Waiting For You (The Guardians: Book 3)

by D. M. Mortier

  “I trust you got the intel that delayed this mission,” Dominic questioned.

  “Yeah, we did.” Sean’s voice was clipped, his words coming through clenched teeth. “We have to move. We have another set of motherfuckers to put down, and Rico needs medical attention. He has lost a lot of blood.”

  “I don’t understand.” Malika gazed up at him, confusion and disbelief evident in her voice and expression. “What intel? You deliberately went dark?”

  Sean pulled on the sweatpants Neo had thrown to him.

  “Take me home,” Rico mumbled in a pain-soaked voice.

  “We should stop to the local hospital first, man.” Sean was more worried about Rico than he was letting on. He hadn’t been kidding when he said that Rico had lost a lot of blood, but Sean was concerned over the infection he was certain was setting into Rico’s limb by now.

  “No. Home. Cherone,” Rico insisted.

  “Let’s roll.” Dominic moved swiftly to the door with Neo helping him with Rico’s weight. The other men followed them out the door.

  Sean grabbed Malika’s hand.

  “Hey.”

  He ignored her protests and dragged her behind him as he followed the guys out. “This time you went too far. You shouldn’t have come here!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Malika watched in awe as Sean tended to Rico. It was amazing how the SEALs improvised with the little provisions they had. With the small first-aid kit on the jet, Sean, with Dominic’s help, took out the bullet from Rico’s leg and cleaned and sterilized his wounds. Neo went behind them and stitched anything needing stitches. The love they felt for Rico was palatable.

  Once they boarded the aircraft, Sean had pushed her into a seat at the back of the jet with a clipped, “Stay put.” He seemed to have forgotten about her. Malika couldn’t wrap her mind around someone deliberately letting himself be captured and subjecting himself to torture only to obtain intel. It turned out that the information was important, but it very well could have been minor and not worth the sacrifice.

  She knew that Sean was pissed at her, and it was sad to say she wouldn’t have done anything different even if she had known the facts. Keeping herself busy, she started researching the politician, trying to connect the dots.

  Hours later, Malika woke as Sean lifted her from her seat. She must have fallen asleep while on her laptop because he closed the lid of the computer, sat, and settled her onto his lap.

  “How is Rico?” Malika mumbled.

  “Go to sleep.”

  His husky voice vibrated deep in his chest and sent shivers down her spine. His big male body made her feel protected. She hissed through her teeth in annoyance at her weakness for him even in these circumstances. This guy has been tortured and starved, and here I am thinking of ways to jump his bones. Pathetic! “Should I go over there and find out?”

  “He’s fine.” His voice was impatient now.

  Malika looked up into his face, frustrated by the continuous acrimony between them. He had his eyes closed and his head thrown back against the headrest. Despite the many cuts and bruises on his face, he looked calm and seemed as though he didn’t have a worry in the world.

  “Sean, when are you going to stop being mad at me? I was worried and thought you needed help.”

  He remained silent for a few moments before opening his eyes and gazing down at her.

  Malika sucked in a deep breath at how dull the green depths of his eyes were, conveying more than words how exhausted he probably was. She was immediately concerned and wondered who had taken care of his injuries after they had tended to Rico.

  “Can I get you anything? Did you clean your wounds? Did you take anything for that headache?”

  “How the hell do you know I have a headache?” he grouched.

  “You’ve been grimacing ever since you joined us,” she said simply. Now he knows how much I watch him.

  “Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I haven’t slept in three days. I’m running hard on empty. We’ll have a conversation real soon, but not now.” He dropped his head back against the rest and closed his eyes.

  “But—”

  “Go to sleep, Duchess.” His lips barely moved.

  Malika, feeling almost like a petulant child, eventually rested against his chest.

  His body jerked slightly under her weight.

  “I felt that,” Malika hissed. Frowning down at him in concern, she became pissed when he didn’t bother to open his eyes. “Did you let the guys take care of your wounds?”

  “Go to sleep,” he mumbled.

  “Dominic!” Malika yelled, the distress in her voice palatable. She climbed off Sean’s lap.

  The commander immediate ran toward her. “What is it?” His voice was laced with concern.

  “It’s nothing,” Sean muttered with clenched teeth.

  “This idiot is hurt.” Malika couldn’t help frustrating tears from clogging her throat. “Please help him,” she choked out.

  “Is she right?” Dominic asked.

  “It’s just a simple bullet,” Sean protested.

  The commander’s curses were long and colorful. Soon, he had Neo and the other men beside him. Almost an hour later, they had dug the bullet from Sean’s shoulder and bandaged the wound. Sean was impatient during the entire process.

  Afterward, Malika gingerly climbed back into his lap and finally they both fell into a deep sleep.

  A few weeks later, that promised talk had still not taken place. They had arrived in Miami to a panicked wife, who threatened to leave Rico if he didn’t stop playing soldier. Cherone had taken Rico’s injuries hard. Given her advanced stage of pregnancy, everybody was initially worried. She had screamed, cried, punched Sean for letting Rico get hurt again, and then treated Rico like precious glass.

  Malika was almost ready to clock her one, wife or no wife. She had no right to hit Sean like that. Sean had suffered too, and by the looks of things, he was still suffering in silence. She saw the slight grimace he gave when Cherone hit him in the stomach, and the idiot still went after the politician as soon as they placed Rico into Cherone’s tender loving care.

  Malika spent the first few days moping around Rico and Cherone’s now repaired house in Miami when she wasn’t playing with their son. Sean had left with the guys and basically told her to stay put until he got back. Who the hell does he think he is? He’s treating me like I’m some damn lap dog.

  She felt truly lost for the first time in years. Before, when it had been just a love she carried in secret, she had suffered in silence. And then, when they had finally made love, although without him realizing what he was doing, she had savored every touch, every kiss, and every intimate moment she had had with him. Now that everything was in limbo between them, it was the first time she felt off-balance and unsure of where she stood with him.

  After not getting even a text from Sean in the time she was in Miami, Malika then reconnected with the Agency. She got chewed out by the chief himself for going MIA during a time they needed all hands on deck. However, they assigned her a new handler once she had satisfactorily debriefed. She was immediately summoned back to London. It took them a few days of further interrogation before they embroiled her into an ongoing operation.

  Now she was back in London warming a seat in front of yet another computer monitor and following the progress of two agents. Stationed in a flat in Chelsea, courtesy of the Agency, she tracked both agents’ progress in Hong Kong.

  Some days ago, the Republican politician Sean and his SEAL mates had been after had been arrested for funding a terrorist cell. Apparently the Republican had wanted to force America to go to war against ISIS by funding a massive terrorist attack at the Super Bowl. Based on the intel Sean and Rico had uncovered in Australia, the plot had been uncovered and averted before it could be carried out.

  Malika had watched the news dispassionately, happy that Sean’s and Rico’s suffering hadn’t been in vain and they had saved millions of lives; b
ut she had also been sad because she finally realized that Sean would probably never appreciate or respect her as a professional. Not once had he asked for her help or included her in their mission. Not only did his attitude piss her off, it also made her terribly sad. It was time she purged him from her life once and for all. I’ve wasted enough years waiting on him. Enough already! And for once my body is in total harmony with my damn mood. I’ve been puking my guts out every time I eat. I must have picked up some stomach bug. But I’d like to think it’s just my body signaling to me that I must stop wasting my life on a man who will never care for me the way I care for him or the way I deserve to be cared for.

  Malika’s computer beeped with an incoming message.

  Sean: Where the hell are you?

  Malika deleted the message without responding to it. He had been sending her similar messages several times a day for the past week. For the first week that he hadn’t called or messaged her, she had been despondent and gutted. As soon as the first message came from him, it was like a switch had been triggered in her brain, and then she had gotten pissed. This was when she had started vomiting.

  Just like now. Her stomach started churning, and her mouth pickled with the sickening sensation to puke. Malika raced to the bathroom and remained prostrate in front of the porcelain commode for a long time with hurtful dry heaves. She hadn’t eaten all day to avoid this very thing. And now at four p.m., there was nothing left in her stomach to expel. I know I look like hell. I’ve lost over ten pounds, and my clothes just hang on me. I’m too damn lazy and tired to go get new clothes or to even leave this flat. I probably need to go see a doctor, but I’m too bloody lazy to do that too.

  A few hours later, another message came on her computer. Malika raised her head weakly and read the message from her handler, Sarah Cummings, in shock.

  Sarah: Sean Anderson is holding the chief hostage at gunpoint unless he reveals your location. Of course, the chief has no idea where you are, none of us does. Can you please come in before this guy hurts someone?

  Malika stared at the message for several seconds, unable to fathom the Sean Anderson that she knew doing something so insane. Despite his devil-may-care attitude, he had always been about law and order, and that was the reason he’d joined the SEALs to begin with.

  Malika: You must be mistaken; Sean would never do such a thing.

  Instead of answering her message, Sarah sent her a video of Sean in the chief’s office sitting nonchalantly in a chair with his feet up on the desk and his gun aimed steadily on the director. A few agents were in the room with their hands tied behind their backs.

  Malika grabbed her phone that was sitting on her desk next to her computer. She punched in a series of numbers.

  Sean picked up the phone on the second ring.

  Malika: “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Sean: “Getting your damn attention.”

  Malika: “This is a bad way of doing it. In fact, this is an idiotic way of getting my attention. Are you that anxious to see the inside of a prison?”

  Sean: “That’s the thing with being a duke; it does have a few benefits. So are you going to tell me where you are, or do I actually have to kill someone before you stop doing this disappearing bullshit?”

  Malika: “I don’t want to see you. You can go back and play hero with your boys.”

  Sean: “It doesn’t matter what you want or don’t want. You became mine when you gave yourself to me.”

  Malika: “I might have consented to making love with you once or twice, but I’ve never consented to you treating me like shit.”

  Sean: “Where are you Malika?”

  Malika sucked in her breath in shock. Sean had only called her Malika once before. That time he was pissed at her too. What the hell did he have to be angry about?

  Malika: “I’ll meet you at your flat in Kensington.”

  Sean: “When?”

  Malika: “Tomorrow.”

  Malika pulled the phone from her ear at Sean’s bark of laughter. She put the phone back when he started to speak.

  Malika: “What?”

  Sean: “Tonight!”

  Malika: “You’re being ridiculous.”

  Sean: “Tonight, or I totally fuck up everyone here.”

  Sean disconnected the phone.

  Malika looked around the flat, not really seeing anything. I feel like I’m living in a damn twilight zone. How dare he just show up after not talking to me and basically ignoring me to demand I go to him? What absolute arrogance. Well, I ain’t the one! And that bastard is about to find that out.

  Hours later, Malika stepped over the threshold of Sean’s flat. It had taken her at least two hours to shower, shave the excess hair from various areas of her body, wash her hair, blow dry and hot curl it, and finally beat her face to the gods. Her make-up was flawless. She may be pissed at him, but she was going to look damn good when giving him hell. She grimaced at how pale and tired her face looked. It took extra applications of concealers, powders, and highlights to make her look alive. That’s what two days without food and constant vomiting does to a person. It is only my self-righteous anger keeping me up right now. Oh God, I’ve forgotten what the sight of Sean does to me. My breath is stuck in my chest, and I feel lightheaded.

  Sean stood back and let her enter without a word.

  “I’m shocked that you’re not cooling your heels in one of HMPs.” Malika started on the attack to distract him from her unsteady limbs and sudden nausea. She breathed in and out slowly to try and suppress the predictable dry heaves and dizziness.

  “Her Majesty’s Prison?” Sean laughed. “Chief Harrington is a schoolmate of my dad’s. He was only too happy to help a future member of the nobility,” Sean smirked. “And he liked knowing something my dad would kill to know.”

  “Figures,” Malika muttered, her voice dripping with irritation. Concentrating on every step she took to remain on her feet, she walked farther into the flat and looked around. The space was what she expected for a man of his wealth: spacious and stylishly decorated with expensive antiques, paintings, and the latest electronics. It was chic and beautiful. “Where are Owen and Monica?”

  “Why should I not be surprised that you know the names of my butler and housekeeper?” When she didn’t answer him and just waited with an angry scowl on her face, he grinned. “I gave them the night off. Their sensibilities may have been offended if I took you over my knee.”

  “What do you want, Sean?” Malika was not amused with his attempt at humor. At least she hoped that he was only joking.

  “I want plenty.” His voice lowered and seemed to come from deep in his chest. “My most pressing need is to have you spread out on my bed in blazing light. I want to finally enjoy every inch of that beautiful body.”

  Malika couldn’t suppress the answering shivers of her body at the husky gravel in his voice. “Go to hell,” she whispered without heat.

  “What have you done to yourself?” Sean moved closer to her, crowding her space.

  She took a step back, trying to put some space between them. However, the sudden movement made her sway unsteadily.

  Sean reached out to capture her.

  Malika tried to evade his touch and was horrified when she felt herself falling into a black void.

  Malika woke up slowly. Her mouth felt dry, and she immediately wanted water. She looked around the dimly lit room and was confused to see Sean sitting in a chair beside her bed, asleep. She tried to raise her head but fell back against the pillow; her head felt too heavy for her neck.

  Sean stirred. “How do you feel?” he asked gently.

  “Water, “she croaked weakly.

  He stood and poured water into a glass from a pitcher on the nightstand. Before handing her the glass, he helped her to sit up.

  Even after she was sitting with pillows propping her up, Malika found that she was too weak to hold the glass.

  Sean held the glass to her lips.

  She closed her
eyes in bliss as the cool liquid soothed her dry mouth and throat. After a few sips, she pushed the glass away.

  “Where am I?” Thankfully her voice sounded much stronger.

  “You’re in a private doctor’s office. We’ve been here since last night.”

  “Last night? What time is it? And why did you bring me here?”

  Sean glanced at his watch. “It’s a little after seven in the morning.” He replaced the glass on the nightstand and then caged her in with his arms on either side of her head. His green gaze drilled into her. “You did a face plant in front of me. What the hell were you thinking? The doctor said you were severely dehydrated and could have harmed the baby if you hadn’t been treated.”

  “Baby? What baby? What are you talking about?” Malika frowned at him in confusion.

  “You didn’t realize you were pregnant with my kid?”

  “I’m not pregnant! And certainly not by you.”

  Sean lowered his head, his lips inches from hers. “You’ve never been with anyone else but me.”

  “I…”

  He glared down at her and growled, “Deny it and I swear to God you’ll regret it.”

  She pushed at his broad chest, but he didn’t budge.

  “Say it, Duchess,” he demanded through clenched teeth.

  “What happened to Malika?”

  “What?”

  “You called me Malika last night.”

  “I was pissed. You ran off on me again. I’m tired of that shit. It reminded me too much of when you’d sneaked into my flat, fuck my brains out, and then disappear.”

  “You knew who I was?” She was helpless to prevent her mouth from popping open and her eyes widening in shock. He had just shaken the foundation of her belief for the past two years.

  “Who the hell do you think I am? I’m not in the habit of sleeping with women I don’t know.”He brushed her lips with his. “Of course I knew who you were. It killed me not coming after you.”