Trusting Love

by Billi Jean

  “How can that be? He’s dead… I mean, you’re supposed to be dead. I know, I mean, I heard—” She frowned harder, looking so adorably caught between surprise and outrage that he might be lying to her, she made him grin.

  An unfamiliar feeling of warmth settled over him, relaxing the tension in his muscles and easing something deep within his chest.

  “I don’t understand,” she went on, clearly thrown. She even reached out and to his shock, touched his eyebrow over his left eye where the bones there had had to be reconstructed leaving behind a slight scar through his eyebrow. Her fingers were so gentle he barely felt them, but he didn’t dare breathe for fear of stopping her. She’d always, always stayed back from him, her loyalty to Daniel complete—until she’d divorced the stupid bastard. By then Robert had been unable to get close enough to her to do more than watch her from a distance.

  “You look different,” she finally said and dropped her hand to her side.

  “Yeah, a couple of surgeries saved my life, but they also ruined my good looks,” he joked, for some damn reason.

  “Oh.” She sat back and stared at him as if she could see beyond the damage he’d lived through to the man he used to be. He wondered what she saw. His jaw had needed wiring and realigning. The new line of it always caught him off guard when he looked at himself in the mirror. That, and the damage to his nose and left eye, which now was more grey than blue, made him appear like a different man. He’d felt like one too. The drugs, the changes forced on him by the serum and the new looks had made dying a piece of cake since he didn’t feel like Robert McNeil when he’d got up from his hospital bed.

  Staring at Kristen he realised he felt like himself again. Like he could actually be that man he’d been, before life went to hell.

  Does she recognise me under all the changes?

  Whatever she thought, she took her time thinking it. He almost squirmed under her dark-eyed stare and caught himself wanting to say something, anything to fill the silence. The only thing that stopped him was what to say. He had too many regrets to even know where to begin.

  She exhaled heavily and still looking at him oddly, she finally shook her head in disbelief, saving him from having to start his apologies. He’d have to make amends, though, sooner or later, he’d have to tell her how much he’d let her down. When he did, she might never gaze at him with that banked interest he’d recognised in her eyes all those years ago. Or the simmering passion he knew lurked beneath her surface.

  “I can’t believe it’s you. First of all I heard—everyone heard you had been…”

  “Killed,” he supplied when she couldn’t seem to. “Didn’t happen. They just made a newer model of me, don’t you think?”

  She huffed at that and brushed a long tendril of silky hair off her cheek and behind her ear. “Well, the Robert I knew never fished for compliments, either.”

  He choked on a laugh at that. Kristen always had that bit of spunk and teasing. He was glad to see a glimmer remained in the Latin beauty. She’d been shy with her humour, and he couldn’t claim he’d been a close friend, but he’d watched her at a few parties and had seen the way she’d made others comfortable with her quick wit. He’d stayed away from the temptation of her as often as he could, but he knew things about her he doubted anyone, even Kristen knew. The bits and pieces he knew of her and her life, he’d learned from watching her to a degree that bordered on unhealthy at times. Especially when she showed such loyalty to a man that didn’t deserve to open a door for her.

  “I’ve never had to rely on my looks, Kris.”

  “Oh, that’s such a lie, but it is you, isn’t it? Oh my God! I thought you were some kind of mobster or something…” She looked away from him then back quickly. Her dark eyes glistened but she pulled it back under control and asked, “Who shot you?”

  Of all the questions she must have, that wasn’t one he’d expected. And he wasn’t about to answer it either. The men called him a bulldog after a bone when he wanted information, but the woman perched on the bed next to him took ferreting out what she wanted to know to a fine art. He’d heard from a few guys that when her husband had lost at poker, she’d find out no matter how hard Daniel or his friends tried to hide it. He’d always wondered why she’d ended up with a loser like Daniel, especially when the man went through money like most men go through disposable razors. Now Daniel was dead, and Kristen was here—like a gift from God, only he wasn’t ready for her. Not yet. First he had to complete this mission and get himself all set for her.

  “Doesn’t matter, Kris. Just get me down off this mountain—”

  She shook her head and stopped him in mid-demand. “I can’t. We’re snowed in.”

  He processed that and tried to move his body up the bed. A man shouldn’t carry on a conversation with a woman while he was flat on his back. She put a hand on his bare shoulder and stopped him.

  “You shouldn’t move. I got the blood flow to slow, but I’m pretty sure those bullets need to come out. We’re snowed in pretty good. It snowed all night and it’s been snowing most of the morning. It probably will be for the next few days at the least. It might be a week before we’re ploughed out.”

  He made to rise at that but she touched his arm, stopping him as simple as that. “I’m not sure, but I think moving might not be the thing to do, right?”

  “I don’t have a week. I need off this mountain and down to town. Hell, I didn’t know you lived here, but I guess I’m lucky you do. You can drive us down this shit. I’ve seen your crazy driving before.”

  “You have?” she asked, sounding disbelieving, but at his nod, she shook her head again. “Well, you will have to just wait. I’m not driving in this. The roads are already covered in four foot of snow. I’d need to be nuts to drive in a blizzard, forget it.”

  He heard the logic but dismissed it with a growing sense of panic. He couldn’t be snowed in. Already he was fighting just to keep his hands to himself. The hand on his chest had gone straight to his brain, and his mind had conjured an image of her letting him take that hand and pull her closer so he could finally taste those pale, pink lips.

  That couldn’t happen because if he got a chance to kiss Kristen, he wasn’t going to be able to live without kissing her. He steadied his mind on the mission and got himself in a sitting position, ignoring her immediate protest and gave her his signature frown.

  “Look, you know I wouldn’t ask you to do such a thing if it wasn’t vital. I can drive then, just let me borrow your vehicle.”

  She stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. Seconds ticked by like minutes while she showed no sign of backing down. She glanced away to his shoulder and lifted one of her delicately shaped eyebrows. He glanced down and groaned at the blood dripping from his wound—both wounds. They throbbed, reminding him that he’d missed his dosage now by more than two days. He needed the bullets out. He’d go without the drug for a bit longer. Kylie had said the effects were still in his system for at least seventy-two hours before withdrawal symptoms started making him crazy. He still had hours to go.

  “It looks to me like you might want to wait on the driving.” She folded her arms under her breasts and the scoop neck of her sweater slid down her shoulder, revealing the pink thin strap of her bra and her bare shoulder.

  His body fired slowly, the blood loss maybe limiting the supply now heading down south. He gritted his teeth and concentrated on baseball stats, running through every double hitter on his favourite team before he could meet her eyes again.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he growled, then settled down and continued in a calmer voice. “All right, maybe you’re right. But I need you to dig these bullets out. If you can do that, I might be able to drive down. It’s important Kris, I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

  She gaped at him as if he’d just shown her exactly how fine certain parts of his body were, then snapped her mouth shut and stood. “Oh, I see. It’s important. It probably has to do with the two
bullets right now inside your body, but guess what? I’m not in the military, I don’t take orders, and I’m not a doctor.”

  “I know that, I didn’t mean to say you were. I know you were a vet assistant, though, so I know you can do this. I can help you,” he added.

  “Crazy. I’m stuck with a crazy person,” she muttered, walking to the door and shooting him a frown over her shoulder when she stopped just inside the room. “You rest, I’ll go get you some painkillers and maybe something to help you realise just how crazy you sound, okay?” she asked in a sweeter-than-honey voice, then walked out and slammed the door.

  By the side of the bed, Robert heard a dog woof softly. Robert dragged his gaze off the door in amazement to stare at the mangy mutt. The dog tilted his head and woofed again and if Robert had to guess, the dog had just called him an idiot. The mutt lowered his head to his paws with a snort and settled comfortably on his checkered doggie bed.

  Robert scanned the room. He was not only stuck in a cabin with a woman he wanted more than anything he’d ever wanted in his life, but he was in her bed.

  Alone.

  An idiot for certain, but he wasn’t going to do this. He couldn’t.

  She might have won this first round, but he wasn’t going to let her off so easily the next time around. He’d recognised the intensity in her eyes, the passion just under the surface, and much more—the interest she couldn’t hide. She might have been fired up in anger, but before that, he’d seen the way passion had stirred.

  He needed the bullets out so he could go as soon as the snowstorm broke, but if while he recovered they got time to explore what he saw simmering in her eyes, so be it.

  But as soon as he could, he needed to get off this mountain. As long as he kept that in mind, he’d be fine.

  Chapter Five

  Eric knocked on Duke’s door, waited and walked in after he heard Duke murmur he could enter. He’d heard that Sonya had left the compound and while that pissed him off, he’d also been intrigued by Duke’s personal email asking him to join him for coffee.

  “Come, come, please, come sit, Mr Walters. I see you have recovered from your wound already.”

  “Good as new,” Eric said, sitting in one of the two high-backed leather chairs near a fireplace opposite the door. The man knew how to live, that was certain. If things went as Eric planned, he’d be living the same very soon.

  “You wanted to see me?” he asked.

  “I did.” Duke sat down and his secretary, a leggy dark-haired bombshell wearing a dressy business suit in black, with a tiny skirt, brought them coffee. She had the sexiest glasses, with just the hint of school teacher to them that made Eric shift in his seat to make room for the swelling going under the fabric of his jeans.

  She leaned over to give him a view of her rack when she handed him a cup, then sat on the arm of Duke’s chair, and started petting the man’s hair in the back, leaning those breasts against his arm. Duke picked up one of her hands and pulled her close to his face to kiss her. It wasn’t a casual kiss but a mark of ownership, and by the grip the man had on her breast, dominance. She lapped it up, but with style. Clearly the two were more than merely boss and secretary.

  After turning him on to the point of discomfort, the couple released each other’s lips, but Duke kept hold of her breast, pinching the nipple with enough force to make Eric sweat in appreciation. He loved breast play, his, hers, whatever, he was game.

  “Behave, my dear, and you can stay,” Duke murmured. “Can you do that?”

  The woman arched her neck and smiled teasingly at Duke, something that surprised Eric. Duke loved playing the Dom. He’d introduced Eric to the fun involved in making a woman so hot she’d do anything and wanted everything from a man. It was interesting to see that with the little secretary he accepted her defiance with fondness.

  “Yes, if you say so,” she whispered purposely loud enough for Eric to hear.

  Duke seemed to enjoy the play, because he released her nipple and instead of punishing her, put her hand on his lap. She smiled and leaned in to whisper something he couldn’t hear this time, but whatever it was seemed to please Duke because he kissed her again, this time with a touch more heat—if that was possible. The secretary sure seemed unconcerned with stroking Duke to the point of making Eric’s eager cock wet his jeans in jealousy.

  Hell, coffee was code for sex.

  Duke released her after another long, intense kiss and eyed Eric with a smile, not offended by his obvious enthusiasm for the little show.

  “I see you’re still in need of attention, Mr Walters, perhaps we can help you with that, but let us discuss the situation on the mountain first.”

  Eric’s attention immediately shifted from his hard-on to the boss. First and foremost this job was important—much more important than getting laid.

  Duke looked relaxed, as if they were drinking Scotch instead of sipping coffee while the man got a hand job. People were odd, Eric knew, but this scene was something he’d not expected.

  “I have heard you did well on the mission. You ended the boy’s life perfectly. Then did the job of torching the house so it will appear as if it was a gas leak unless we need it to be something else altogether, am I correct?”

  Eric nodded and adjusted himself under the sexy eye of Duke’s secretary. The way she watched his lap, he thought he could feel her hand on him, rather than on Duke.

  “Yes, sir. The blaze went off without a hitch, but if we can’t locate McNeil, we can blame him for the fire and smoke him out.” He grinned at his joke, and Duke smiled, laughing lightly.

  “Ah, a man of clear vision and humour,” he murmured. “I also hear that you have found relaxation from one of our nurses. I am glad to hear that she suits you, but I had thought you had more, shall we say, refined tastes. In fact, I had wondered if a man like you wouldn’t like to view a few of the results from my new round of testing.”

  “Testing, sir?”

  “Please—Duke, not this ‘sir’. No one calls me such things outside of our play, not even my wife, Victoria.”

  Wife? Eric realigned his thinking to include the secretary as Duke’s wife with some effort. He’d seen the man with numerous women, none of which were this one. But the rich would play and Duke was richer than a hundred Donald Trumps could ever dream of being.

  “Ah, I think we have confused our good man, Victoria. Mr Walters—”

  “Eric is fine.”

  “Ah, Eric, a fine German name, I believe.” Duke nodded, his classically handsome face breaking into a grin. He looked a bit younger, maybe in his late thirties instead of early forties, but ages weren’t Eric’s thing. “Victoria and I have been married for only a few weeks. My association with the clubs has now been cut to merely fun for us when we need a more, shall we say, stimulating experience, am I right, my dear?”

  “Yes, I agree. The clubs were Duke’s way of enjoying his life in all its various levels. Now, though, we have each other for that,” she offered. She appeared to mean it too—for all her ogling Eric’s rod, she hadn’t really taken her hands off Duke since they’d sat down. Newlyweds, no doubt. It’d wear off.

  “And now, you are married and stay at home?” Eric asked, half in disbelief when the couple shared another softer kiss.

  They laughed and Victoria pouted. “I assure you, I can satisfy all my husband’s cravings, Eric. And he, I can most readily admit, satisfies me in every way.”

  Eric heard the sexy tone and went to total hard-on. Inappropriate as hell, but what could he say? A woman like Victoria could make a saint hard. Duke caressed her arm down to her hand and back again, clearly as enthralled by her as she was by him.

  “You see, our relationship has also benefited from my newest batch of experiments on genetic modifications. You might say we are living proof of its success. The newest round of drugs has by far exceeded my wildest dreams,” Duke said. “Don’t you agree, my dear?”

  “Absolutely. Without Duke, I would be incomplete, still wandering,
” she murmured. “Now, I have my other half.”

  “Yes, exactly. The newer, improved modifications make this possible.” Duke nodded and fed Victoria a bit of scone, kissing her softly afterwards. He turned back to Eric, and leant forward, his hands on the table between them in the casual pose of a man wanting to talk shop. Eric sat forward as well, meeting the man halfway, intrigued despite how corny the two of them sounded.

  “Our success, though, depends on us retrieving and eliminating this flash drive and the formula on it. If someone else can produce similar results, Eric, I won’t own the market on this research. For us to be absolutely assured, I must have all of Dr Chung’s notes from his first attempts on to the serum he created. The first batch was closer to success than he ever understood—if he’d only realised what the potential was. Someone else with that file might discover what I have. If they do…”

  “Then they can become competitors. But DeRoy did have the original hard drive, so we know that McNeil has it now. We find that and destroy it as soon as we can and all is golden, right?”

  “Ah, yes, but it’s best to be assured of success. I want Chung checked out thoroughly, eliminated if possible. If he designed this once, I can’t believe he’d eliminate all his notes, no matter what the Pentagon says. Sonya has taken a team to secure that end for me, and you will clean up this mess here for me, won’t you?”

  “Yes, of course.” He made a move to get up, and Duke shook his head.

  “No, no of course not now, please, it’s snowing. My men say it will continue on today until early tomorrow. By late tomorrow afternoon we will be drinking a toast to success, Mr Walters. But now, I wanted to share with you my results of the modification drug, and to show you the new improved solider drug. And, of course, if you would like, you may also begin treatments.”