by Lora Leigh
His lips quirked, almost in amusement, at the question. He wasn’t the only one protective of her; he was just the one determined to keep her.
“Aren’t you the same man who just expressed his worry for her?” He turned back to Nik. “You can’t have it both ways, Nik. Either I’m too possessive of her, or I’m setting her up.”
Nik’s gaze narrowed then. “One doesn’t necessarily cancel the other out. Setting her up would be damned bad form.”
“Then it’s a damned good thing she’s safe from it,” Jordan snapped, his patience as well as his amusement exhausted with the subject. “Let’s get the hell out of here, then make that phone call.”
Jerking a heavy storage blanket from the corner, he threw it at Nik to cover the weapon he’d slipped from the crate, before turning back and replacing the heavy lid.
Seconds later, the weapon carefully covered, they slipped from the unit, relocked it, replaced the security controls, and made their way from the warehouse.
Noah and Micah were waiting at the entrance, their expressions hard, eyes narrowed and emotionless. Jordan let his gaze meet his nephew’s, seeing in it something he had hoped he wouldn’t see again after the team had disbanded.
“He killed Frackle,” Noah stated, his voice soft as he nodded to the large trash container just outside the door. “Put a bullet in the back of his head, then ordered his friends to toss him in it. Motherfuckers did it too.” The heavy disgust that edged into his tone reminded Jordan once again that there was a reason his team had always been the best.
Their loyalty to each other. That loyalty had always assured they were watching each other’s backs, just as it had always insured each operation was conducted with not just their success, but also their safety.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Jordan muttered as he watched the area outside the entrance. “I want this taken care of, and I want to know what the hell is going on, Noah. Ascarti’s luck is getting ready to run out.”
“Let’s hope Tehya’s isn’t running out along with it,” Nik stated behind him. “Or protecting her will become impossible.”
Jordan’s guts tightened at the thought, but Nik was right. If they didn’t take care of this, and take care of it quickly, then he could lose Tehya in ways he had never imagined before.
To death.
CHAPTER 17
Back in the car, the weapon stored safely in the trunk, Jordan watched out the window impassively as Noah pulled from the exit of the storage warehouse and reentered the heavy D.C. traffic surging through the streets.
“We need to find someplace to lay low while we’re considering our options,” Noah proposed. “There’s a hotel with suites just outside of town. We can get you checked in under an anonymous name.…”
“We’re going to the senator’s estate,” Jordan broke in firmly. “Kell’s throwing another party tomorrow night and I want to be in a position to protect Tehya.”
“The team will be there, Jordan,” Noah argued. “We can keep Ascarti at bay without you. If this jeopardizes her life, then you’ll never forgive yourself.”
But there was no staying away from her. Even now, every cell in his body ached to hold her close, to assure himself she was indeed safe and unharmed.
“The team will be there, and so will I.” Jordan kept his tone smooth, and his decision firm.
In the rearview mirror, Jordan caught a glimpse his nephew’s expression, the concern as well as the disapproval in his gaze.
“This isn’t a good idea,” Noah continued to argue, though his tone remained cool and unheated. “You could be seen by staff or anyone watching Stanton’s estate after her arrival. It could endanger the plan to make it appear you’ve been killed.”
Jordan’s gaze met Noah’s in the mirror for a second before his nephew turned his eyes back to the road.
The thought of not going to Tehya had his guts clenching in refusal. He’d be damned if he would let her sit there alone, allow her to sleep alone after experiencing the heat and pleasure of having her against him throughout the night.
“I didn’t ask if you thought it was a good idea. I said do it.” His gaze met Noah’s again for a brief second, their wills clashing as Jordan set the tone of command at its firmest strength.
Noah grimaced and his gaze jerked back to the road, the muscles at the side of his jaw flexing angrily.
“She’s getting to you, isn’t she, Jordan?” Noah finally asked as he made the turn onto a bypass and entered the heavy late afternoon traffic as his tone sharpened with a flare of anger. “Are you giving in to the illusion?” he mocked.
“Like you and Sabella, Noah, the illusion is real for Tehya. Just because I don’t believe in it doesn’t mean she doesn’t believe she feels it.”
Or was there more to it? Jordan fought the denial raging inside him at the thought that love didn’t exist. He had always believed it was an illusion. Since he was a teenager, since that first flush of love and the resulting betrayal, he’d refused to let himself believe.
And now he was beginning to wonder if perhaps he had been wrong. Tehya gave every part of herself to him when they came together, and he’d learned that each time he touched her, thought about her, ached for her, that the need became stronger, deeper, more intense.
“Doesn’t mean you can’t reap the benefits of it either, huh?” The disappointment in Noah’s voice wasn’t hard to miss, and it struck at one of the few vulnerable areas Jordan possessed. His affection for family, his need for that family’s affection.
Jordan raked his fingers through his hair impatiently as he met his nephew’s mockingly angry gaze. “Just because I believe it’s an illusion doesn’t mean I can’t claim the results of it,” Jordan amended, his voice darker as a part of him cringed, or seemed to, at the illogical feeling of having betrayed Tehya somehow with that statement.
Noah didn’t say anything further. His lips thinned, his expression became set in lines of disapproval, but he kept his argument to himself.
If only the others were so kind.
“Hey, Noah, did you notice he said just because he believed it was an illusion rather than just because it is an illusion?” Nik piped up from beside Noah, his voice heavy with amusement. “Maybe he’s relenting just a little bit.”
Neither Jordan nor Noah responded. Jordan could feel the heavy threat of condemnation rising from each of his men as they rode toward the senator’s estate.
Noah had to fight to rein in the impatient anger brewing inside him.
Hell, he’d been around Tehya and his uncle enough to know that Jordan was determined to fight whatever he was feeling for Tehya. He’d been feeling it for six damned years now or more, and still, Jordan didn’t dare mention the L word. If he acknowledged it, then he might have to admit it actually existed.
But if any man had ever been born to love a woman, then Jordan had been born for Tehya, just as Noah knew he had been born for Sabella.
It was the Malone curse, his grandfather had always said. Malone men were warned to love wisely, because once they loved, they loved forever, they loved deep, and they loved with a blazing heat that burned clear to the soul.
Jordan just didn’t want to admit he was in love with Tehya. If he admitted it, then he had to face the fact that he couldn’t exist without her.
And it wasn’t a bad thing, Noah acknowledged to himself. He’d made mistakes with Sabella. He’d left her when he should have had her brought to him. He’d turned his back on his marriage, his life, his identity because of his own stupid pride and fear. But as Noah Blake rather than Nathan Malone, he’d returned, claimed everything that had ever belonged to him, and at the same time, Sabella managed to mark his soul a second time with a lash of delicate, feminine claws, female stubbornness, and raging hunger.
Hell, if he could knock some sense into his uncle, then that was exactly what he would do. Unfortunately, the more a man, or a woman, pushed at Jordan Malone, the more stubborn he could get.
Maybe, hop
efully, this time Jordan would realize the gift Tehya had been holding for him all these years. The other men swore they’d seen it, eight years before. That first night they had come face-to-face in Aruba during the operation to identify and neutralize Sorrel, Tehya’s father.
Noah prayed, for his uncle’s sake, that he realized what he saw as an illusion was the only emotion that would ever ease that core of agonizing loneliness Noah glimpsed in Jordan’s eyes. If Jordan let her go this time, if he walked away, then Noah feared there would be no going back.
Glancing in the rearview mirror once again, he glimpsed that dark, dangerous set of Jordan’s face once again. He’d seen it too often, watched it growing over the years until Noah was beginning to fear that one day, it would become a permanent set to his face.
Until Jordan had come after Tehya. Only with her did he lose that look. Only when Tehya was around, did Jordan soften. She was Jordan’s last hope, and Noah prayed, he prayed often, that this time she would break through shield around his uncle’s soul and dissolve that core of dangerous darkness overtaking him.
If she didn’t, then Noah feared Jordan would only return to the Ops, and if he did that, then it wouldn’t be as a base commander. Jordan would take field command, and one day, he just wouldn’t return.
As Jordan’s gaze slid to the mirror, meeting Noah’s as he glanced back again, Noah realized his uncle was riding a much finer line than he’d imagined. If the look in his eyes was any indication, if Tehya couldn’t settle that darkness, then Noah feared he’d lose the uncle who had risked his career as well as his life, to save him.
*
Lightning flared across the sky, sharp brilliant fingers of electricity shedding its brilliant glow over the Stanton estate as it pierced the night. Thunder rattled and rolled and sheets of rain blew through the night, saturating the ground and lending a heavy sensual excitement to the air outside.
The storm vibrated with primal fury, pounding through the night as well as the senses as Tehya sat in the large, well-padded chair that faced the window and stared into the heart of the storm.
She felt isolated, alone. Fear and worry crowded her mind, turning her senses bleak and reminding her of the danger there seemed to be no escape from.
She was thirty years old. For twenty-five years she had been on the run in one way or the other, fighting to survive, clawing for freedom. And God, she was so tired. She was so tired of hiding, of watching over her shoulder, of knowing whomever she loved, whoever tried to protect her, would only lose their life for their effort.
Tonight, as she had so many nights before, she was dressed in borrowed clothes, a nightgown in this case, and sleeping in a borrowed bed. She was watching the night, knowing the monsters that existed there, knowing that any moment they could be watching her, coming for her. Just as they had so many nights before.
Or Jordan could be coming.
Tucking her feet beneath her, Tehya laid her cheek against her knees and stared into the night, feeling the storm raging inside her as well.
She wanted to run.
Oh God, she should have run the minute she suspected she was being watched again. Why had she become so stubborn when Jordan had arrived? What in God’s name made her believe a house, a business, or friends was worth the risk Jordan and his men were facing?
Baby girl, all you had to do was come home. She would have lived.… Sorrel had laid the blame at her feet. But a part of Tehya had known better. He had wanted both of them. He had needed both of them.
You and your mother were the key to my future, to Kenneth’s future, he had sighed months before she had gone to Aruba. Come home, baby girl. Let Daddy take care of you. I promise you, the embrace of your brother will be far better than what awaits you otherwise.…
Running, hiding, losing friends, never knowing what true freedom was because she could never stop long enough to experience it.
It was still far better than the embrace of her brother.
She shuddered at the thought. When she had been younger, she had idolized Kenneth. When he would come to her and her mother’s rooms, unlock the door and take her out into the gardens to play. When he would laugh with her, tease her, and tell her stories of what the world was like. The parties she would one day attend if she were a very good girl. The life she could have if she obeyed the rules.
If she would tell him or her father if her mother ever tried to escape. All she had to do was be a very good girl.
Her chest tightened as her stomach rolled sickeningly. She had never told on her mother, but her mother hadn’t truly trusted her either. Tehya had been convinced the reason her mother had left her with Sister Mary was to test Tehya. And while running, Francine had learned exactly the danger she and her daughter faced.
A danger Tehya couldn’t escape, even with Sorrel’s and Kenneth’s deaths.
She rocked against herself, her arms tightening around her legs as a knot of agony burned in her chest, the need to release it like a knife twisting inside her soul.
Thunder rocked outside, and lightning blazed with a power and brilliance that lit the world with nature’s display of strength.
And how weak she was in comparison, not just to the storm, but to the danger surrounding her. The danger she had drawn Jordan and his men into.
The click of the bedroom door behind her drew her attention. Shadowed and dark, the tall, black-clad figure that stepped inside had her heart suddenly racing in much more than fear. Excitement and lust, emotions she had given up on fighting years ago, and a need for touch that threatened to leave her shaking.
The black mask covering his face didn’t hide his eyes. The brilliant blue looked brighter, more sapphire, almost neon as he closed the door, locking it behind him before prowling across the room, dangerous intent marking every line of his body.
“The curtains should be closed,” he informed her as he stepped around the chair, his back to her now as he reached up and jerked the heavy material across the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Anyone could have a bead on you, Tey.”
Turning to her, he pulled the mask from his face slowly, dropping it to the floor as he stared down at her. His expression was tight, savage, and radiated pure hungry lust as he gripped the bottom of the snug black shirt and pulled it off as well.
Sensation punched through her womb, clenching it tight as she felt her juices ease along the bare lips of her pussy. The electricity of the storm seemed to sizzle over her flesh, tightening her nipples, her clit, and racing across her body with a sudden, exciting surge of sensuality.
Dominance radiated in his face, his gaze.
“Are you wearing panties?” Guttural, fierce, his voice echoed with the hunger reflected in his eyes.
The surge of electric sensation that pulsed through her pussy was so strong, so deep, it was almost an orgasm. Her heart picked up further in speed, racing, pounding with pure excitement as his hands went to the black nylon belt, moving slowly, with predatory intent, and released the catch.
Tehya swallowed tightly. “No.”
Weakening sensuality swept through her at the smile that edged his lips. At the same time, he flipped the catch of his black pants loose, the edges spreading slowly apart as his cock sprang free.
Thick and long, the engorged crest had flushed a dark purple, moisture gleaming at the tip and over the tiny slit at the blunt point.
Heavily veined, wickedly erotic and explicit, the sensual demand apparent in the heavy stalk of flesh sent Tehya’s senses reeling.
Slowly, she unfolded her legs, leaned forward, her gaze lifting to meet his as her lips parted, her tongue peeking out for a taste of the silk-covered steel throbbing demandingly before her gaze.
Male heat exploded against her taste buds. A hint of salt, a hint of spice. Addictive, intoxicating, the taste of him was a hunger suddenly exploding inside her.
Reaching for him, the fingers of one hand curled at the base of his cock, unable to surround it with her fingers, but her lips parted, taking the thick hea
d between them, stretching around it to suck him inside.
The complete eroticism of the act was almost too much to bear. Her eyes closed, a moan trapped in her throat, vibrating there as she felt the hard throb of response against her tongue.
His fingers speared into her hair and clenched in the strands, tugging in sensual demand as she drew on the heated cock head, feeling his hands guiding her head, holding her in place as his hips began to move.
“Fuck, Tehya, I dream of this,” he growled. “Watching my dick fuck your mouth again. Seeing your pretty lips stretched around it, sucking me deep.”
She could feel her juices easing along the folds of her pussy, moistening her, preparing her for him.
She wanted him, with a desperation that clawed at her senses. His fingers flexed around the strands of hair he held, tugging at her scalp and sending an erotic fire radiating through it.
Pulsating need traveled through her senses. Flames of exquisite sensation raced over her flesh until she found her hands tugging at her gown, pulling it to her thighs as her fingers found the desperately aching bud of her clit. An agony of need filled her cunt, raging through it like a wildfire out of control.
A smothered cry escaped her as painful pleasure exploded through her. It wasn’t as good as his touch; sometimes he seemed to know her body better than she did, her pleasure better than she ever could. But with his dick in her mouth, her fingers stroking her clit, she could still sense the impending explosion and the rapture that would surround her.
Inside, she heated and clenched as her juices began to saturate her fingers.
“Fuck. Tehya.” The growl had her jerking in response as a shudder raced through her.
“Let me see, baby.” He tried to move back, to pull free of the grip her mouth had on him. She couldn’t allow it. She couldn’t release him just yet, not as long as this pleasure was tearing through her.
His grip tightened, male determination apparent as his cock pulled from her lips and her eyes flared open in rejection.
“No. Not yet.” She pulled her fingers from between her thighs, both hands reaching for him now.