“Why so hungry?”
Smiling shyly, she waved his question off, offering a small burp instead. Wrong answer.
“Tess. What’s going on? Why were you so hungry?” He eyed her sternly. She should’ve known better than to blow him off like that. The shower wasn’t far away.
“I, umm...” She licked the salt or something off her index finger, then stuck that red nailed finger all the way into her mouth and slowly drew it out. Darn her tempting ass. He looked away and counted to ten. Did she have any idea how hot all of her innuendos, lips, tongue, and fingers movements were to a sex-starved man? And that mouth. Those ruby lips. Nothing but wickedly sinful, a tad prehensile, and—just the way a woman’s lips should be.
“It’s just that it’s kind of hard to eat when you’re...” Apprehension shone in her blue eyes.
“When you’re what?” Get on with it, Miss Culver.
She sighed in that timid way she had when it suited her. “You wouldn’t understand. You’re a man.”
Like him being male had anything to do with anything. Everyone had to eat. He waited, tired of all the showdowns and mind games with this tenacious woman. Nodding toward the bathroom door, he arched a brow to get his point across. “Swim or spill.”
“Oh, all right. It’s not like it’s a secret or anything. I work part-time at an orphanage in downtime Kabul,” she said quietly. “It’s just hard to eat when starving children are standing in front of you.”
He sat up straight and focused on her. “You work at an orphanage? Really?” Why did I not know that?
She nodded without looking at him. “You didn’t think I spent all my time on rooftops, did you?”
“When? I mean, how many hours do you work there?” His throat went dry. He’d been to Afghanistan two separate times just to surveil this woman, and yet he’d missed this, another sign he needed to quit the covert surveillance world. That little detail explained the food addiction and her lithe figure, but going without food so children could eat? He hadn’t seen that coming and he should have. “Which orphanage?”
“Saint Raphael’s. It’s outside the gate at Camp Eggers. I go in whenever I can.”
He knew it well. “What do you do when you’re there?”
She shrugged. “Whatever the director wants me to do. Sometimes I teach, but most of the time, I work with the kids who’ve been injured by IEDs. I bathe them and feed them. I help them readjust to life without limbs or sight. I handle grief counseling with their parents if they have any. Whatever I need to do,” she shrugged again, “I just do.”
He sighed. The reminder of all those poor children dampened his joy of having just watched her eat.
“There’s a six-year-old girl named Mina.” Tess turned talkative. “She and her little brother were walking to school one day, only the Taliban had buried a bomb the night before. Jamaal stepped on it. He lost a leg and part of his arm, but Mina...” Tess paused, still not looking at Lee. “She lost sight in both eyes. Of all the kids there, she and her brother are my favorites.”
A twinge of guilt shuddered off Lee’s shoulders, even though the sensation that he was being played persisted. Was this woman actually willing to use injured Afghan children to further her cause? Was she softening him up so she could catch him unaware? Darn. She was good, but the conclusion didn’t set right. She might be audacious with the Taliban, but he couldn’t see her being cruel with children. He couldn’t decide what to believe.
“I tried for days to find their mother,” she said wistfully, “but they only had their father, and he couldn’t keep the children. He was elderly, and they were too much trouble. He still comes to visit, though, and they love him.”
Lee studied her profile from his bed. There was one way to find out if this was true or not. He dialed Mother all the way back in Alexandria, Virginia. Morning in Afghanistan meant late night on the East Coast, but the lead techie for The TEAM was always on call. “Hey, Mother. What are you doing in the office this late?”
She answered, just as he knew she would. “Working, Lee. How about you?”
Tess spiked a wickedly sharp brow. “You didn’t believe me?”
Lee shook his head, trying to listen to both women in his ears, but mostly to Mother. “Boss has me working on a video he just sent. How about you?”
“That wouldn’t be the video of Hasim Nizari, would it?”
“Sure is. Why?”
Lee stalled. Damn, Alex was quick. “Could you double-check an alibi for me before you go home?”
“You betcha. Whatcha need?”
“I need to know about an orphanage outside Camp Eggers here in Kabul. Saint Raphael’s. Could you find out for me if there’s a little boy there named Jamaal and a little girl named Mina? They’re brother and sister. She and Jamaal might need medical aid. I’d like to get that started.”
“Anything else?” Mother was always at her best when she was involved in everyone else’s business.
“Not right now.” Lee kept one eye on Tess. She’d heard the whole thing. He’d expected a stronger reaction, but she looked like she was asleep, another response he didn’t trust.
“I’ll call back when I find out. Don’t go too far.”
“I won’t. Good night, Mother.”
“Night.”
Lee disconnected the call. Tess was asleep. She should be. The woman had on a definite carb overload. Not a fry had survived her prehensile lips and the two chocolate shake glasses were sucked dry, the beer bottles, too.
He was feeling a little sleepy too, but several chores remained. Lee pushed the dinner cart out into the hall and hung the Do not disturb sign on the doorknob. He gathered Tess’s clothing from the bathroom floor and rung each piece dry. After stuffing her black jeans, shirt, black bra, and very sexy black lace panties into the laundry bag, he placed a quick call to the front desk for a pick up. Into another bag went his dirty laundry, with orders to please avoid starching his underwear this time.
It didn’t take long before a young boy knocked politely on the door, asking after the laundry. With that chore taken care of, Lee turned the light off, returned to his bed, and turned the volume on the television to low. As quietly as possible, he placed another call.
Eric answered at the first ring. “How is she?”
“Sleeping,” Lee replied. “You must have talked with the boss.”
“Yes. Sounds like you’ve had more fun than Seth and I did last night.”
“You have no idea.” Lee glanced at the other bed. Tess had turned away from him, the curvy dip of her waist and hips defined beneath the robe.
“Damn,” Eric muttered. “Wish we’d known you were already standing by to catch her when she dropped.”
“You were there? Where were you guys situated?”
“Yeah. East side, facing south. Between the museum and palace. Didn’t expect we’d be working a joint op with you tonight, though. Seth damned near blew a gasket when she pitched over the edge like she did. Everything happened at once. We couldn’t see you or the truck over the palace wall, just the roof.”
“Damn, I wish I’d known. Were you wearing helmet cams?”
“Seth was. He was spotting for me. Why? You want to see the video?”
“Yes, and so does Miss Culver. She’s got the idea she’s invincible.”
“That girl’s nuts.”
“Speaking of Seth, how’s he doing?” Lee avoided Eric’s correct observation of Tess. Overall, Eric had the more difficult part of this two-pronged operation. He had to deal with Seth.
“Good.”
“You can’t talk, can you?”
“Got that right.” Eric’s succinct answer was explanation enough.
“Could be worse, you could be here,” Lee muttered softly as he glanced at Tess again. She’d groaned in her sleep, her cuffed hand over her head and her clean hair mussed and shiny, cascading off the pillow. No doubt about it. She was out like a light—and sexy as hell. Soft and hard at the same time. Sweet and mean. Shit.
He was in way over his head.
“We’re hearing a lot of Taliban chatter about a big meeting going down in Kabul, maybe tomorrow. Did Alex mention anything about it to you?” Eric asked.
“Haven’t talked to him since early this morning. Been kinda busy. If I know Alex, he’s still backtracking everything she’s stolen and who’s buying it.”
“Like I said, she’s nuts.”
“What’s up with you guys? Where will you be tomorrow?”
“Unless we get more intel on the next Taliban move from the Army, we’ll be around the museum. Turik’s hit all of his victims in that general area, and he’s done it late afternoon every time. We were lucky today. Seth spotted him coming out of that orphanage by the base.”
“Saint Raphael’s?” That surprised Lee.
“Yeah. That’s the one. We were gonna drop off the shoes Seth brought. You know how he is. No kid should go barefoot and all that.”
Lee knew. Since the incident in Chicago, Seth couldn’t buy enough shoes for little kids. It stemmed from the fact that when he’d hit that girl with the pink pistol, his shot blew her backward and out of her shoes. Lee really wanted to talk with Seth. He knew what the guy was going through, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Lee needed enough help all by himself.
“What was Turik doing there?”
“Playing with a couple kids. A little girl and a boy. They looked like one big happy family.”
“Tess works there,” Lee muttered. “That could explain where she’s getting her intel on the museum thefts. Maybe she’s working with Turik.”
“Could explain why he tried to kill her.” Eric yawned. “That whole honesty among thieves thing, you know. Is that all you wanted?”
“You guys need to take Turik out of the game, buddy. Do it now before he kills anyone else.”
“No shit,” Eric hissed. “You do know he took a shot at your girlfriend tonight, don’t you? That’s why he was there.”
“Seriously? You got that on video? I was hoping for a close-up of the guards. This is better.”
“Hell, yeah. Turik would’ve had her if she hadn’t dropped off the edge when she did.”
“Maybe he’s working her for information. How else could he have known where she’d be?” Lee blew out a slow breath at the thought. It felt true, but damn. He could’ve caught a dead body instead of the very sexy one sharing his hotel room. Tess scrunched her nose in her sleep, then reached to rub it with her cuffed hand, growling when she couldn’t stretch far enough. Even in her sleep, Tess Culver was petulant as all get-out.
“Can you drop by later this afternoon? She needs to see that video.”
“Can do. Listen, we’re headed out to look for Turik again right now. We can be there at fifteen-thirty. Will that give you time to catch some shuteye?”
“Good enough. See you then.” Lee signed off.
Shuteye implied he’d have to sleep with one eye open, a very distinct possibility with Miss Culver in the same room with him. He went to her bedside for a moment, content just to look down on her while she slept.
Alex had a helluva lot of nerve charging him with guarding this hot-blooded, hot-tempered woman. Odd, though, how Lee’s empty hotel room felt cozy—or soothing—or something since he’d dragged her ornery butt over the threshold.
There were no two ways about it. She was a gorgeous woman, one who should be doing anything but mixing it up with a bunch of terrorists who’d proved over and over again they had no qualms demeaning women. He’d surveilled Tess often enough to know how she looked running, climbing, and just plain walking down a busy Kabul street. But to be standing this close to her was breathtaking. Her eyes were shut. Coal lashes fanned over mauve-tinted cheeks, lending a certain exotic mystique to her Central Asian ancestry. Full red lips, still not smudged, pinched together in a little-girl pout as if she was dreaming, maybe kissing someone in her sleep.
His gut clenched at the notion that she’d been with another man, one she was dreaming of. He wanted to be the one who smudged that lipstick, damn it. He wanted his hands on her and her mouth on him, and shit. He shut the inherent protective streak in his nature down before he lost his mind. It served him well in this covert surveillance business, but not today. Miss Culver was just a client. Just another job. Nothing more.
The collar of her fluffy white robe had parted to reveal just the pillowy top of her right breast, not showing much skin, but beguiling as hell. It didn’t help one bit knowing she was naked and warm beneath that fluffy robe or that he could heat her up if she were cold.
The automatic instinct to lie beside her and partake of that tender body threatened his last ounce of good sense. It had been a long time since he’d let his defenses down to become so vulnerable—or so dumb. He reined his horses in, dragged his eyes off of her, and stepped back and away. No sense in getting worked up about a thing that wasn’t meant to be. Tess wasn’t his type. He’d already got the hint, loud and clear. Never the two would meet.
Besides, he wasn’t ready for a woman in his life. Nizari had made sure of that. The marks he’d left on Lee’s body were the ultimate turn-off to the feminine persuasion. One didn’t survive the barbarism of a cruel man without scars and the lingering demons that went with them. Just the thought of the brute brought the damp, dank smell of that tiny cell back to Lee’s mind. It hadn’t been big enough for a man his size to lie down and stretch his legs, but the smell was the stuff of nightmares. Filth and blood. Sweat and fire. Fear...
Lee rolled his shoulders, shrugging the demons off yet one more time. The irony of having lived a healthy, pure life before that nightmare, of having avoided drugs, cigarettes, and booze through his teenage years and even boot camp, only to be saddled for the rest of his days with a psychological addiction to a nightlight and outright fear didn’t escape Lee.
He’d lived his time in Hell. Because of Nizari, each day was another twelve-step challenge to let it go, move on, keep positive, and never let Nizari win. And every day, Lee got up like any other alcoholic or drug addict on the planet, and he started all over again. He performed his mental ritual of picturing his younger self, throwing stars and dreams back into the sky.
He brushed his teeth and pushed the blackness away for another day. He showered and shaved while he invited the light to enter and to stay. A man’s brain ought to work the other way around. He should wake up energized and full of life, ready to conquer the world instead of jolting out of the same running nightmare from which he could never get away.
“Hey.” A soft touch on his wrist startled him out of the past. “Are you coming to bed, Agent Hart?” Tess asked sleepily, her hair tousled and tangled, her lips full and wet, and her free hand feathery light on his skin.
Lee’s heart stuttered. Coming to bed sounded a helluva lot like an invitation he shouldn’t refuse. Could it please, just for once, be that easy? But he knew better. If he were dumb enough to fall for her, she’d see. She’d cringe. She’d pull back in disgust, and she’d come up with a very reasonable excuse never to look at him again. She’d turn away, and that one fatal mistake would turn the rest of this op into misery.
“Go to sleep,” he said softly, lifting her fingers off his arm and placing her hand on her pillow.
“’Kay,” she whispered groggily, her cheek mashed to the pillow again. “I’s just asking.”
He pulled the light blanket up to her chin, covering her robe, and he sat on the edge of his bed watching her drop off to sleep. Client or not, he very much wanted to climb into bed with Miss Culver.
He just never would.
Chapter Nine
Her eyes popped open. She’d heard something. A child out of bed at night? An animal in the orphanage? An assassin come to murder her in her sleep? The Taliban? A shudder raced up her spine.
Nothing but the hush of the empty hotel room and the man snoring softly in the opposite bed came back to her ears, but her heart wasn’t hammering for nothing. Tess ducked deeper into her covers. She had heard something. Someon
e else was in this room.
Quietly testing that her cuff was still locked brought another wave of panic. She was trapped with no way to run and shaking like a leaf. Not her usual exit strategy. Her nightmares always started like this, trapped, restrained against her will. The muscles in her throat clamped shut, restricting airflow, making it hard to breathe or calm herself.
Why wasn’t Agent Hart protecting her? He’d said he would. Wasn’t that the deal? He’d promised. Panic crept over her shoulders at the deadly snare he’d trapped her in. This was all his fault.
Er-r-r. Ar-r-rg.
There it was again, that sound, a guttural groan, deep and tormented from the other bed. From Agent Hart? She shot an annoyed glance his way, relieved and irritated at the same time. At least there was no murderer come to get her, but growling like a bear? Really? Snoring she could deal with. Clint did plenty of that. Growling? Not so much.
Slivers of the bright afternoon Kabul sunshine filtered through the closed slats of the wooden shutters, just enough to offer the dimmest light. Damn, what was that man wearing? Agent Hart looked overdressed with gray running pants and a T-shirt, the sheet draped over half his body. Funny. She’d expected a bare chest. Hairy legs. Maybe boxers. But this man even wore gray socks to bed. How odd. She smirked at the sight. Ha. Why not pajamas? They’d make as much sense in this desert climate.
With a small sigh of relief, she relaxed. At least, the racket she’d heard was just—him.
“No-o-o,” he growled, straightening both legs, his hands stiff at his side and his fists clenched. His thick chest heaved.
She leaned up on one elbow to better see what was going on. He was restless, his head shaking back in forth in continual grunts and denials. The veins in his neck bulged. Agent Hart was dreaming. That was all. He looked like a little kid about to have a temper tantrum, his face sweaty and his hair mussed. Maybe that was all this was about. He was hot. He should be with all those clothes.
“Knock it off, Hart,” she ordered. “I’m trying to sleep over here.”
“Won’t,” he muttered darkly as if in answer, his right hand brushing over his chest in short rapid strokes like he was brushing bugs away. Only he hadn’t answered her, and he didn’t stop scrubbing his chest. The brushing turned frantic. He arched to one side, his face contorted, and his back lifted off the mattress. “Corporal Lee Hart,” he ground out, following that odd proclamation with what sounded like a series of numbers she couldn’t quite distinguish. Name, rank, and serial number?
Lee (In the Company of Snipers Book 12) Page 10