“I hate the dark.”
She stumbled and he caught her. “Not much farther.”
“I can make it.” Determination like steel in her voice.
“Never doubted it.”
He pulled her closer and negotiated the sidewalk. Around them, couples and families meandered under the Christmas lights. He watched a father balancing a small boy on his shoulders as the man’s wife laughed beside them.
What would it be like to have such a normal life?
Cal tore his gaze off them. What was the point of thinking of things that had long ago become impossible?
By the time they reached Oxford Circus, Mara was losing her battle against the damage his mental blast had done. She sagged against him, her eyes fluttering closed.
He shook her. “Stay with me. Just until we’re on the train.”
An unsteady nod. Her eyes were unfocused.
He negotiated the endless steps down. No one even cast a worried glance at Mara’s limp form. Londoners kept their heads down and walked fast.
Finally he dragged her onto the Tube. He found a pair of empty seats and pulled her tight against him. “Sleep.”
Her head collapsed against his shoulder. Dark lashes fanned over her pale cheeks. He let himself press his nose to her hair, drew in her scent.
They’d go to Indonesia and free Cate Hartmann.
But after the mission, it was safer for everyone that he stayed away from Mara Ross. If he got too close, she’d reawaken his emotions and weaken his control.
And if Cal lost control, there’d be a monster loose in the world far worse than Gabriel Leven.
Chapter Three
Mara woke to the distant sound of lapping waves.
Disorientation was sharp. Where the hell was she? She’d been in London. Hadn’t she? She sat up in a big bed and pushed her tangled hair off her face. Drew in a deep breath of warm sea air.
Haven.
She lifted the pale blue sheets to her nose. The scent of dark, spicy male.
Callahan.
Memories tumbled back. She pressed a finger to her temple. Her head felt fine. Then she fingered the soft, far-too-big T-shirt draped over her.
She got out of bed, surprised to find her legs were a little unsteady. She locked her knees. They had a mission to plan. While she’d been sleeping, Cate had been going through God knows what.
After a quick trip to the bathroom, Mara went looking for Callahan. No doubt he was working. The man was always on a call or in a meeting. Working to ensure the security of Haven and its residents.
Driven by an urge she refused to dwell on, she padded barefoot down the hall. The office door was open and she leaned a shoulder against the jam.
He sat at a large desk, dark head bent over a laptop. A stack of folders sat beside it. A dark gray T-shirt stretched over his chest. Coal-black hair, not short but not too long, hung forward, casting his angular face in shadow.
Behind him, doors swung open onto a deck with a stunning view. Bright-green palm trees lined a hill that swept down to a white sand beach curving along the azure waters of the Great Barrier Reef. It was breathtaking.
But her gaze was drawn to the man.
Power radiated from him. That, added to the dark edge he carried, intimidated most people—if it didn’t outright scare them. She tilted her head. Callahan could do things no other mind raider could. It frightened a part of her and she hated that feeling of vulnerability.
But a part of her was intrigued.
Who was she kidding? All aspects of the man intrigued her. From the first time she’d met him, she’d been drawn to him. Like a young girl tempted to touch a naked flame.
He was one-hundred-percent dedicated to the island to the exclusion of anything else. She’d wondered a few times why he’d created this place. He liked his solitude, so why create a sanctuary where anomalies could live together?
Without warning, he looked up. His dark eyes burned into her.
They stared at each other, neither of them willing to break the silence. His gaze travelled down her body to her bare legs, then back up. She fought back a shiver.
Finally, he leaned back in his chair. “How are you feeling?”
“You let me sleep while Cate is a prisoner.”
He held up a hand. “You were unconscious and needed time to recover. You should still be in bed.”
“I’m fine.” Mara strode forward and pressed her hands to the desk. “When do we go after her?”
“I’ve been gathering intel on Leven’s plantation.”
That soothed some of Mara’s guilt. “Show me.”
Callahan inclined his head and she skirted the desk. Leaning over his shoulder, she studied the screen. An aerial photo showed a group of buildings nestled amongst tropical vegetation.
“I’ve got people doing some digging, but it looks like you were right. While the place does legitimately export cocoa, it’s also a front for human trafficking. Mostly young Indonesian girls who end up in the sex trade.”
Mara gripped the back of Callahan’s chair. God, Leven’s depravity knew no bounds. The crime lord did what he wanted when he wanted with no regard for the people he hurt and destroyed.
“From the satellite images, most of the traffic is in and out of this area.” He pointed to the screen.
She leaned closer and was distracted by the scent of him. She forced her attention to the large warehouse in the image. “Then that’s not where they’d keep her.”
“Agreed.”
Mara reached over and pointed to some distant outbuildings. “We need to check these ones.”
He leaned back and his hair brushed her cheek. Pulling back, she shivered from the heat that flashed low in her belly.
“He might have underground facilities,” Callahan said.
Damn. It was a possibility. “We need to do some surveillance.”
“Yeah—”
“When do we go in?”
He sighed. “Soon. But we have to assemble the team first. We need more time—”
“No.” She stepped between him and the desk. Realized at the last minute she’d trapped herself in front of a dangerous male. “Every minute we watch and wait, she’s forced to kill. Every second brings her death closer.”
Callahan’s eyes narrowed. “What did Leven do to you?”
Dark memories crowded in hard and fast. Mara pushed away from the desk with no idea where she was going but knowing she needed to escape.
Callahan grabbed her wrists. His grasp was firm and unforgiving. “It’s not like you to run, Mara.”
She quivered. “My past is my past. My nightmares are my own.”
His chair creaked as he moved closer. Until she was standing between hard thighs, staring into eyes the color of blackest night.
“Yet you want to know mine,” he said.
Because she wanted to know him.
She wanted to be the one to get beyond the hard shell. She didn’t know why. Maybe she was crazy. She wanted to know if he really felt nothing, or if like her, his past was so horrific that he didn’t allow himself to feel anything. “You’re right.”
He nodded and released her.
But damn it, she always faced her fears head on.
She hitched herself up on his desk and when he frowned, she almost smiled. Not many people surprised Callahan. “I’ll share one secret and you share one in return.”
His frown deepened. “We’re too old for games.”
She crossed her legs. When his gaze dropped and traced down her thighs, she felt a flush of pleasure. “I’m never too old to get my own way.”
His lips quirked. “That, I believe.”
He moved his legs and they brushed against her. She was teased with a brief hint of muscle.
“Okay, Mara. Let’s hear your secret.”
She tapped a finger to her lips. “I was born in Chicago to Keith, an evangelist and Christine, his dutiful wife.” Mara heard the bitterness in her tone. She’d planned to share someth
ing inconsequential. Something that didn’t matter. But the words tumbled out.
Dark eyes watched her. “How do they feel about your ability?”
“I haven’t spoken to them since they kicked me out at seventeen and called me the Devil’s spawn.” How could something that had happened so long ago still sting? “That’s more than one secret. Your turn.”
“I was born in Texas. My parents are dead.”
She studied every nuance of his face. She wasn’t certain, but she thought he was surprised he’d shared that much with her.
That should have been the end of the game. Mara knew she should get up and walk away. “I was eighteen when my fiancé sold me out to Leven.”
Callahan’s gaze sharpened. “Fiancé?”
“I was young and taken in by a pretty face.” Which had hidden rot. “When he found out what I could do, he called me a freak and handed me over to Leven. Leven starved me, kept water from me until I was so thirsty I would have licked a wet floor.” She wrapped her arms around her middle, shivered. “He kept me in the dark. In the darkest, blackest place I’ve ever known.”
“Mara—”
To most, Callahan’s voice would have sounded hard, impassive. But she detected a hidden thread of sympathy. She held up a hand to stop him from getting any closer. She had to finish this.
The next words were barely a whisper, torn from her soul. “He set me loose on his enemies and I tore their minds apart.”
Callahan raised a hand to her face, brushed his fingers along her jaw. “He’s the killer, not you.”
She saw in Callahan’s eyes that he understood. “I…I’ve never forgotten their faces. I can’t forget—”
He snatched her off the table and into his lap. He was so warm and solid. She knew not to take comfort from him. Every man she’d ever trusted to hold her close had thrown her away in the end.
But she curled into him and when his arms wrapped around her and his head rested on her hair, she closed her eyes and soaked in his strength.
“You aren’t responsible,” he said.
“I should have been stronger.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone stronger than you.”
She didn’t want to play anymore. “No more secrets—”
“I was in the CIA.”
She felt him tense up and she rubbed her cheek against his shirt. His heartbeat was a loud drum under her ear. “Everyone knows that.”
“They made me what I am.”
She sat up and looked at him. His face was downcast, lips pressed into a hard line. “How?”
He shook his head. “That’s all I’ll share.”
So much pain. She’d only ever seen his strength but now she had a glimpse of the dark hurt beating beneath his tough exterior. It was a pain she understood.
Callahan wasn’t cold or unfeeling. She realized now that he felt too much. Her fingers clenched on his shirt. And like her, he denied himself any solace.
***
Cal told himself to set Mara on her feet. Move away.
But he couldn’t make his hands let her go. She shifted, her firm bottom rubbing across his lap and his body responded. Her hands cupped his cheeks, nails running over his stubble.
“I know how it feels to hurt,” she said.
She didn’t know anything about his past. If she did, she wouldn’t come near him, let alone sit in his lap. He didn’t deserve comfort or relief. He didn’t deserve a woman like Mara.
When her lips brushed over his, in the barest of kisses, the blood in his veins turned molten. God, he’d wanted her from the first time he’d seen her. She nipped his bottom lip, pulling it into her mouth.
His entire body shook and he curled his hands around the chair’s armrests. “We can’t do this.”
“We can.” Her beautiful face was inches from his. Desire flickered in her green eyes. “We’re both adults. I know you can feel whatever’s between us.”
He needed distance from her, yet like some gravity well, she kept drawing him closer. And she was right. He wanted to kiss her with the full force of his desire. He wanted to splay her back on his desk and taste every inch of her curvy body.
“Just let go for once,” she murmured.
His lips hovered over hers. She was temptation personified, but he never let himself lose his control. Not for a minute. For one, he didn’t deserve any true peace and second, he didn’t like letting his control slip. Dangerous things happened when he did.
“Callahan.” Her hands slid into his hair and her full breasts pressed against his chest.
“Call me Cal.” He let few people call him by anything but his full name.
She smiled. “Cal. Stop thinking and just kiss me.”
She was so comfortable with her sensuality and it ignited him like a bonfire. Unable to deny her, he took her mouth with his. Just a little sample. Just a few seconds, so he could know what she tasted like.
Mara made a murmur of pleasure, her tongue sliding against his. She tasted like honey and spice. Intoxicating. Something dark in Cal stirred, something that had been hungry for so long and waiting for this woman.
For the first time in his life, he shut down his mind and sank into the sensation of Mara Ross. His hands gripped her hips, shifting her until she straddled his lap. The chair squeaked in protest but he needed more of her. Her shirt—his shirt, and damn if he didn’t like seeing her in it—rode high on her thighs.
He deepened the kiss and ground her lower body against him, knew she’d feel his hard cock pressing against the piss-poor protection of her silk panties.
More. He needed more. How long had it been since the ghosts of his past hadn’t beat at him like an angry mob? Right now, all he could see was Mara. All he could feel was her smooth skin.
She moaned, shifting against him. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging in to his flesh through his T-shirt.
Cal slipped a hand up one silky thigh. Her skin was like cream and he was desperate to lick it. He toyed with the edge of the panties, felt the heat of her.
“Cal.” Her nails pressed harder into his skin.
He slid one finger beneath the silk. She arched back, a cry catching in her throat. God, she was hot and damp. He flicked a finger over her clit, loving her uninhibited reactions. She shimmied against his hand and he sank one finger inside her.
Her eyes were heavy, slumberous. “More.”
Heat flushed her cheeks pink and her teeth were biting hard into her bottom lip. Red hair was everywhere, like a rain of wine.
He pushed another finger inside her and a roar started in his head. He wanted to touch her in ways no other man ever had. He wanted to watch this strong, vital woman splinter apart in his arms.
Cal moved his fingers in a teasing rhythm, urged on by her cries. He flicked his thumb over her clit, not letting up on the pressure.
Her body tensed, then she flung her head back and screamed. He held her tight as she shuddered, transfixed by the sight of her face. When she slumped down on him, her head resting on his shoulder, Cal felt a shining moment of contentment.
He could get used to holding this woman in his arms.
The thought had those ghosts roaring to the forefront of his consciousness, screaming for attention. Reminding him why he shouldn’t sully this woman with his black hands. He stiffened.
“Hey.” She lifted her head, a satisfied smile on her lips. She slid a hand down his chest, cupped his cock through his trousers. “We aren’t finished yet.”
He shuddered but forced words from his mouth. “Yes, we are.”
“I’m a hundred percent healthy and on birth control. Make love to me, Cal.”
He set her on her feet. Watched her brow crinkle as she grabbed the table to steady herself.
What the hell had he been thinking, touching her? You weren’t thinking, remember?
He strode to the window. He needed some space between them. In case he yanked her back into his arms. “This shouldn’t have happened.”
/> “Can you at least look at me while you spout your bullshit?”
The sharp whip of her tone had him spinning. A flush of color rode her cheekbones. Good. Anger would keep her away from him. The more distance between them, the safer she’d be.
She shoved her hands on her hips and it caused the T-shirt to pull tight across her breasts. He saw the shadowed outline of her nipples and swallowed. Jesus, he needed to find some of his vaunted control.
“You want to tell me why you’ve turned cold all of a sudden?”
Straight to the point. That was Mara. It almost made him smile. “No.”
She let out a screech. “God, I hate it when you pull your enigmatic loner act.”
“It isn’t an act.”
“Bullshit.” She sauntered up to him, her hips swaying in a way designed to hypnotize a man. “I saw beneath the cold surface, Cal. I know there’s more to you. I sense it every time I’m close to you.”
God, if she closed the last few inches between them, Cal wasn’t sure what would happen. “You can’t be close to me. No one can.”
“Tell me why. Let me in.”
He teetered on the edge. A part of him did want to tell her. To see if she’d still be unafraid. Still want him.
But he knew the truth. Had always known.
He curled his hands into fists to stop from reaching for her. “I can’t.”
“Fine. You do your great martyr routine. The untouchable Callahan.” She flung her hands up. “There are plenty more fish in the sea.”
He grabbed her now, his hands curving around her shoulders. “This is more than that.”
A flash in her eyes. “At least you’ll admit that much.”
He sighed, his palms smoothing over her. One last touch. “That’s why this can never happen again.” He stepped back.
“You going to tell me this is all for my benefit?” She arched one brow.
“It is.” He wanted her safe.
“You’re a coward.”
He stilled. No one had ever called him a coward. He opened his mouth to speak when he saw her face turn white. She pressed a hand to her head.
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