Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Aaron's Honor (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Men of Mercy Book 8)

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Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Aaron's Honor (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Men of Mercy Book 8) Page 10

by Lindsay Cross


  Not going there. She did not care what happened to Aaron Speirs.

  Besides, she was just a mission, right?

  “Yeah, must be nice having someone care about you like that.” Bitterness crept into her voice but she didn’t care. “You got a shower? I really could use one and a change of clothes.”

  Aaron started to speak and she cut to the door before he got it out. She didn’t want to take this conversation any further down the road. “Never mind, I can find it on my own.”

  She went back into the living room and the pile of bags by the front door, resolutely ignoring the knot in her stomach. Sure it’d been nice having him care for her every need but that was over now. She could take care of herself. Just like always.

  “Wait up, I’ll show you.” Aaron’s arm brushed hers as he reached for the bags, leaving her already sensitive skin prickling with awareness.

  How pathetic, wanting a man who didn’t want her back. Oh sure, he was still a man and they were locked alone in a cabin together for an indeterminate amount of time. He’d probably take it if she offered, but when he completed his mission, he’d walk away and forget.

  And she knew deep down she’d be changed forever.

  “You coming up?” Aaron crossed to the stairs.

  Celine took a deep breath. Just have to keep it together for a few more minutes. He’d leave her alone in the bathroom and she could shut the door and fall apart.

  They landed in a large open bedroom, the wall of windows along the back opened to a breathtaking view of lush green leaves and a bright glowing sunset.

  A king size bed sat on the left wall, with a low handcrafted headboard and a gorgeous quilt covering. But that wasn’t what captivated her attention. Almost center in the wall of windows was a beautiful claw foot bathtub practically gleaming in the sunset. Candles stood sentry along the window sill, and a short bar stool in the shape of a rectangle stood next to a small shelf holding perfectly stacked towels.

  “How about a hot bath instead of a shower?” Aaron’s gaze cut to hers, his lips tugged up in a smile.

  “Yes, please.”

  He deposited the bags with the clothes he’d bought for her on the end of the bed and then turned on the water, holding his hand beneath to check the temperature. “If you’d really rather have a shower you can do that, too.”

  Celine followed his nod to a large tiled in shower with crystal clear glass walls in the corner opposite the tub. If he took a shower she’d be able to see everything, all of those sinewy muscles covering his back and chest. Water running down his smooth skin. Desire licked up her belly. Why couldn’t she put him from her mind? She must like torture.

  Suddenly Aaron was standing in front of her, his big strong hands cupping her shoulders and her mouth went completely dry. She licked her lips and his gaze followed her movement, his light brown eyes darkened to deep chocolate. Would his kiss taste as good as before? Or better?

  Aaron’s voice was deep and hoarse when he spoke, “Just yell if you need anything.” He squeezed her shoulders and then disappeared downstairs leaving her to stare in shock at his departure.

  No, his denial.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Fucking hands, shaking like a damn baby. He’d almost lost control and devoured Celine whole, even with her looking so helpless and tired. He knew she needed some time to rest, and he’d practically mauled her. His sisters would flay him alive. Celine needed to be pampered and cared for, not subjected to his basic desires because he couldn’t keep his dick under control.

  And he thought he knew everything there was to know about women. He’d always been so in control of his emotions, knew exactly what he wanted and when, but Celine took those notions and flipped them upside down. She put him on edge. He’d have to be more careful in the future. Try to put a little bit more distance between them.

  A derisive smile spread across his face at the thought. They were locked in a cabin over fifty miles from civilization, for at least the next week, keeping his distance would be difficult, if not impossible.

  He’d been so proud of himself, too, for refusing to install TVs or Internet. He wanted this to be secluded with no connection to the outside world. A place of solitude.

  He’d effectively removed any possible distractions, leaving him no real excuse to stay away from Celine.

  His cabin had been the perfect escape, the ultimate man cave. He’d never intended to bring anyone else here, let alone a female. In his experience with his sisters, girls left junk everywhere. They liked flowers and pink and sweet smelling perfume.

  His need for order and control had been ingrained from Basic training onward. The thought of anyone junking up his place left him feeling slightly ill.

  Unless it was Celine…so far he hadn’t found anything about her he didn’t like. Even when she flipped her switch and went all sassy mouth. He liked that she hadn’t let her kidnapping snuff out her spirit. And he liked how when she was vulnerable she automatically leaned on him. He liked holding her and inhaling her scent.

  Shit, he was in deep, really deep. There was absolutely no way he’d be able to control himself unless he worked off some of this energy.

  He prowled the kitchen like a caged tiger, checking cabinet doors for squeaky hinges and small appliances for faulty wiring. Nothing.

  The fireplace. There’d been something he wanted to do there. Oh yeah – there had to have been something he wanted to do with the fireplace. He stepped into the living room and knelt at the hearth.

  Celine splashed water upstairs and his attention went to the balcony, unable to look away, as he strained to hear every minute sound. Thinking about her running a soapy cloth over those perfect breasts. The material would be rough, abrade her nipples, they’d go all tight and pucker…

  Fuck. Aaron shot to his feet and crossed to the door, maybe he needed to chop some firewood. But an obscenely large stack mocked him from beneath the shed. Fuck it, there were always more trees to cut down.

  Aaron strode to the shed and grabbed his ax, going to work.

  An indeterminate time later the hard labor had done wonders to clear his mind. After splitting enough firewood to start a third stack, he felt back in control. Yes, Celine Latimer was different, he realized that the first time he saw her, but he could handle her. He could handle himself when he was around her. He could compartmentalize just like he did on a regular mission; tie her up nice and neat and put her in her own little box in the back of his mind. He’d deal with her at a distance, give her time to move on and give himself permission to rejoin TF-S and hunt down Mr. J.

  He swung the ax, feeling the satisfaction when he cleaved the log in two with one swing. Agent O’Keefe had managed to infiltrate one of the deepest layers of the Pentagon. And probably Eli and Daniel, if that was really their names, had managed to do the same. But how?

  Each access card was assigned its own code, and the code changed weekly, which meant that O’Keefe had gotten his hands on someone’s ID and security code within the week and infiltrated the Pentagon and managed to get to Celine. An impossible task for someone on the outside.

  He had to have gotten help from someone on the inside, and no low level techie either. The security codes he’d gotten his hands on required clearance from the upper echelon. It was possible there was a double agent, embedded from before Mr. J defected to Afghanistan. But more likely it was someone higher up, above the operative level, someone who could move about freely, who had clearance for the lower level. Someone other agents wouldn’t question.

  Someone like Senator Cotter?

  Aaron swung again, the log no match for the downward force of his ax. In his job he’d worked with all kinds of government agencies, but most closely with the CIA. They had their own black ops unit, labeled OGA, Other Government Agency. These units ran behind the scenes and generally answered to one commander who had the authority to run ops without asking permission from the President or the Department of Defense.

  But Mr. J had neve
r reached that level, he’d turned traitor before then, and Aaron had been out long enough now that he had no idea who ran those teams anymore. He needed to contact Agent K. The faster they solved this mystery, the sooner he could put some physical distance between him and Celine, and maybe even be there to capture Mr. J.

  He split another log, embracing his exhausted muscles. He’d work it all out. He’d help Agent K figure out the mole, stay busy working around the cabin to keep his hands off Celine and then he’d be back in Afghanistan, doing what he’d been trained to do.

  Aaron propped the ax on its head, resting his forearm on the handle as he savored the feeling of being in control.

  The back of his neck tingled and he spun, dropping the handle of the ax when he saw Celine. Sweet Jesus.

  The sunlight basked her in a dusky glow, her freshly washed hair still damp, her hot pink biker shorts playing peekaboo with the hem of her T-shirt. Her T-shirt – Aaron went hard as a rock. The lighting basically highlighted the outline of her nipples through the thin white material. He watched them bead and stiffen under his gaze.

  Before his mind had a chance to react, his feet had carried him to her. He stopped right beneath her on the deck, just below eye level. Aaron stared straight ahead, using every ounce of willpower not to look at her chest, and instead focused on the frantic pulse at the base of her slender neck.

  “Did you have a good bath?” He could no more help the rough edge to his voice than the fact he was about to bust the zipper on his pants.

  “Yes, it was perfect.”

  Her voice did things to him, made him wonder what she would sound like screaming his name. Aaron cleared his throat. “Good. Do you need anything?”

  His ability for rational thought evaporated as he inhaled her fresh scent. So sweet.

  “I couldn’t find you inside and I heard the noise out here, so I came to see what was going on.” She bit her bottom lip and nearly took him to his knees.

  Think about something, anything but the way her nipples would taste. “Yeah, I was running kinda low on firewood.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked a rock.

  “Does it get really cold up here?”

  “Only in the winter, and honestly it’s not so bad. Two or three months, that’s it.”

  “I guess, I thought, you know all the wood…” She gestured to the pile behind him.

  “Oh, well, I’m not out here that much so I like to be prepared,” he finished lamely. He had enough firewood now to last two winters easy and that was burning wood all day, too.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the bruise on her arm a stark reminder of his goal. Celine was delicate. Fragile.

  So far her kidnapping and near murder hadn’t pushed her over the edge, but if he didn’t suppress his lust, he might be the one to break her.

  “You should go back inside. I need to finish up here and then I’ll come change your bandage.”

  Her blue eyes shadowed and he hid his cringe. His tone had been harsh, he’d meant for it to be, for both their sakes.

  “Fine. Try not to chop off a leg.”

  Aaron watched her storm into the house with a sigh. He rarely hated his job, but this was one of those times he’d give anything to have been normal.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “What the hell happened in here?” Aaron’s gaze swept the mess in the bedroom, shock locking him to the top of the staircase.

  Celine bolted upright, blinking hard, in the middle of his bed surrounded by clothes and bags and toiletries. “What?”

  “Did someone break in while you were napping?” He took a step and faltered. His bedroom had been turned into a war zone for dirty towels and clothes. The perfect order demolished.

  Her pale blond eyebrows dipped down. “No.”

  “So some little elves stole into the bedroom and destroyed it?” His grip tightened on the banister.

  “Are you feeling okay? Did you hit yourself in the head with the ax or something?”

  Aaron just shook his head and bent down to pick up one of his new pairs of shorts discarded on the floor. He dangled it from his fingers. “These were clean an hour ago.”

  Celine scooted to the end of the bed and sat up on her knees. Damn if she wasn’t sexy sitting there in that t-shirt.

  “They still are clean, at least if you don’t touch them too much with your dirty hands.”

  “They’ve been on the floor.” Yeah, he was picky about his shit, this was his home. His domain. Overseas, when they were in the suck, he didn’t have the luxury of being clean or neat, he had to live out of a duffel bag in the desert half the time with just a small tent for shelter, and that was if he was lucky.

  But not here.

  “Is your floor dirty?”

  Aaron fisted the shorts. “Only from us walking on it.”

  “So what’s the problem then?” Celine smirked and dropped down to the side, the plastic department store bags crinkling beneath her. The position made her shirt ride up, her hips more curvaceous as the pink shorts molded to her fine ass.

  Aaron threw his shorts on the bed right next to her arm. He waved a hand, gesturing to the absolute chaos. “This is the problem.”

  “Looks fine to me.” She shrugged and picked up a pair of boxers, twirling them around her finger.

  She’d lost her mind. That was the only answer. He couldn’t argue with her. Focus. “I need to take a shower, why don’t you go downstairs, I unpacked the food already if you want a snack.”

  She rose from the bed, rolling her hip like a siren and strolled across the room. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.” And then she blew him a kiss, leaving him to stare after her in shock.

  He shook his head and turned back to his room. Her towel lay on the floor in a heap by the sink, toothbrush and toothpaste crammed behind the faucet knobs. A wash cloth hung over the edge of the tub, water dripping onto the floor. Everywhere he looked, his domain had been disturbed. Aaron took a deep breath and counted to ten. He’d never seen anything like it, not even Beth, his younger sister, who’d gotten in trouble her whole life for not cleaning her room, could touch Celine Latimer.

  He wouldn’t be able to think straight until the mayhem was righted, but he couldn’t touch their clean clothes with dirt covering most of his body. Aaron carefully picked through the piles on the bed and located his body wash and boxer briefs and then got in the shower. He had to lay down some house rules, just like they did in the barracks. Each man had his own job, she just needed a little direction.

  Finally clean, Aaron pulled on a pair of gym shorts and faced the challenge. He attacked the dirty clothes first, throwing them in the wicker basket next to the shower. Next he folded the clothes, separating them into T-shirts and shorts and underwear. As he sorted them, he kicked something under the end of the bed and he bent down to pull out a discarded bag. A quick look inside revealed the small travel blow dryer and straightener still in their packages, along with multiple makeup items the girl at the counter had helped him pick out. Celine must’ve completely missed this in her attempt to destroy his room.

  Deciding they might come in handy later, he put the items up in the vanity and then finished cleaning the room. Now that the room had been cleaned, he could put in that call to Mr. K, check in with Merc, and then change Celine’s bandage. After that, he had no idea.

  XXX

  Celine yanked the loaf of bread from the counter and tossed it on the island, her tummy growling as she went to the refrigerator and pulled out the ham, lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, and mustard.

  Crazy man. What was his deal? It wasn’t like she’d destroyed his bedroom on purpose, she’s just unpacked. Did he expect her to keep everything he’d bought in the bags?

  She tilted the loaf of bread up and emptied a few pieces on her plate. Next she opened the bag of ham, inhaling the mouthwatering smell. Food. She never appreciated food so much in her life.

  This sandwich would be the biggest, bad ass san
dwich on planet earth.

  Once she finished stacking it high, she poured on the mustard, slapped on the top piece of bread and took a big bite, her eyes rolling back in pleasure.

  She’d gone so long on stale water and scraps her stomach had shrunk and the doctor at Mr. Mankel’s, or Mr. J’s, palace had forbidden her more than small, incremental meals at a time. And the food at the hospital…well, yuck. But this, now this was a real American sandwich and she would savor every last bite.

  She heard the shower cut off and Aaron’s footsteps cross the floor. After the fifth pass back and forth, she shrugged and went back to eating. He could pace a hole in the floor for all she cared. She took another bite, cherishing the explosion of flavor from the vine ripened tomatoes, and sagged against the counter. She’d take her time with this one and then when she finished, she’d make another.

  “I’ve got an idea. I think we need to look higher than we originally thought. O’Keefe couldn’t get that kind of access without some serious weight from the inside.” Aaron’s voice drifted down the stairs through the open door.

  “Exactly. You handling it okay?”

  Celine took another bite and carried her sandwich to the doorway, completely unashamed to be eavesdropping. This was her life too.

  “Roger. I’ll wait for your call.”

  The bed creaked and then he spoke again. “Merc, brother, any luck on finding your uncle?”

  Uncle? Who was Merc?

  “I’m on a secure line too. Shit. I thought for sure having his alias, Jack Mankel, would give you a lead. What about Caroline? Any traffic with her?”

  The bread turned to dust in her mouth and Celine had to force herself to swallow the last bite.

  “Any idea on a time line?”

  She heard Aaron’s footsteps as he began to pace again. “Me, too, brother. I’d give anything to see that traitorous murderer finally gets what he deserves. I still dream about Shane taking that bullet.”

 

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