Tall, Dark and Dangerous Vol 1: Tall, Dark and FearlessTall, Dark and Devastating

by Suzanne Brockmann

  Mia’s gaze dropped to his chest, to that hidden place near his left arm where his sidearm was snugly ensconced in his shoulder holster. Frisco knew exactly what she was thinking. He was going to go meet Dwayne with that weapon Mia disliked so intensely tucked under his arm. And it was that weapon that would help make him ready for anything.

  She looked up at him. “Are you going to take that thing off when we make love tonight?”

  When we make love tonight. Not if. When. Frisco felt the hot spiral of anticipation. Man, he’d hoped, but he hadn’t wanted to assume. It was fine with him, though, if she wanted to assume that they were going to share a bed again tonight. It was more than fine.

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice husky. “I’ll take it off.”

  “Good.” She held his gaze and the air seemed to crackle around them.

  He wanted to reach for her, to hold her, kiss her. He could feel his body’s reaction to her nearness, to the soft curve of her lips, to the awareness in her eyes.

  He wanted Mia now, but that wasn’t an option—not with Tasha out sitting on the porch swing, rocking and singing a little song to herself. He tried to calculate the earliest he could get away with putting Tash to bed, tried to figure how long it would take her to fall asleep. Twilight was falling, and the cabin was already shadowy and dark. Even with no electricity, no bright lights and TV to distract the little girl, he had to guess it would be another hour at least before she’d agree to go to bed, another half hour after that before she was asleep.

  He tried to glance surreptitiously at his watch, but Mia noticed and smiled. She didn’t say a word, but he knew she was aware of everything he’d been thinking.

  “Do you know where Lucky keeps the candles?” she asked, stepping away from him. “It’s starting to get pretty dark.”

  He gestured with his head as he positioned his crutches under his arms. “In the cabinet next to the fireplace. And there’s a kerosene lantern around here somewhere.”

  “Candles will be fine,” Mia said, crossing to the cabinet. She threw him a very sexy smile over her shoulder. “I like candlelight, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” Frisco agreed, trying not to let his thoughts drift in the direction of candlelight and that big double bed in the other room. This next hour and a half was going to be the longest hour and a half of his entire life if he started thinking about Mia, with her long dark hair and her gorgeous, luminous eyes, tumbled onto that bed, candlelight gleaming on her satin smooth skin.

  Mia found a box of matches on the fireplace mantel, well out of Tasha’s reach, and lit one candle after another, placing them around the room. She looked otherworldly with the flickering candles sending shadows and light dancing across her high cheekbones, her full, graceful lips and her exotically tilted eyes. Her cutoff shorts were threadbare denim, and they hugged her backside sinfully snugly. Her hair was up in a braid. Frisco moved toward her, itching to unfasten it, to run his fingers through her silken hair, longing to see her smile, to hear her laughter, to bury himself in her sweetness and then hold her in his arms all night long. He hadn’t had a chance to do that after they’d made love in the early hours of the morning, and now he found he wanted that more than he could believe.

  She glanced at him again, but then couldn’t look away, trapped for a moment by the need he knew was in his eyes.

  “Maybe candlelight isn’t such a good idea,” she whispered. “Because if you keep looking at me like that I’m going to…”

  “Oh, I hope so.” Frisco moved closer, enough to take the candle from her hand and set it down on the fireplace mantel. “Whatever you’re thinking about doing—I hope so.”

  Mia’s heart was hammering. Lord, when he looked at her with such desire in his eyes, every nerve ending in her body went on red alert. He touched her lightly, brushing his thumb across her lips and she felt herself sway toward him, but he dropped his hand. She knew she shouldn’t kiss him—not here, not now. Natasha was outside and she could come in at any moment.

  She could read the same thoughts in Frisco’s dark blue eyes. But instead of backing away as she’d expected, he lowered his head and kissed her anyway.

  He tasted seductively sweet, like the fresh peaches they’d picked up at a local farm stand and sampled after dinner. It was a hard kiss, a passionate kiss, despite the fact that he kept both hands securely on the grips of his crutches, despite that the only place he touched her was her lips.

  It was more than enough.

  For now, anyway.

  He pulled back and she found herself gazing into eyes the color of blue fire. And then she found herself reaching up, pulling his incredible lips down to hers again. She was wrong. Once was not enough.

  “Are you gonna kiss again?”

  Mia sprang away from Frisco as if she’d been burned.

  She turned to see Natasha standing in the doorway, watching them. How long the child had been there, she couldn’t begin to guess. She felt her cheeks flush.

  Frisco smiled at Tasha. If he were the least bit perturbed, he was hiding it well. “Not right now.”

  “Later?”

  His gaze flickered to Mia, and she could see genuine amusement lurking there. “I hope so.”

  Natasha considered this, head tilted to one side. “Thomas said if you broke Mia’s heart, he was gonna kick you in the bottom.” She sat down haughtily on the couch—the perfect Russian princess. “He really said something else, but I don’t say bad words.”

  The muscles in the side of Frisco’s face twitched, but somehow he managed to hide his smile. “Well, Thomas and you don’t have to worry. I have no intention of—”

  “I made you a medal,” Tash told him. “For not saying bad words, too. And for not drinking that smelly stuff,” she added, almost as an afterthought, wrinkling her nose. She looked up at Mia. “Can I give it to him now?”

  “Oh, Tasha, I’m afraid we left it back in my living room. I’m sorry…”

  “It’s beautiful,” Tasha told Frisco, completely seriously. “You can have it when we go back. I’ll give you the salute now, though, okay?”

  “Sure…”

  The little girl stood up and snapped off a military salute that would have impressed the meanest, toughest drill sergeant.

  “Thanks, Tash.” Frisco’s voice was husky.

  “Dwayne kissed Mommy and gave her a broke heart instead of getting married,” she told them. “Are you going to get married?”

  Frisco was no longer unperturbed. “Whoa, Tash, didn’t we have this conversation already? And didn’t we—”

  “I would rather have a broke heart than Dwayne for a daddy,” Tasha announced. “Why is it dark in here? Why don’t we turn the lights on?”

  “Remember that I told you there wasn’t any electricity up here?”

  “Does that mean that the lights are broke?”

  Frisco hesitated. “It’s kind of like that—”

  “Is the TV broke, too?”

  The little girl was looking up at Frisco, her eyes wide with horror. Frisco looked back at her, his mouth slightly open. “Oh, damn,” he said, breaking her rule. “Sweetie, there is no television up here,” Mia said.

  Natasha looked as if the end of the world were near, and Frisco’s expression was nearly identical.

  “I can’t fall asleep without the TV on,” Tasha whispered.

  FRISCO FORCED HIMSELF not to overreact as he went into Tash’s bedroom for the third time in less than a half an hour. Yes, he’d seen Tasha in action on the night he’d accidentally turned off the TV set. She clearly depended on the damned thing to provide soothing background noise and light. She found it comforting, dependable and consistent. Wherever she’d been before this in her short life, there’d always been a television.

  But she was a five-year-old. Sooner or later, exhaustion would win and she’d fall asleep. True, he’d hoped it would be sooner, but that was life. He’d have to wait a few more hours before Mia was in his arms. It wasn’t that big a deal.


  At least that’s what he tried to convince himself.

  As he sat on the edge of one of the narrow beds in the tiny back bedroom, Tasha looked up at him with wide, unhappy eyes. He kissed the top of her head. “Just try to sleep, okay?”

  She didn’t say a word. She just watched him as he propelled himself out of the room on his crutches.

  Mia was sitting on one end of the couch that was positioned in front of the fireplace, legs curled up underneath her. Candlelight flickered, and she looked deliciously sexy. Carefully supporting his injured knee, he sat down, way at the other end of the couch.

  “You’re being very patient with her,” she said softly.

  He smiled ruefully. “You’re being very patient with us both.”

  “I didn’t come up here only for the great sex,” she told him, trying to hide a smile. She failed and it slipped free.

  “I had about two hours of sleep this morning, total,” he said, his voice low. “I should be exhausted, but I’m not. I’m wide-awake because I know the kid’s going to fall asleep, and I know that when she does, I’m going to take you into the other room, take off your clothes and make love to you, the way I’ve been dying to do again since you walked out of my bedroom this morning.”

  He held her gaze. His own was steady and hot, and her smile quickly faded.

  “Maybe we should talk about something else,” she suggested breathlessly, and he forced himself to look away.

  She was quiet for several long moments. Frisco could hear the second hand of her watch ticking its way around the dial. He could hear the cool night breeze as it swept through the trees. He heard the soft, almost inaudible creaking of the cabin as it lost the heat it had taken from the hot summer sun.

  “I’m sorry I left the medal Tasha made for you at home,” Mia finally said, obviously changing the subject. “We were in such a hurry, and I just didn’t even think. She spent a long time on it. She told me all about what happened when you dropped the milk.”

  Frisco couldn’t help but think about that new list that Mia had attached to his refrigerator—the list of things he could still do, even with his injured knee. He’d seen it for the first time as he’d been mopping up the spilled milk. It had taken the edge off his anger, turning his frustration into laughter and hot, sweet anticipation. Some of the things she’d written down were mind-blowingly suggestive. And she was dead right. He could do all of those things. And he intended to, as soon as he got the chance….

  He forced himself to focus on their conversation. Tasha. The medal she had made for him. But the little girl had said it was for more than his recently cleaned-up language. “I didn’t think she’d notice that I haven’t been drinking,” he confessed. “I mean, I haven’t been making that big a deal about it. I guess it’s kind of…sobering, if you’ll pardon the pun, that she did notice.”

  Mia nodded, her eyes gentle. “She hasn’t said anything to me about it.”

  He lowered his voice even further, so that if Tasha were still awake, she wouldn’t hear. “I ordered that couch.”

  Mia looked confused, but then recognition flashed in her eyes, and she clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “You mean the…?”

  “Pink one,” Frisco finished for her. He felt a smile spreading across his own face. “Yep. The other one was destroyed, and I figured what the hell? The kid wants it so badly. I’ll just make sure she takes it with her when she goes.”

  When she goes. The thought was not a pleasant one. In fact, it was downright depressing. And that was strange. When Tash first arrived, he could think of nothing but surviving, about making the best of a bad situation until the time that she would go. It hadn’t taken long for that to change. It was true that having the kid around made life more complicated—like right now for instance, when he desperately wanted her to fall asleep—but for the first time in years he was forced to think about something other than his injury. He was forced to stop waiting for a chance to live again, and instead actually do some living.

  The truth was, he’d adored Tasha from the moment she’d been born.

  “I helped deliver her. Did you know that?” he asked Mia.

  “Natasha?” she said. “I didn’t know.”

  “Lucky and I were on leave and he drove out to Arizona with me to see Sharon. She was about to have the baby, and we were about to be shipped out to the Middle East for God knows how long. She was living in this trailer park about forty miles east of Tucson. Twenty minutes after we arrived, she went into hard labor. The nearest hospital was back in Tucson, so we got her into my truck and drove like hell.”

  He smiled. “But Sharon never does anything the easy way. She must’ve had the shortest labor in history. We had to pull off the road because Tasha wasn’t going to wait.”

  As Mia watched, Frisco was silent for a moment. She knew he was reliving that event, remembering.

  “It was incredible,” he said quietly. “When that baby came out, it was… It was one of the high points of my life.”

  He shook his head, the expression on his face one of wonder and awe, even after all this time. “I’d never seen a miracle before, but I saw one that day. And when Lucky put that tiny baby in my hands… She was all red and wrinkly, and so alive—this little new life, only a few seconds old.”

  He glanced up at her, his smile tinged with embarrassment. “Sounds pretty corny, huh?”

  Mia shook her head, unable to answer him, unable to speak. It wasn’t corny. It was incredibly, heart-wrenchingly sweet.

  “I held Tasha all the way to the hospital,” he continued. “Sharon was out of it—which is pretty much her standard condition. So I wrapped that baby in my T-shirt and held her for what seemed like forever because she was crying, and Sharon was crying and the really stupid thing was that it was all I could do not to cry, too.” He was quiet for a moment. “But I finally got Tasha quieted down. I sang to her and talked to her, promised her that the hardest part of her life was over. She’d been born, and that’s always rough, but if I had anything to say about it, it was going to be a breeze for her from here on in. I told her I’d take care of her, and I’d take care of her mom, too.

  “And then we got to the hospital, and the nurses came out to take her away, and I didn’t want to let her go.” He forced a smile, and it made him look impossibly sad. “But I did.”

  He looked down at his injured knee. “And three hours later, the CO called in all of SEAL Team Ten, and Alpha Squad shipped out on an emergency rescue mission.”

  “That’s when you were wounded,” Mia said.

  It wasn’t a question, but he glanced at her and nodded. “Yeah. That’s when I was wounded.” He was clenching his teeth and the muscle in the side of his jaw worked. “I didn’t keep any of those promises I made to that little baby. I mean, I sent Sharon money, but…” He shook his head and forced another smile. “So I’m buying the kid a pink couch, hoping that’ll make up for all those years I wasn’t around.” His smile became more genuine. “Lucky was going to go over with some of the guys and finish getting the place cleaned up. He’ll be there to take delivery. I told him about the couch, but I’m not sure he believed me.” He laughed. “He’ll believe me when he sees it, huh?”

  Mia didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Every flicker of emotion on Frisco’s face, every glint of pain or sorrow or joy in his eyes, every word that he spoke, every word that he shared with her filled her heart with a feeling of longing so deep, she could barely breathe.

  She loved him.

  He was everything she didn’t need. His wounds were so deep and so catastrophic. She could handle his physical limitations. For her own self, she didn’t give a damn whether or not he needed a cane or crutches or even a wheelchair to get around. In her mind, his emotional limitations were far more crippling. It was his emotional baggage—the bitterness and anger he carried with him—that had the bulk and the weight to engulf her and drag her down, too.

  Still, despite that, she loved him.
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br />   Mia felt her eyes flood with tears, and she turned away, not wanting him to see. But he did, and he leaned forward, his eyes filled with concern.

  “Mia…?”

  She silently cursed her volatile emotions as she wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m…being silly.”

  He tried to make light of it. “It is pretty silly to cry over a pink couch.”

  “I’m not crying about the couch. I’m crying…” Mia made the mistake of glancing up into his eyes, and now she was trapped, unable to look away, held as much by the gentleness of his concern as by the fire and the intensity that was also in his gaze. “Because you’ve complicated my life beyond belief,” she whispered.

  He knew what she meant. He understood her unspoken message. Mia could see comprehension in his eyes, so she said the words aloud. “I’m falling in love with you, Alan.”

  Frisco’s heart was in his throat. He’d suspected that Mia cared, but there was a big difference between a vague suspicion and hearing the words directly from her mouth. Falling. In love. With him.

  Dear God, was she blind? How could she possibly be falling in love with this dried husk of a man he’d become? How could beautiful, lighthearted, joyful Mia possibly love someone who wasn’t whole?

  Her words should have elated him. Instead, he felt only despair. How could she love him?

  He could hear Mia’s watch ticking, its second hand traveling full circle again and again.

  Finally she stood and crossed to the screen door, gazing out into the night as if she knew how much her softly spoken honesty had thrown him.

  He had to say something. He knew from the tight set of her back that she wanted him to say something, anything, but he couldn’t think of a single response. “You’re crazy” seemed inappropriate, as did “You’re wrong.”

  “Frisco?”

  He turned to see Natasha standing in the hallway. Her nightgown was several sizes too large, and it hung almost all the way down to the ground. She was holding her stuffed bear by one of its raggedy arms. Her hair was tangled around her face, and her eyes were filled with tears.