The Titan Series 1-3 Boxed Set

by Cristin Harber - The Titan Series 1-3 Boxed Set

  Should have stuck with your avoid-Jared-Westin plan.

  When she closed her eyes, the shock on his face played over and over again. I’ll bet that man has never been thrown out of a bedroom, certainly not after showing off his moves. His muscles had muscles. His scruff. His chest hair. His hands. She shook her head, but the images kept coming. Jared was… substantial, in every conceivable way.

  Her X-rated thoughts were knocked clear across the bathroom by another round of aches in her chest. And she had a substantial thing for him. No one else should touch him, kiss him, or do him. She’d just found out that she didn’t have one jealous bone in her body, but rather, her entire skeletal system simmered with jealousy.

  Jared wasn’t a one-girl guy, and she didn’t desire to be that pathetic lady trying to change a man.

  “I hate you, Jared Westin,” she said to the empty bathroom. Shut up. Playing pretend all alone was a bad habit. The only time she’d ever felt like this was when she’d almost lost GUNS. Other than her sister, that gun range was the closest thing she had to a significant relationship. It’d been there her whole life. Her dad had lost it in a poker game, the thieving bastard. And her lying mother had never been strong enough, or around enough, to tell him to get his ass in line.

  It was a miracle Sugar had rescued GUNS. Really, it was a miracle neither she nor Jenny had morphed into their mother.

  So GUNS was her home-life substitute. Her safety and security. After she used Titan to help her exact revenge on Kip, she would go back to her comfort zone.

  The bath water had cooled. Sugar got out, dried off for the second time that day, and slipped on designer pajamas. The pink, silky fabric was freshly laundered and smelled like flowers. She made another mental note to thank Nicola.

  Her doorbell rang. Hotel rooms have doorbells? Only in Titan land.

  Sugar padded to the door and checked the peephole. Nicola. She threw the door open. “Asal!”

  The little girl jumped into her arms.

  Nicola smiled. “Hey, girl.”

  Asal planted a wet kiss on Sugar’s cheek and wrapped her arms around her neck.

  “Hey, Nic.” She hugged Asal back. “Hi, you. I missed ya.”

  Nicola walked into the foyer. “This little girl’s had a lot to say. Some things about the hellhole you guys pulled her out of, but mostly about you. Think she thinks you’re some kind of angel.”

  Sugar laughed. “Hardly.”

  “Yup, that’s what I said. She keeps insisting, though. The UN attaché might think you’re a hallucination or an imaginary friend.”

  Sugar set her down, then patted her head.

  Asal said something to Nicola, who nodded. “Asal’s English is pretty good, considering. But she’s been working on this for you.”

  The little girl beamed. “Thank you, Sugar. You saved me.”

  “Of course, sweetheart.” Sugar knelt, smoothing Asal’s combed hair and tucking it behind her ears. The little girl beamed, and Sugar’s heart exploded with pride and hope. Then she stood and focused on Nicola. “Were you able to find out anything about the husband?”

  Nodding, Nic said, “Hadn’t touched. Actually, never met her. Her brothers had died in an explosion, mother in childbirth, father in the field. An uncle shouldered the responsibility of raising her, but wanted her gone. Traded her, like a dowry, for some grain and a goat.” She looked at Asal. “Earmuffs.”

  Asal wrapped her hands over her ears.

  “I figured being around Titan, we needed to watch out for what she hears.” Nicola scrunched her shoulders. “Anyway, I want to kill the motherfucker. A goat?”

  A quick gesture, and the earmuffs were dismissed. They walked into the living room. Asal babbled in another language, and Sugar loved the sound. Letters and words, soft and lyrical, twirled through the air.

  Nicola coughed, suppressing a giggle, and nonchalantly tossed her head the direction of the floor.

  Goddamn condom wrapper. Sugar’s cheeks flushed, and if Asal weren’t nearby, she would’ve cursed Jared’s name.

  “I see Jared’s stopped by.”

  Sugar saw no point in lying. The ride from Afghanistan had more than clued her in to the topic du jour. Everyone thought they were knocking boots. Why deny it now that they had?

  Nicola said something Sugar didn’t understand, followed by a slow English version, complete with hand motions. “Wash your hands. We will eat soon.” Asal ran down the hall, and Nicola pierced Sugar with a stare. “I knew it. And I so want the details.”

  “Nothing to say.” Sugar picked at a cuticle.

  “Bull-flippin’-shit.” Nicola snorted, her hands on her hips. “There’s a condom—in your living room.”

  Sugar stepped over the metallic wrapper, as if hiding it with her foot would make the conversation disappear, as well.

  “Spill, Sugar.”

  She rubbed her temples. Jared was her headache even when he wasn’t the problem. The foil scratched the sole of her foot. If he hadn’t left that there, the conversation would be a non-starter. It was his fault. She rubbed her temples again. “First and last time. Fun and done. Nothing to say other than that.”

  “First time…” Nicola’s nose wrinkled in thought. “On the floor of your living room?”

  “We weren’t going for the most romantic of moments.”

  “I’d say.” Nicola did a piss-poor job at hiding her grin.

  Sugar bent over, grabbed the wrapper, and pitched it. “Thanks for the clothes. They’re—”

  “Oh no, no. You’re not getting out of this convo that easy.”

  She shrugged, feigning a bored expression. “Seriously, nothing to spill.”

  “Details. Give me at least one juicy detail. Don’t make me beg.” She steepled her hands in prayer.

  Shit. Shit. Shit. “I don’t know.”

  Nicola wasn’t letting it go, and she prompted, “The man who considers himself the master of everything was… Work with me here, Sugar. I’m dying.”

  “Master of everything?” Sugar rolled her eyes. “Of course he does.”

  “And does he live up to the self-titled moniker? He’s…” She rolled her hands, urging Sugar to continue.

  Before she could stop, her cheeks flushed again. “He’s impressive. I’ll leave it at that. Good enough?”

  “Hell no.” Nicola pouted.

  “What do you want?”

  “A onetime afternoon romp? That’s it? What did he say? What’d you do?”

  Sugar chewed on her lip, wondering how she could put it. “I politely said thanks and asked him to leave.”

  Nicola’s jaw hung open. Her eyes didn’t blink. She didn’t make a sound.

  Sugar tugged at the hem of her pajama shirt. “Come on, Nicola. Don’t be so shocked.”

  Her jaw closed, then dropped again. With a shake of the head, she clasped a hand over her mouth. “You kicked him out. Oh my God. I want every last detail.”

  “That sounds harsh, and don’t you think this is a little personal?”

  “Are you kidding me? You’ve slept with Cash. We’re beyond that.”

  “Nic! That’s not fair. We ended before he knew you. Met you again. Whatever. Cheap shot, Nicola, cheap shot.”

  Asal came out of the bathroom, displaying freshly scrubbed hands. She was adorable in her clean clothes, and she’d tied her hair into a ponytail.

  Nicola gave another foreign-tongued spiel and then its English translation. “Go to the kitchen. Find a snack.” She looked at Sugar. “You have food in there, right?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Asal was in and out with two bags of dried fruit and nuts.

  “Guess so.”

  She skipped to the couches, grabbed a remote, and found cartoons on the flat screen. “Kid adapts fast.”

  Nodding, Nicola got back to it. “Rewind back to where you kicked his tight ass out of the room, and go. God, I would have sold my guns off to see that.”

  “He’s a manipulative bastard.”

&
nbsp; “Not a news flash.”

  “Well, he wasn’t one hundred percent upfront on some things.”

  Nicola shrugged. “Nature of everyone’s favorite prick.”

  “You’re not helping.”

  “You’re not spilling, but tell me how I can help.”

  Sugar wanted to scream. “I meant you’re making this complicated. There’s nothing to help. It’s done. It was fun. And I don’t want to do it again.”

  “Then why are your eyes bloodshot?”

  Maybe she should’ve checked the bathroom for Visine. It had everything else she could want. If Nicola Garrison knew she’d had a cry-fest in the Jacuzzi, Sugar would never live it down—or forgive herself for being unable to control her emotions.

  Nicola softened. “Look, Sugar. I don’t have many girlfriends. Just one at the CIA. Hazard of the job, I guess. We don’t work with a lot of women. I could use a second friend. Hell, you might need a first.”

  “I don’t have friends. They’re baggage.” Though I do have a sister and never should have e-mailed her about Jared. She had wanted to call her sister after Jared left, but she’d opted for a bath and avoided an explanation of the all-alpha idiosyncrasies that made up the Master of the Universe.

  Ignoring the jab, Nicola continued, “You don’t have… typical relationships. But I think Boss Man’s doing a number on you, in a good way. It might help you figure it out if you talked about it, like, chick to chick.”

  Sugar crossed her arms, her defenses going into high gear. Battle guards up. Shields at the ready.

  Nicola tried again. “Impressive, huh? Somehow, I had no doubt, but don’t tell Cash I said that.”

  Sugar tried to imagine gossiping about Jared, a man who thought he was God. After all, on the floor, she’d moaned both, “God” and “Jared.” Guess it’d be easy enough to get confused.

  Unfolding her arms, Sugar mumbled, “I’ll try the friend thing on a trial run.”

  “Trial run.” Nicola’s laughter bubbled. “There’s a club downstairs. I think you’re in need of a couple drinks. Asal has to spend the night with the UN attaché tonight, so it’s game on for us.”

  Sugar studied the woman who was volunteering to be her friend. It wasn’t that she couldn’t make friends. She had plenty of GUNS gals to kick back with, but none she trusted. Still, she walked to the counter, took the folded paper, and handed it to Nicola.

  Nicola glanced at the paper, then her. “This is…”

  “An e-mail between me and my sister. She’s watching GUNS for me while I’m gone.”

  The paper crinkled as Nicola unfolded it. In the background, Asal was on her feet, singing the SpongeBob SquarePants theme song in English. Smart kid.

  Nicola read the e-mail and then folded it, shaking her head. “Nosy. They act like they’re not. But those men couldn’t keep their noses out of private crap if it killed them.” She bit her lip in thought. “But if it were my guess, Parker hacked into your e-mail to pull details on the GSI project, saw this, and decided Boss Man needed a kick in his impressive ass.”

  Sugar flinched at the invasion of her privacy. “I don’t even know Parker, and he’s up in my business.”

  “Parker’s the most well behaved of the bunch. That’s not saying much, but he’s discreet. He’s the tech guy. Can hack into any system, phone, computer, whatever, if you gave him the right tools. But Jared had this on him? That says a lot.”

  “Yeah, that he’s a dick. Which I already knew. So no new revelations. The sex was hot, and hopefully, we got it out of our system.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Christ, everyone keeps calling me a liar.”

  “Don’t lie, and maybe that’ll stop.”

  Sugar walked over to a barstool and leaned on it. The truth blows. Her feelings were written in that e-mail, and she’d teared up after Jared had left and she had kicked over a chair.

  She cleared her throat. “Jared needs to be a one-time rodeo. He and I… we think the same. Or at least we did. Then something happened up here.” She tapped her temple. “And I wanted more.”

  “Actually, it may’ve happened here.” Nicola tapped her chest. “What if he wants more, too?”

  “Impossible.” That wasn’t the Jared she knew.

  “Then why’d he run across the globe with that e-mail?” Nicola asked.

  “No idea.”

  “You should have seen him when he found out you were captive number two.”

  Sugar shook her head. “He was—”

  “There was a clear transition from Jane Doe to Lilly Chase. He threw a phone. Threatened to call the White House. May’ve stockpiled nuclear weapons. The man was… a beast. Possessive, protective. Hell, he went all primal. For you.”

  For me? No way. She had a strong urge to sit down.

  Both their phones buzzed at the same time. Sugar almost didn’t recognize the ring since she’d had her phone for only a few hours.

  Nicola pulled hers from next to her hip piece. “Staff meeting in Jared’s suite. One hour.” Her smile went from earring to earring. “I can’t wait.”

  An anxious punch made Sugar consider calling in sick. “This is going to be awful.”

  Asal walked over with empty bags.

  Nicola tossed her hand. “Nah. Entertaining maybe, but not awful. Besides, no one’s thinking about you two right now. They’re on Titan baby watch. Now that’s funny. Let’s grab food with Asal before we win an award for worst custodians of the year.”

  That’s right. Baby Winters. Boy or girl? And what would a Titan guy name his kid?

  Spike. Killer. Blade. Guessing the name would’ve been fun, but baby hoopla wasn’t her thing. Besides, the nervous need to throw up surpassed her curiosity. She had sixty minutes until she faced off with Jared again.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Sugar and Nicola dropped Asal with her UN babysitter and made the walk of doom to Jared’s suite. Nicola raced to the door, tugging her along while Sugar bit her freshly glossed lip. Avoiding Jared was high on her agenda, but since that mission was impossible, she at least wanted to look like she could care less. A cherry shine on her kisser and another swipe of mascara did that.

  Still, the carpet was quicksand, and her every step was weighted, bringing her closer to what should be no big deal. The churning in her gut had nothing to do with dinner. She entered at her own risk, knowing that acting casual would be unbearable after their roll on the floor.

  The door was propped open, and the whole crew was there, minus Winters and Jared.

  Brock, Rocco, Roman, and Cash sprawled over a couch. Nicola beelined to Cash, who grabbed her by a belt loop and toppled her onto his lap. Brock said something about getting a room. Rocco and Roman groaned, and Nic whispered into Cash’s ear.

  Jared walked in from the kitchen, beer in hand. “Princess,” he said, nodding to Nicola. “Nice of you to join us.”

  Sugar smirked. Whatever, we weren’t late.

  Nicola’s smile was too big and too telling. “Boss Man.”

  He grunted, eyeing Nicola’s toothy grin, then stiffly turned to her. “Sugar.”

  “Jared.” She sounded as rigid as he looked. Alrighty. That wasn’t uncomfortable or anything. Her heart beat a drum line in her ears. Loud enough everyone should’ve heard. But they didn’t. The awkward silence lingered, until Rocco burped. Thank the Lord.

  She sat next to Brock, who, as far as she could tell, hadn’t done the Jared-Sugar double take.

  Jared cleared his throat and started the briefing, which was standard stuff—a recap of why Sugar and Kip Pearson were sent to check up on the outpost police. He gave them her update on GSI’s intermixing of Afghani police and Taliban forces.

  Turning from the group, Jared asked, “What else you got for us, Parker?”

  Parker? Her cheeks felt warm. Parker had gone through her personal items. He knew more than he should. Even if she weren’t hyper-private, which she was, he’d crossed a big hairy line.

  A voice from her blind s
pot startled her. She turned to a flat screen. A man who looked like he should’ve been lumped on the couch beside the other Ramboes chewed on the end of a pen. Big muscles. Chiseled jawline. Not what she thought of when she thought hacker.

  He pulled the pen from his mouth. “Satellite images showed GSI arrived about six hours after Sugar was pulled out. They loaded up some shit and firebombed the place. Looks like they had a daisy-cutter do a flyby. Nothing left but rocks and smoke.”

  Jared walked toward the flat screen, taking a long swig of beer. “Makes sense. Destroy the evidence. Nothing to report back.”

  Parker cocked a half-grin. “Except what I can dig up.”

  “Then dig, my man. I want enough GSI-coated evidence to start a goddamn Congressional hearing.” He finished his beer, then rubbed the bottle in his palms.

  Sugar could see the wheels turning behind his hardened face. The same scruff from earlier covered his cheeks. He wore the same uniform—a tight black shirt and tactical pants. It poured over his chest, melted to his package, and cupped his buttocks. She had a soft spot for looks that could, would, and had killed.

  “Sugar,” Jared snapped.

  No way does he know what I’m thinking. No freakin’ way. Right? She tried to stay stonefaced. “Yeah?”

  The intensity of his black eyes almost knocked her out of her seat. They raked over her, making his scrutiny obvious to everyone in the room, and he certainly wasn’t assessing her in any professional capacity. Score one for the cherry-red lip gloss.

  “GSI’s gonna want you dead.” The certainty in his voice would’ve shaken her if she hadn’t already known she was marked for six feet under.

  “I know.” She attempted an unconcerned shrug. “If they’re all on the take, then I’m collateral damage.”

  “Not yet, you ain’t, baby cakes.”

  She narrowed her eyes, again, not thrilled with him using the nickname in front of his team. “No shit, J-dawg. I don’t intend to be.” The Titan team watched them like a tennis match going back and forth. How about this for a point? “Tell us your plan to take down GSI, and I’ll tell you mine to kill Kip.”