyed the feel of her body against his.
He wasn’t the type to just hold a woman in bed. That wasn’t him. His sexual encounters were usually fast, hot, with no strings attached.
He wasn’t looking for strings.
But Cassidy Sherridan came with miles and miles of strings attached.
Cale turned his head on the pillow, moving so that he could see her as the light of dawn spilled into the room.
No makeup, her hair a beautiful tangle, the woman was so gorgeous that she made him ache.
He’d taken her two more times during the night. Wanted more but he’d known she needed to rest. So when she’d fallen asleep, he hadn’t woken her.
But he had wanted her.
With her, he was wondering if he’d always want more.
A slow beeping reached him, and Cale frowned. That beeping was coming from their discarded pile of clothes.
Carefully, because he still didn’t want to wake her, Cale climbed from the bed and headed for the clothes. He reached down. Found Cassid
y’s phone. The photo flashing on the screen was of Genevieve Chevalier.
“Cale?”
Cassidy’s voice. Sleepy, husky, sexy.
Damn. Those strings were wrapping around him, tighter and tighter, with every second that passed.
The phone had stopped beeping.
He turned toward her. Cassidy pushed up in bed and smiled at him. “You look good in the morning,” she murmured as her eyes slid over him.
Not nearly as good as she did.
But then she frowned. “Was that my phone?” She clutched a sheet to her chest. She didn’t need to cover up on his account. “Has something happened?” A thread of fear leaked through the words.
Nothing new had happened. At least, nothing that he was aware of. Cale cleared his throat. “Your friend...Genevieve. She was calling.”
Her hand reached toward him, grabbing quickly for the phone. “I didn’t even get a chance to tell her goodbye!” Her fingers flew over the phone’s surface. “We raced away so quickly that I—”
His fingers closed over hers. “Don’t tell her where you are.” That was the agent talking, not her lover.
Cassidy stilled. Her lashes rose as she gazed up at him. “Why not? Genevieve is my friend. She isn’t a threat to me.”
Until he could learn more about the attack on her, Cale was viewing everyone as a potential threat. “You were targeted just hours ago. Right now, I’m not willing to risk your safety with anyone. Even your friend.” Actually, he didn’t even want her calling Genevieve back right then. What if the call was tracked? What if—
“Stop it.” Her voice came out low and cold. The ice—that had been the way Cassidy talked to him before. Back in the beginning. When he’d just thought she was a society queen and she’d thought he was an overprotective agent.
Only they were long past that.
Weren’t they? They’d spent a night burning up the sheets. They damn well should have been past it.
“Genevieve is my friend—the oldest friend I’ve got, and I’m calling her back. Something could be wrong. I have to check in with her.” She put the phone to her ear, and, a few seconds later, the call connected. “Genevieve?” A false brightness rang in Cassidy’s voice.
Genevieve might be her friend, or Cassidy might call the other woman that, but it was obvious to Cale that Cassidy wore a mask for the Frenchwoman. She was pretending—and that telling hitch was back in her voice.