by Karen Anders
He rocked into her, pumping deep, and everything released on a hot, tight ball of pleasure that made her hips undulate, and she cried out as Tristan took his own pleasure, riding the crest of hers.
He braced himself, his head back, his body bowed. Then he collapsed and rolled to his side, pulling her against him.
Imperceptibly, he tightened his hold, committing every single sensation to memory. Sensations to call up and remember after she was gone.
The wind whipped through the mouth of the cave but barely touched him as the heater kept them warm. Amber stirred at the sound, her head looking to the cave mouth, her body tensing. “It’s okay, babe, just the wind.”
Releasing a long sigh, she flattened her hand against his back and shifted her head. And just as imperceptibly, she tightened her hold. “You feel so safe,” she whispered unevenly. “It feels good to have someone to hold on to for just a little while.”
Her honesty made his heart roll over and his chest clog up. Feeling as if he might turn inside out at any minute, Tristan closed his eyes and rubbed her back. His throat was so tight he couldn’t have spoken if he’d wanted to. He had never expected this to happen, this chance to simply hold her like that. And he had never let himself even think about it because it had always been so far out of his reach. Until now.
Aware of every curve and hollow of her body, he continued to hold her, wishing this moment could last forever.
After a long silence, Amber sighed and pulled away, then looked up at him. With so much gratitude in her eyes that it nearly broke his heart, she met his gaze. Her expression remained very sober, and she continued to stare at him. She had the same quiet tone in her voice when she spoke. “You are an amazing man, Tristan. Smart, tough, decisive and brave. So, so brave.”
His gut knotted and he found it suddenly hard to breathe. It was as if she had just reached inside his chest and grabbed his heart, and he had a hard time keeping it together. Everything he’d done up until now, all his medals, all his service, everything paled in comparison to having this woman think that he was all those things. He forced a half smile. His voice was so gruff it didn’t even sound like his own when he answered. “Are you kidding me?” he said. “You held your own. You were a beast.”
She huffed a little laugh. “Great, that’s the way I want you to think about me,” she said, her tone very husky.
He thought of all the reasons he’d fallen in love with her, but that directness of hers, that honesty, which was a fundamental part of her, was one of the things he admired most.
And it made his chest tighten even more.
He ran the backs of his fingers over her soft cheek and she pressed into him. Then he worked his throat and locked his gaze on hers. “I think you’re beautiful. So damn beautiful.” He almost said he’d do anything for her, but he held back. This all was so different, so new and strange, and he felt the need to take the time to think. He couldn’t offer her anything until he was sure he knew what he wanted.
Feeling suddenly very exposed and needing something to do, he rose and stood, then dressed. He grabbed up several MREs, power bars and some water. “Eat and drink all this.” Then he went to the mouth of the cave. There was a funny ringing in his ears, and his voice seemed to come from a long way off. “Get some sleep, sweetheart,” he said, his tone strained. “I’ll take the watch.”
Then he went out into the cold and it hit him like a wall of frost, his heart thundering like a freight train in his chest.
He hadn’t been prepared for her, for her to be so open and honest.
And the act had stripped away a defense system that had been in place ever since that long-ago consulate takeover where he had lost himself.
* * *
Chris accepted the mug of steaming coffee Colonel Jacobs shoved into his hands. They were in the conference room at headquarters and had been here all night trying to work out how to find Amber and Tristan Michaels. It was as if they’d disappeared off the face of the earth.
Corporal Morgan poked his head into the office and said, “There’s an Officer Mendez on the phone for you, sir. He says it’s urgent.”
“Patch him through.”
When the conference-room phone rang, the colonel put it on speaker.
“Colonel Jacobs.”
“Sir, this is Officer Mendez over at PD.”
“Yes, what is it?”
“Chief Werner’s wife just called. She said her brother-in-law went up early this morning to join a hunting party and it seems that the cabin has been broken into and everyone is missing. Her brother-in-law is concerned. He found blood in the snow. He also noticed a car with military plates. She gave me the numbers and I ran them, sir, and they are registered to Master Sergeant Tristan Michaels. I saw that he’s been missing since yesterday.”
“Where is this cabin?” the colonel said as Chris pushed off the wall and Beau and Vin both came awake. “Morgan!” he shouted as Mendez started to rattle off the address.
Vin was already entering it into his phone.
When Corporal Morgan came to the door, the colonel said, “Get me a bird on the double! No need for that, Fitzgerald. We won’t be driving.”
* * *
Amber squeezed Tristan’s hand as they slipped out of the cave. When he checked the rifle it had only one bullet in it.
“Stay hidden here. I’m going to scout ahead. We can descend. It’s going to be a trek and hard going, but it’s the shortest way down. Garza knows that. It’s our only chance. I’ll be right back.”
Amber stayed out of sight as she watched Tristan head across the expanse of snow. Then she saw Garza. He was moving parallel to Tristan. Without caring that she would expose herself, she shouted, “Tristan!”
He hit the deck and the bullet from Garza’s gun missed him. Two men broke from cover and pelted toward her. She headed for Tristan, then noticed the broken trees and the debris at the bottom of this hill.
Suddenly, in the distance, she heard the sound of chopper blades at the same time she heard an audible crack. The snow beneath her feet started to slide. The two men who were after her stopped dead. Tristan rose and Garza fired again, forcing him to take cover behind a rock. Amber looked down. The snow was breaking away right beneath her feet.
Tristan yelled for her to move, and there was only one hope, the low-hanging tree branch that was just out of her reach.
She began to run, but the snow really started to slide as if there was a conveyor belt beneath her feet. At the last possible moment, she leaped for the branch and caught hold of it just as she lost her footing.
Tristan watched as the two men who had been after Amber weren’t so lucky. They went down under hundreds of pounds of snow and then got lost in the great tumble of snow as it poured over the edge of the cliff. Garza was down the mountain, clear of the slide. He turned to look at Amber and raised the rifle to his shoulder, sighting down the scope.
A helicopter buzzed up over a hill, distracting Garza as Amber held on to the branch. A shot rang out and Garza dropped.
Tristan had guessed that, like Werner, Garza was wearing a vest and he put the round in his head.
One shot. One kill. A perfect cold zero.
Chapter 16
Back at his town house, with her boss and coworkers taking up the couch downstairs and two sleeping bags, Amber lay in the bed, her bruises still tender, her body exhausted and her mind unable to shut down.
Chief Werner was dead, along with the three men who had planned to hunt Tristan. Tristan had killed one of the men who had been chasing her with Garza. The other two had perished with the avalanche, and Garza had died with Tristan’s bullet through his forehead.
Lance Corporal James Connelly had died because Randall Mayer had wanted to prove to his “hunting” buddies that he could bag himself a highly trained marine. Ran
dall had kidnapped and murdered James in cold blood. According to Garza, James had proved to be more than Mayer had anticipated, which made Amber say a silent prayer for James. He’d almost made it to Tristan, almost had outrun his killer. Mayer got what was coming to him, but it had been Police Chief Werner who had been the ringleader, with Garza as his muscle.
Their hunting ring was exposed, along with the death of Dr. Carl Thompson, making them accessory to not only Dr. Thompson’s murder but also the military personnel they’d killed. After a search of Chief Werner’s home, a kill book had been found with the names of all the victims. The others involved in the ring were in custody, including Ken Marshall, the chapter leader of Sportsmen Unlimited. Amber was finally free to head to Aruba. But where once she had been excited, she now only felt leaden and resigned to spend a week in paradise alone when all she wanted to do was wrap herself around Tristan...forever.
It was the squeak of a floorboard that dragged her out of sleep, but before she was fully alert, she felt a hand rest against her bruised jaw with infinite gentleness.
She opened her eyes, her heart contracting when she realized Tristan was leaning on the mattress with one knee, naked except for his blue cotton pajama pants. His hair was damp, as if he’d just had a shower. Not sure if it was a dream, Amber wet her lips and spoke, her voice husky with sleep. “Tristan?”
He gave no response, his face obscured by shadows, but even in the faint starlight, she could see the rigid angle of his jaw. But what she couldn’t see, she could feel in him—and it was terrible tension, as if he was clamping down on some awful emotion.
She heard him try to clear his throat as he dragged his thumb across her cheek. His voice was rough and very uneven. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”
He shifted his position, sliding his arms around her, gathering her against him. Overwhelmed by a mixture of sharp relief and unbearable sadness, Amber wrenched her arms free of the blanket and wrapped them around his neck, hanging on to him for dear life. Locking her jaw to keep her own emotions contained, she pressed her face against his neck, a sob trapped in her chest. He clutched her head against him, his rib cage rising sharply; then he made a ragged sound and slid deeper into the mattress, pulling her underneath him as a violent shudder coursed through him.
A feeling of deliverance pouring through her, Amber dragged one leg free, holding on to him with every ounce of strength she had as she twisted under him, clutching him even tighter as his full weight settled between her thighs. It was as if every feeling she’d ever had for him had been magnified a hundredfold, and she turned her face against him, tears slipping down her temples. He was everything to her. Everything. And she was grateful for this reprise. So grateful. She wanted to tell him what was in her heart, but she knew it would only make things that much worse.
They had already said their piece. Tristan had made his decision and it was final. He wouldn’t allow her to wait around for him when he wasn’t sure he would ever be available to her either physically or emotionally. He wasn’t going to let her even have hope that down the road he might change his mind.
He was going back into combat, and it terrified her that she would never know how he was doing.
He said he had to get it all straight, assimilate all that he had learned, all that Amber had made him think about.
Amber caught the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his damp hair, emotion upon emotion piling up in her. It was as if they were fused together by desperation, by their individual sorrow, by all the things they couldn’t say, had already said, and it was too much.
Far too much. And it got worse when she realized his face was wet against hers.
Not this warrior. Not her hero, her anchor. Not that kind of anguish. Clenching her jaw to contain the awful pressure in her chest, Amber shifted her hold, trying to completely enfold him, trying to tell him without words that she would do anything to keep him safe.
“It’s okay, baby,” she said softly, wiping at his cheeks with her thumbs. “It’s okay.”
Shifting his hold, Tristan caught her by the face, then softly—so very softly—kissed her, his mouth warm and moist and unbearably gentle. Amber was blindsided by his gentleness, this man who had been all kinds of grumpy when she’d first met him. So closed down.
As he deepened the kiss, tightening his hold on her, they needed no more words. Just actions. They moved together, against each other, taking and giving, holding and letting go.
In the morning when she woke, he was gone, the scent of him lingering on the linens as she buried her nose into the pillow next to her head.
Heartsick, she got up, dressed and took her luggage downstairs. It was over. She knew it was over. The shower was going when she passed the bathroom.
Chris was in the kitchen with Vin and they were discussing sports.
Tristan was at the table, looking disreputable with his unshaven jaw and his disheveled coal-black hair. So it was Beau who was in the shower. For a moment, Tristan drank her in. Then Vin said, “Morning! Tristan was telling us you make some mean pancakes. Think you could whip us up a batch?” He gave her the disarming Vin smile that had won him his fiancée, Sky.
Chris leaned back into the counter and eyed her. “Sia makes mean pancakes, too. Rafael loves them. I’ll have to see how they measure up.”
“Rafael is his adorable little boy,” Amber said, giving Tristan a soft look, one he returned.
“There’s soon to be another little adorable in the house. Sia’s pregnant again.”
“Chris, that’s great.” Amber hugged him and he tightened his hold on her. Vin encompassed them both.
“Group hug!” he said, making her laugh. God, she loved these guys.
Tristan smiled and said, “Ah, Agent Vargas, now you’ve done it. Amber loves a challenge.”
She sure did, but she’d somehow fallen short with Tristan and she couldn’t help it. It rankled and created a tiny bit of heat in her. Lifting her chin and rolling up her sleeves, she headed for the stove.
“No one beats me at pancakes,” Amber said. Her cell rang and Tristan reached for it. Then his eyes narrowed. He picked it up and answered it.
“Listen, pal, stop calling Amber.” She could hear Pete’s puzzled voice on the other end of the line. “Who am I? I’m the guy that thinks Amber is the most beautiful, toughest goddamned woman on this planet. You. Blew. It. Don’t call her again. She is so not interested.” He calmly disconnected the call and set the phone down on the table.
Beau started to clap, Vin grinned like a fool, and Chris laughed outright.
Afterward, full from one of her best batches, even Chris had to agree they were better than Sia’s, but he swore them all to secrecy.
As they rose, Amber reached out and tucked a folded piece of paper into Tristan’s camo shirt pocket. He gave her a meaningful look and she smiled.
Then it was time to head to the airport where Chris, Vin and Beau would go back to DC and she’d get on her flight for Aruba. Tristan picked up her bag before she could reach for it and preceded her out. It had started to snow. Again. That would mean more shoveling for Tristan. Chris popped the trunk and Tristan set her bag inside and moved back onto the curb as her coworkers deposited their own carry-on bags inside.
Chris slammed the trunk and moved around to the driver’s side of the car. Amber gave Tristan a brave smile, tilting up her chin. She wanted to hug him, kiss him, but her coworkers were standing right there.
Snow floated down slowly like feathers, settling on his shoulders and in his dark hair and lashes. The bleak sky mirrored the feeling deep in her gut.
Expelling his breath in a violent shudder, Tristan took the two strides that separated them. In front of her boss and her two coworkers, he pulled her roughly against him, nearly crushing her. With tears stinging her eyes, Amber cradled his head, absolutely torn apart, so fresh f
rom their ordeal, from his heroic effort to save her life. She knew in her heart that he had never intended this to happen. But she also knew this was his final goodbye.
And it nearly killed her.
Tightly closing her eyes to try to dam the tears, she continued to hold him with all her strength, afraid if she loosened her hold just a little, he would disappear like smoke. She had no idea how long they stood like that, clinging to each other, afraid what would happen if they let go. His chest rose sharply, pressing against her as he took a deep, uneven breath, his mouth sliding along her cheek to her lips. He kissed her deeply, and then he said, “Take care of yourself, sweetheart.”
She gripped the back of his neck. “You, too, marine. You stay safe,” she said fiercely.
Tristan turned and went back into his town house, and Amber turned and headed toward the rental car. Chris was behind the wheel and Vin in the front seat. She met Vin’s eyes through the glass and his compassion was almost too much to bear. She slid into the backseat, where Beau was sitting. “We all set?” Chris said, starting up the car. She met his gaze in the rearview mirror, his look telling her he was happy and relieved to have her safe.
Amber held it for a moment, thankful to have such a great boss and two solid, caring coworkers. “Good to go,” she said more brightly than she felt. “Time for my much-postponed vacation. I know you’re all jealous.”
They grumbled, pretending they were totally envious and good-naturedly wishing her a good time as Chris pulled away from the curb. She couldn’t help one more glance back. In the picture window, Tristan watched her drive away, his hand flat against the glass. She pressed her hand against the car window and kept her eyes on his through the thick, white drifting snow until they went around the bend and his town house and the sight of his stoic, handsome face disappeared from view.
She turned back and, without a word, Beau reached over and snagged her hand with his. He squeezed it once and held it all the way to the airport.