An Unconditional Surrender (In Love and War Anthology)

by Candace Irvin

  “Are you going to release me?”

  “No.” There wasn’t a blessed thing she could do about it either and she knew it. Not given the crowd up in that house.

  “Jack…this isn’t fair.”

  He had to laugh at that. Curtly. “Fair? Don’t talk to me about fair, lady.” He leaned low so he could grate the rest directly into her ear. Not because he was afraid C’emal would remember who he worked for any time soon, but because he still didn’t even want to admit it to himself. “You’re not the one who twisted your life into a pretzel only to find out afterwards that while you thought you had something great going, the other person had been driven by nothing more than a mix of good old-fashioned lust and surging adrenaline.”

  She flinched.

  He dropped his stare to her throat as he dragged his mouth away from her ear, maintaining his hold on her arms as he stared down at the pulse now thundering at the base of her neck.

  “Go to hell.”

  “Been there, done that, sweetheart. You ought to know, you’re wearing the T-shirt.”

  “Screw—”

  He anticipated that one, tightening his grip just enough to cut the rest off. “Done that, too, honey. Again, with you. At least I was honest about it the morning after.” The smoke in her gaze grew so dark and so thick, he should have choked on it.

  “Honest? Oh, that’s rich. Even for you. You’re the one who slept with me to further your precious career.”

  “I did what?” He stiffened as the accusation ripped through his gut like a fragmentation grenade. She glared at him as he struggled to stanch the shock. The fury.

  The absolute confusion.

  “Oh, kill the innocent routine. It didn’t work the first time and it won’t work now. I was there. Again. Outside your office this time. I heard it all.” She flicked her gaze at the barn. “I hope you’re keeping a better lookout this time because frankly, for a Delta operative, your stealth skills suck. Or maybe I’m just better at my job than you and my father think.”

  She had been there.

  And the shrapnel was still pinging around inside him.

  He released her arms, slowly, deliberately, knowing she wouldn’t stalk off. Not now. Not even when he turned away to stare out over the gradually warming hills to try and absorb the blow. The shock. The goddamned irony of it. Dani was wrong. She hadn’t heard it all that day. She couldn’t have. If she had, they might still be standing here, but it wouldn’t be like this.

  Eleven months. He’d wasted eleven long months. Hell, he’d changed his career. Yeah, he’d have switched it anyway. But she might have been at his side while he’d done it but for that overbearing, meddling man. He might finally understand why the general had treated his daughter the way he had her entire life, but he couldn’t forgive it. It had caused too much damage. To Dani and to them. Jack reached for the pack of Marlboros inside his cargo pocket, tapping out a cigarette before he remembered he didn’t even smoke. He shoved the pack home and hooked his T-shirt around the back of his neck, gripping the damp ends hard to disguise the trembling in his fingers as he turned.

  “You misunderstood what you heard.”

  The fire cooled in her gaze. Shadows replaced it. Pain. Resignation. And a host of uglier emotions he’d give every last one of his concealed weapons to ease. But the most insidious was doubt. He watched it invade that soft gaze before she turned away from him to stare at the barn beyond. To hide. He knew then that not only had Dani heard her father tell him she never belonged in the Army and never would, but that she’d also heard the deliberate, resounding silence that followed—his.

  At the time, he hadn’t argued with the man. Too much had been at risk. So he’d said nothing. Talk about a minefield of a conversation. He’d just finished confessing his professional and personal intentions to the one man who had the power to destroy both. With the Army short of special operators, as his commanding general, all Ramrod-and-Ruthless would have had to do was not support his request to resign from Delta and then blackball his invitation to join Diplomatic Security. The man had enough buddies in the Army and the State Department to pull it off. Then where would he and Dani be? She wasn’t the only soldier her father had trapped beneath his iron thumb during the past thirty years. Nor was he. He was just the one willing to risk it all to get out.

  She was worth it. Not that she’d believe him if he told her. The acid of her father’s subtle but continuous undermining had finally eaten its way into her confidence. He’d watched Dani stand up to the man for years. It was one of the reasons she’d managed to steal his heart as a sixteen-year-old kid. But it wasn’t until this mission, until Lina’s death that she’d finally succumbed to it. And she had succumbed. It was in the way she’d bowed her head. The silent quake of her shoulders. In each hoarse rasp as the warming air around them ripped in and out of her lungs.

  “Dani?”

  She ignored him. He couldn’t blame her. He was too busy cursing himself. He was the one who’d screwed this up. Screwed them up. Adrenaline. What should she have said? I heard my lover agree with my father that I was incompetent?

  “Danielle.”

  She flinched. Again, he couldn’t blame her. He’d used her given name only once before in ten years—during a four-hour stretch in his bed and in his shower.

  “Please, honey. Just look at me.” She did. His fingers shook as he smoothed them across her bruised cheek, then her perfect one, erasing the tears from her flesh. More than anything, he wanted to ease them from her heart. “I didn’t agree with your father. I just didn’t…disagree.”

  He watched her suck in her breath, her pride. “That I know. What I don’t is why you even discussed me with him at all?”

  In the terse moments that followed, he came perilously close to giving her the truth. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not with that fresh bruise on her face and the memory of her head slamming into that wall. Not with Youssef in the house up on that rise, nursing the hatred he’d seen burning in the bastard’s eyes, more determined than ever to dog Dani’s every step, waiting until she was alone, distracted, before he pounced. The hell with his mission, it was too critical to her life that she remain completely focused—lest she end up dead. All he could do was give her as much as he could and pray she still cared enough to stick around when this was over and listen to the rest.

  “Well?”

  He sucked in his own breath. “Your father got in earlier than I did that morning, Dani. He’d driven by my house. He recognized your car. You and me, standing—kissing—beside it.”

  Her lashes flew wide as she blanched.

  He knew the feeling. He’d felt it himself. His surprise had quickly deepened to shock, however—over the depth of her father’s. That any man, even him, had dared to sleep with the general’s little girl. The man’s initial, barely suppressed fury hadn’t even made sense. She’d been twenty-six at the time. Old enough to make her own decisions regarding where she spent the night and with whom. Jack shrugged. “At first, I was hoping to keep the peace. At least until I’d had a chance to talk to you.”

  She just stood there, those huge eyes filling her face. Those damned bruises on her cheek and jaw, the marks on her neck, the tears still dampening the ivory skin that was left. He brushed at them again, this time with his right thumb, trying to brush the salt away before it slid down to burn the split in her lip. Before he realized what he was doing, he’d leaned down and dried the rest with his mouth. He heard the catch in her throat, felt her soft, swift exhale bathe the stubble on his cheek and jaw. When she didn’t pull away, he took a chance and trailed his mouth to hers. He forced his lips to hover. To wait.

  Relief, hope and desire blistered through him all at once as he finally tasted her bittersweet sigh. The years fell away as he reached out and slowly slipped his tongue into the tentative warmth of her mouth. He was twenty-one again, responding to a thank-you kiss he’d known was innocent the moment he’d tasted it, well aware he had no business accepting it, much le
ss in that café for all of West Point to see. For her father to see. It was a miracle the man hadn’t. Though he wouldn’t touch these lips with his for another ten years, he’d never forgotten that brief, mesmerizing caress.

  That kiss, like this one, was why he’d really gone Delta.

  Dani was so wrong. He hadn’t forged a relationship with her father through the years and then slept with her to further his career. He’d chosen his career track and his mentor to stay close to her. He slowly lifted his head, determined to tell her.

  “Good God, Sergeant—aren’t you done yet?”

  They stiffened together as the shout reverberated across the grass and around the side of the barn—and she finally spoke.

  “Rurik.”

  Jack nodded. As much as he wanted to force her down the hill to link up with Hamid, it was too late. He couldn’t see Rurik yet, but the man was bound to be headed straight for them. He tugged on his damp shirt as he rushed through the rest. “It’s time. We’ve got a drive ahead of us, into the mountains. I may not be back until dinner. Don’t worry about Youssef, he’s coming with us. If Rurik changes his mind, I’ll refuse to go.”

  She smoothed the collar of his T-shirt as he crammed the damp hem into the waist of his fatigues. “Is that wise?”

  He checked the sides of the barn, the path. Still no sign of Rurik. “Don’t worry, Rurik won’t call my bluff. He’s desperate for whatever I’m supposed to inspect. Think about it. I’ve written my own game plan twice now. Playing basketball with Youssef’s head this morning and last night, with you. He never should have let you go for three hundred dollars. Not even to a man who saved his life. It’s just not in his nature. Not when you’re worth two, three times that amount to these goons.”

  To him, she was priceless.

  Deep down, he’d always known that.

  He checked the barn again. Rurik was on this end of the gravel path now. Jack tipped her chin, captured her stare. “I asked for your clothes. Rurik says he doesn’t remember a watch but he promised to produce your shoes. Zorah should have them. Swear to me you’ll go for the transmitter this time if you need to.” Relief seared through him when she nodded. “Good. I left a leather belt under the bottom of the dresser along with my cell phone in case someone searches my duffel while I’m gone. Flip the belt over. There’s a small, razor-sharp knife sheathed in at the buckle.” God willing, she wouldn’t need that either.

  He shot off another furtive glance. Rurik had sauntered halfway down the length of the barn and he wasn’t even close to being done. Damn. He cupped his hand to Dani’s neck and dragged her body to his as he had eleven months earlier, standing beside the door to her car. But this time, he was forced to twist his torso to shield her from Rurik’s stare as he lowered his mouth. He put everything he’d ever felt for this woman into a brief, searing kiss. The way her pulse thundered beneath his thumb, the way her eyes darkened as he lifted his head, gave him hope that someday she might feel the same.

  “Honey…we need to talk.”

  She licked the split at her lip as she nodded slowly, cautiously. “I agree.”

  Before he could kiss her again, Rurik’s rotting grin fouled his peripheral view. Jack forced himself to release Dani as he turned to face it. She’d agreed to talk. If everything went down as he hoped today, they might even get the chance.

  Chapter 6

  Jack was late.

  Dani finished scrubbing the last of the earthen bowls and stacked it to the right of the sink with the others as the reality of the hour locked in. Jack had promised to return by dinner. The Spartan dinner of leek stew and bread had ended an hour ago. The sun would be setting soon. So where was he?

  Was he safe? Had the arms deal soured? Or had Youssef decided to try and even the score from this morning? Yes, Jack was extremely good at what he did. But she’d also learned firsthand that Youssef turned downright rabid when thwarted. So had Lina. Once Jack completed his part of the arms deal, would Rurik bother to keep Youssef leashed? Dani purged the terror from her heart, but before she could concentrate on the next set of questions, the source of most of them appeared beside her.

  “We need water. Come.”

  Zorah ignored the thugs nursing their coffee at the island and passed an empty pail over as they left the kitchen. As with most of the chores they’d accomplished together, they headed down the path silently. While Dani had begun to suspect sometime during the dinner preparations that Zorah might be ready to open up to her, she didn’t push. She’d already plied the woman with questions the day before. Zorah would decide to answer or not.

  She was surprised at the soft smile Zorah sent C’emal as they reached the front of the barn, though. Especially when the guard nodded. The exchange had been subtle, but it was telling. Had anyone but her witnessed it, there would be hell to pay. Dani waited until they were out of C’emal’s earshot before she voiced her concerns. “Was that wise?”

  Zorah simply shrugged as they rounded the dairy barn. Dani dropped her pail into place as they reached the well. She was about to lift the handle on the pump when Zorah spoke, so softly she’d almost missed it.

  “Lina is dead.”

  Regret shafted through her as she jerked the iron handle up and down several times. Water splashed into the pail and up over the sides, soaking the toe of her left shoe. She shifted her foot—and the emergency transmitter—out of range. “I know. Youssef…told me.” Dani sucked in her breath as Zorah reached out, smoothing her callused fingers down the side of her mouth.

  “I am so sorry.”

  She shrugged, uncomfortable accepting compassion from a woman whose life wasn’t much better than those of the girls locked up in that hovel awaiting their new masters. Zorah might not be raped regularly, but she lived in fear just the same. Dani had seen the faint bruise at the base of her jaw during the light of day, the old burn marks on the woman’s arms when she’d pushed up her sleeves to scrub her brother’s clothes. C’emal hadn’t put those marks there, Rurik had. “You didn’t hit me, Zorah. And you didn’t kill Lina.”

  “But I stood by and did nothing.”

  She didn’t know what to say to that. She certainly couldn’t bring herself to pass judgment. She hadn’t survived four years of starvation and a daily barrage of shelling and sniper attacks during the siege of Sarajevo with nothing but a rosary to cling to in an attempt to keep the horror at bay. Zorah had. She finished filling her bucket and hefted it away from the pump’s spout. Even now, given what was left of the Bosnian culture, what options did Zorah really have?

  “C’emal says I should leave with him.”

  Water sloshed over the rim as the bucket hit the ground. She captured Zorah’s now-terrified stare. “When?”

  “Tonight.”

  “Why?” But she knew why. She’d seen the answer this morning. Love had won over constant fear and familial loyalty. It also complicated things. Jack’s mission as well as hers. God willing, it wouldn’t compromise them. Dani scanned the path. It was empty. By the time she turned back, Zorah had picked up her own bucket and tucked it beneath the spout. “Zorah?”

  The woman finished filling her bucket, her heavy sigh merging with the cooling evening air as she faced her. “I do not know where the women soldiers are. Rurik does not share this with me. Nor does C’emal know. He only guards the doors. I am sorry. But I can give you something for what you tried to do for Lina. For the courage you have given me.”

  Despite her searing disappointment, hope surged—for the other girls trapped down in that croft. “The key?”

  Zorah nodded.

  It was better than nothing. Especially if Jack returned in time to cover for her and maybe even coordinate with Hamid. If Zorah and C’emal were leaving, she might be able to release the girls at the same time. Make it seem as if the lovers had liberated them, thereby preserving both their covers. But when she picked up her pail and held out her hand, Zorah shook her head. “I must give the key to you later, just before we leave. Rurik will return s
oon. He will want to check on the girls with me before Isha Du’a. I must have the key then.”

  Stunned, Dani dropped the bucket. The contents splashed over the rim, soaking her shoes and the calves of her jeans. She stared out at the hills and the fiery sun that had just set. She gaped at the bearded guard next. The one making his way to them via the path. With every confident step C’emal took, another piece of the puzzle fell neatly into place. Rurik, placing his sister off limits from sexual advances even though he didn’t give a rat’s ass about her. Zorah and C’emal’s shock at being interrupted after sunrise; their obvious freedom to steal a few minutes at midday, then late afternoon and now, just past sunset, even though Rurik’s men were still in that house.

  It didn’t matter. The thugs were occupied. Just as Rurik and his goons would be occupied later tonight with Isha Du’a. The evening prayer. Despite the fact that Rurik, an ethnic Bosnian Croatian, had been baptized Catholic like his sister, the man would not be clutching a rosary. She’d bet the emergency transmitter in her shoe he’d be secreted in his room along with his men, kneeling on an Islamic prayer rug instead.

  “Rurik’s Muslim.”

  Jack jerked his hand from the radio, leaving the volume on that earsplitting accordion where it was as he whirled about to face Dani, hoping he’d misheard her. Praying. Either that, or she was severely mistaken. Frankly, he’d take either option. Her steady gaze as she stared up at him strangled his hope.

  “Yes, I’m sure. Zorah confirmed it. That crucifix hanging from his neck is as phony as the dog tags on yours, at least to him. He converted during the siege of Sarajevo. Rurik’s as much a Catholic as you are an artillery sergeant.” Jack followed her revelation with a curse that would have stunned an Army priest as she sank onto the edge of the bed. “I know. It changes things, doesn’t it? At the very least, the level of the game.”