He surprised her with his first words. “I never cheated on you.”
She shook her head. “I never for an instant believed you did.”
“Albert said there were rumors.”
“Rumors. Nothing more. I knew that.”
“Good. Fine.”
“Tell me about the job. Why you told me the lies about leaving the Agency.”
“I started looking into a traitor at EDJE about two years before I was taken.”
“Yes, Albert told me that.”
“I had worked my ass off without any substantive proof that there was a mole. We knew there was at least one, because of some ops that had gone bad and wouldn’t have without the leak of vital intel.
“When I found the bugs, I knew I’d been compromised. There was no other explanation. Someone knew I’d been digging. The decision to tell you I was leaving the Agency was impulsive…not well thought-out. Whoever’s behind this knew me too well to believe I’d just up and quit.”
And she had been so stupidly in love, so willing to believe that whatever he said was the absolute truth, she had never even questioned his words. If she hadn’t trusted him so completely, she too would have seen the lie.
A wave of humiliation rolled through her. Had the whole night been a lie? Those last hours together had gotten her through those terrible days when she’d thought Declan had died. They had comforted and consoled her, helped her to grieve. When she’d heard the horrible rumors, she had been able to push them aside, knowing without a doubt they weren’t true. That one night had lived in her memory as untainted and perfect. What if it had all been a lie?
“No. It wasn’t all a lie, Sabrina.”
She had spoken the last words aloud. “What wasn’t, Declan? That you weren’t leaving the Agency? Yes, it was.”
“I wanted to protect you. When I found the bugs, I knew you could easily become a target. I couldn’t risk that.”
She turned away from him, from the sadness in his eyes. What hurt the most? That he had allowed some of their most intimate moments to be heard by others or that he’d lied about leaving the Agency? She had been so excited, so thrilled that she would be seeing more of him. That he would be out of the dangerous game of covert ops.
She knew the truth and refused to hide it from him. Having people hear their intimate moments wasn’t comfortable, but that didn’t demean what it had meant. “If you had told me what you were doing, I would have helped. Maybe I could have made it more convincing.”
“Your reaction was perfect.”
Of course it was. She had trusted him as though his words were sacred. A thought flickered through her mind at his explanation that’d it’d been an impulsive and not well-thought-out plan. “When did you find the bugs?”
“While you were asleep. Stupid, but I hadn’t even considered I might’ve been compromised. I was going through my luggage, looking for my toothbrush. Once I found that one bug, I checked the rest of my stuff. Found three more.”
“So you didn’t plan it in advance?”
“No. I texted Albert, and we came up with the idea on the fly. Idiotic plan since it definitely didn’t work. I intended to tell you the truth as soon as I could.”
The fact that he hadn’t known about the bugs in advance helped a lot. She’d been in enough tough spots to know that you worked with what you had. Swallowing hard, she nodded. “I believe you. And I forgive you.”
“Albert told me there were a lot of rumors.”
She flicked her hand in a careless gesture. “They were ridiculous. Others might have believed them. I didn’t.”
“But they still hurt.”
She couldn’t deny that. You can’t listen to those kinds of words about someone you adored and not be hurt.
“They made me mad.” She shrugged. “It was nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
His mouth opened as if to argue. Yeah, he didn’t want her quick understanding or forgiveness. Tough shit.
Proving her thoughts, he took her right hand and folded it into a fist. “I’m glad you were smart enough to know I’d never cheat. But you have every right to be angry about the lies. Instead of the boxing bag you were beating the shit out of, hit me instead.”
“What?”
“I deserve it.”
She didn’t know whether to laugh in his face or kick him for being so infuriating. “I’m not going to hit you, Declan.”
“Come on. You know you want to.”
His eyes lit with laughter, his grin almost sent her to her knees. That was a Declan grin, charming, sweet, oh so sexy. Oh heavens, how she loved this man.
Telling herself not to say the words, telling herself she was a fool, didn’t stop her from saying, “You’re right. You do owe me one.”
Even though his eyes flared with surprise that she was actually going to take him up on his offer, he tilted his head a little to give her a better shot.
She shook her head. “A hit isn’t what I want.”
“What then?”
“A kiss. The last time our lips met, people were listening. No one can hear us now. Give me what I should have had that last day—a kiss without an audience.”
He was shaking his head before she could finish her request. “No. No way. You think I’m going to kiss you and forget everything you did.” He actually backed away from her.
She told herself to let it go. That he would only continue to say hurtful things if she pursued this outrageous request. Instead, she taunted him. “Scared, Declan?”
The icy glare from his eyes could have frozen a forest fire. He stood there for several seconds and then walked toward the door.
Sabrina closed her eyes. She had been stupid to even think that—
Hard hands gently cupped her face. Breath caught in her throat, she opened her eyes to see his searing, heated look. He lowered his head slowly. Even though this was what she’d asked for, she knew he was giving her time to pull away. That wasn’t going to happen. She’d dreamed about this for too long.
At last, his lips touched hers. Sabrina whimpered at the first soft stroke of his mouth. Beautifully familiar…delicious, perfect. Better than all her dreams combined.
Declan swallowed a groan at her taste. Hell, what was he doing? He shouldn’t want this. Shouldn’t want her. Somehow, the rest of his body disagreed with his brain. He drew her closer, yanking her so hard against him, she gasped. He took advantage of her open mouth and thrust his tongue deep inside.
Heat surged, pounded within him. Sabrina’s body pressed against his, and every cell inside him said to take her. He wanted her beneath him, taking him deep, screaming his name as she came. He wanted to explode inside her, taking the pleasure denied him for so long. He wanted to feel her pulsing around him, hear her cry in ecstasy as she came, over and over.
He wanted.
With a growl of need, he devoured her lips as his hands slid over her, then under her T-shirt. His fingers touched silken skin, and it was all he could do not to lay her on the floor and taste every inch of that succulent flesh. His hands slid down to her beautiful ass, and then holding her hips still, he pushed deep into her. Soft, warm, giving. Her mound providing the perfect home for his arousal, he ground himself into her, creating a friction and heat that could not be denied. Buzzing, roaring in his brain shut down all rational thought. He had to have her now…wanted her more than anything. He had to—
Declan jerked out of her arms, stumbling backward to get away from her. “Damn you, no.”
Beautiful face flushed, eyes dilated, glazed with need, she whispered his name.
He gave an emphatic, angry shake of his head. “No. Just no, Sabrina. You are not going to seduce me into believing you.”
“You think that I—” A laughing sob broke from her. “You think this was about some kind of coercion. That I would— You’re my husband. I—”
She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, and he could see she was trembling. Then, like a switch had been flipped, blankness washed o
ver her face. The passion in her eyes disappeared, replaced by a cold, contemptuous stare. Her lush mouth flattened into a sneer. “I forgive you for lying to me that night. I even forgive you for allowing those monsters to hear us making love. But I will never forgive you for this, Declan Steele. Never.”
She turned and marched out the door.
Chapter Thirteen
The drone of the plane beneath Noah’s feet was a familiar, comforting noise. Other than being with Samara and their kids, there was nothing he enjoyed more than to head out on a rescue mission with a team of operatives. He didn’t get a chance to go on as many ops as he wanted. This wasn’t one he felt he should miss.
His eyes shifted to the hollow-eyed, silent couple across from him. Whatever had happened between these two wasn’t good. Hard to believe they looked worse than they had when LCR had knocked down the doors in Idaho and rescued Sabrina. It was obvious that they hadn’t worked anything out. The wariness seemed to be even more heightened. But on both sides this time.
He had broken more rules for Declan Steele than he ever had for anyone. Rarely was a non-LCR operative invited to participate in a mission. And never had he approved an individual for an op who held a personal vendetta. Declan Steele had made it clear he had one goal—to find the men who had tortured him and make them talk. Saving the life of Barry Tyndall wasn’t a priority for him. In fact, Noah had grave doubts the man would go out of his way to save the lives of any of the operatives he was working with—even his own wife’s.
That kind of emptiness of the soul was worrisome. Even though he could understand and sympathize with how the emptiness came about—torture not only destroyed flesh and bone but the spirit as well—it was hard to know what to expect from the man.
Noah had the utmost confidence in his own operatives. They were highly trained, focused and determined. The mission of rescuing the innocent would always be their number one goal. He could depend on them no matter the circumstances. But what about Steele? If things got hairy, would he run or stay and fight? Would he watch the backs of others or just his own?
Shifting his eyes slightly, he observed the woman for whom he had broken his rules. Without a doubt, Sabrina was one of his most competent operatives. She had come to LCR with more than enough training to head up a mission on day one. She had fully embraced LCR’s philosophy and had told him more than once that the adrenaline rush of saving lives instead of taking them kept her sane.
And just like all his operatives, Noah trusted Sabrina’s judgment. She had vouched for Steele’s competency and skills. The man had once been her trainer at EDJE. She’d said he was ten times better than she was at hand-to-hand.
He’d seen for himself Sabrina’s skills. If Declan Steele was better, that was damn impressive.
When Noah had expressed doubts about Steele’s motives and agenda, she had made a promise…one that shouldn’t have surprised him but did. If push came to shove and Steele betrayed the team, she would put him down herself.
Noah believed her. He just hoped to hell it didn’t come to that.
Sabrina relaxed against the soft leather seat of the Gulfstream G650. There were a lot of differences in working for a government agency and working for Last Chance Rescue. The ride was one of them. Working for EDJE, she’d hitched rides on every kind of transport, not one of them this luxurious. Despite their desire to keep their ops low profile, LCR had some grateful and often wealthy donors.
The team on this mission was a larger number than usual—nine total. Two would stay behind, handling communications. When the time came for extraction, every second counted. The other seven would be on the raid, including her husband.
She knew she was taking on a huge responsibility in vouching for Declan. Especially when she’d seen little evidence of the man she had thought she knew better than anyone. A few days ago, she wouldn’t have vouched for him and still couldn’t say with any certainty that her trust was warranted, but she had to give him this opportunity. She just prayed that she wouldn’t be forced to keep her promise to Noah. If it came down to the lives of victims or her fellow operatives over Declan, she would have to live up to her word. She hoped with all her being that she wouldn’t have to make that choice.
Their altercation five days ago had left her in a turmoil of seething emotions. Sexual frustration and rage were not a good combination. If she hadn’t walked out the door when she had, without a doubt she would have given Declan the punch to his face he’d asked for.
Instead of punching him, she’d returned to the LCR gym and had gone after the punching bag like a lunatic. Days later, her hands were still bruised and aching. And she’d still been hurting.
All of that self-righteous anger had changed two days ago. Albert had called to speak with Declan. When she’d knocked on his bedroom door and hadn’t gotten an answer, she’d walked into his room. The sound of the shower running had carried her to his bathroom. Declan was just getting into the shower, with his back to her. She had seen the scars—deep welts, most likely from a whip and cane, were interspersed with burn scars that mottled his skin from his broad shoulders to the backs of his muscled calves. She had known he had been tortured. Had known about the scars—Dr. Lamar had told her they were bad. She had never imagined how bad nor how much hatred would rise within her at their sight. Not at Declan but at the people who had done this to him. Dammit, he did deserve vengeance. And she was going to do everything she could to see that he got it.
She had backed out of the room before he could see her. The need to throw up had warred with the need to sob out her fury and pain. She had done neither. She had simply continued on as if nothing had changed—even though everything had. If she had to leave LCR to do it, if she had to fight her own government, or even her own code of ethics, it didn’t matter. Declan would see justice—this she vowed.
Since that day, there had been an uneasy truce between them. His distrust was still there, lying between them like a huge, giant pit, but he’d refrained from accusations. She’d tiptoed around him as if he were a land mine waiting to detonate. It wasn’t comfortable, but after all the volatile emotions, the lack of rancor was a peaceful if edgy respite.
In between their prep work of packing for their trip and the daily briefings at LCR headquarters, she saw little of him. They lived together, but that consisted only of occupying the same apartment. They could have been strangers for all the intimacy they had between them.
“You got a minute?”
She turned to Aidan who’d been sitting several seats down from her. He now stood in front of her, and from the look in his eyes, she knew he wanted a private conversation. He’d been amazingly non-vocal about the civilian addition to their team. She had a feeling that was about to change.
Standing, she headed to the plane’s private quarters, knowing he followed her.
The sight of his estranged wife going off into a private meeting with another man shouldn’t have fazed him. Just because Aidan Thorne looked like some sort of Hollywood actor with his too-perfect face and muscular body should have meant nothing. Having an emotion remotely resembling jealousy should have been laughable. So why then did his gut feel as though he’d guzzled acid?
Sabrina had once told him he had the face of a poet and the body of a Greek god. That had both amused and embarrassed him, but there’d been a small part of him that had been secretly delighted at her words. What man wouldn’t want his wife to feel that way?
There was little of the man she had loved left, in looks or anything else.
He had seen her back out of the bathroom the other day. She had seen his scars, what those savages had done to him. His chest and stomach were almost as bad. For some unknown reason, they’d left his face alone, but the rest of his body had been their playground, where they’d played out their sadistic games.
So what if Sabrina had a relationship with another man? Like he gave a damn.
She was still angry about the kiss. It’d been a low blow, but the only thing he’d
been able to come up with to draw attention away from his driving need. He had desired her more than he even remembered. She was a great actress, so the hurt on her face could have been feigned, but no way in hell could a person turn ghost-white on command. She’d been devastated by his accusation.
Since that day, since those strong doubts had emerged, he’d been riddled with more, even fiercer, headaches. He didn’t know their cause, but if he’d mentioned them, without a doubt Sabrina would have hauled him back to the doctor. He couldn’t risk being put on medication that might dull his senses. Nor could he chance being taken off this mission. Over-the-counter pain meds would suffice. Nothing could get in the way of this op.
Other than Sabrina and maybe Mathison, his presence wasn’t appreciated or wanted by the other team members. He didn’t blame them. They were focused on rescuing—he was focused on vengeance. Even McCall, who’d had a long and frank discussion with him, wasn’t sure he’d made the right decision.
That was okay—he understood their reticence. And despite their doubts, he would help where he could. He owed them that. LCR was making it possible for him to hunt down his torturers. Declan would do his best to see that their mission was successful and without casualties.
“How many rescue missions have you been on?”
Declan turned to face Cole Mathison. Of all the operatives he’d met so far, this man seemed to be the most normal. Hard to believe that he had gone through something similar to what Declan had experienced.
“My first few years with EDJE, maybe six or seven. Our primary objectives were to destroy terrorists and prevent future attacks. Rescuing was sometimes a byproduct of our job but never our main focus.”
“What changed?”
“How’s that?”
“You said your first few years. Did you change jobs?”
“In a roundabout way, yes. I became the trainer for the most-promising recruits. I still worked ops but not as many. Last few years, I coordinated and oversaw missions.”
Running On Empty: An LCR Elite Novel Page 13