“I didn’t think he did.”
“I’ve had sex once. Exactly one time. That’s it.” And it sucked. Nine months after she left, he’d gone into a bar in France, just after an Alliance assignment ended. Drank too much and went looking for a one-night stand. The woman was nice, attractive . . . and he felt nothing except guilt. As if he were cheating on Cara. That’s how wrapped around and fucked up she had him.
Her eyes widened. “In sixteen months?”
The number shocked him, too. He’d toyed with a screw-her-out-of-his-system plan. The idea of entering into a series of no-strings one-night stands, running through woman after woman, sounded shitty to him. Like a nightmare for any woman unlucky enough to find him attractive during that time.
“Yeah, so next time you’re tempted to give me a lecture on not being serious about you or my feelings, save it.” Because loving her had shut him down. Even now the idea of being with anyone else left him feeling numb.
Now he really was done with this topic. The argument recharged him. Got the blood and anger flowing. He was pretty sure he could take on an army with one hand and no weapon if he had to.
“Reid . . .”
Problem was, he still didn’t know if he could handle being this close to her. He started walking. “Let’s go.”
11
THEY WALKED in silence as hours ticked by . . . or so it seemed. Cara guessed no more than fifteen minutes had passed, but spending even one minute with a pissed off man while he tromped across the field, shaking his head every two steps, made the seconds pass like an eternity.
His long legs gobbled up the distance. She had to speed up to nearly a jog to keep up. She understood the need to keep moving but was pretty sure he’d ramped up the pace for other reasons. Maybe he thought she’d be winded and unable to talk. Nice try, but no.
After what he’d said—about not dating anyone else—she should be out of breath. Right now she was stuck on confused as hell. Back then she’d looked at him—who he was and how shut off from anything and anyone but her and his team—and tried to get him to talk. When he acted as if everything was fine, always fine, and he pushed her concerns away, she pictured a long, lonely life of waiting at home while he ventured off to save person after person.
She knew he’d never share much, because he never did. The only hint about his past came from an offhand comment about growing up in the foster system. No clue as to what happened or the life experiences that brought him to the Alliance. Hell, she didn’t even know his real name. It was as if he marked time from the point at which he joined the team and expected her to do the same, ignoring the rest. Ignoring every hard question and all of her doubts.
She got it. She understood how the work he did shaped the man he was. Part of her also knew that a certain type—in command, protector, loner—went into that line of work. But she needed more, then and now. Relationships weren’t her thing. Opening up and loving someone made her feel raw and vulnerable. She’d tried with him, but when he met her every moment of doubt with a cursory “It’s fine,” she gave up. She had to own that. She’d been the one to walk away, but she’d always felt as if he’d pushed her.
Having been smothered growing up, her parents insisting that only artistic pursuits mattered and she needed to enjoy and feel each minute, Reid was a refreshing change. They were both driven and practical. With him, she didn’t hear constant reminders about how she’d almost died as a kid and needed to “respect the second chance life had given her.” She could almost hear her mother say those words.
Reid had admitted from the start that he didn’t know anything about science, but he made it clear he thought it was sexy that she did. For the first time, acceptance for who she really was rather than the sick kid who once beat cancer defined her.
But the practical side of her had balked. Doubt sparked. She’d wanted to accomplish so much more. The idea of being his sidekick, the woman he wandered home to now and then but never really confided in, made her stomach roil.
She walked away right then, because waiting even one more day would have made leaving him impossible. She’d already started justifying in her mind the idea of giving up her dreams and what she needed from him, and that change to her personality had scared her into moving out.
Seeing him now brought all those feelings of loss and longing she kept buried rushing up. She’d talked about how what they had couldn’t be more than adrenaline-fueled attraction because to say more would be to admit how hard she’d fallen in such a short time. How much she loved him. Loved him with every part of her. Not something her rational brain could accept. But she loved to look at him, touch him. His loyalty and decency in the face of astounding evil appealed to her on a very fundamental level.
Staying away from him for all those months had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. She’d thrown herself into work. Took one field assignment after another, each one more dangerous than the one before. She knew the choices amounted to running from her feelings and the gnawing sense of loss that consumed her. Knew it and ignored it. Pushed down all her churning confusion over him and tried to pretend it didn’t exist.
And now he was back . . . and she still loved him.
Nothing about him spoke to a need for revenge, even though he had every right to be angry with her. She hadn’t exactly left the relationship in the best way. It worked for her, but it must have bruised his ego. That hadn’t been the plan. She left for survival, before she got in too deep. Before wanting him became more important than the plans she had for herself and her life. Still, he’d ended up as collateral damage, and while she knew he’d gotten over it, that didn’t mean she didn’t owe him more.
Since he’d stepped back into her life just hours ago, she’d already seen him prickly and vibrating with fury. Wallowing in sarcasm and emotionally crouched down, ready to leap into a new round of verbal battle if she said the wrong thing. Now he whistled. For some reason that nonchalance irritated her more than the rest.
She was about to comment on his new talent when he stopped. He held up a fist, and she assumed that meant she should match her steps to his and halt. Not that she intended to go out exploring anyway. Despite their history and the ton of baggage piled between them, she wasn’t stupid. In a situation like this you stayed close to the guy with the gun and the training.
When nothing happened except more staring from Reid, she leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “What is it?”
“The rumbling.”
She had no idea what that meant. The only sounds she heard came from the swish of the branches in the wind and the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears. He was the cause of the latter. “Could you be more specific?”
“This way.” Before she could answer, he had her hand and pulled her with him. They veered off to the left and kept going toward a steep slope. The same one he’d warned her about a few minutes ago. “You still run every day?”
She was almost afraid to answer that. “Maybe.”
“Good.” He tightened her backpack straps then nodded. “Get ready.”
“For?” Instead of answering her, he broke into a jog, pulling her along with him. She tried to stop and skid, but his grip didn’t ease.
Her foot slid as he dragged her over the crest of the hill. The landscape in front of her dropped away and the view morphed into nothing but gray sky. No horizon. Just a forty-five degree drop to a rocky gravel bed and a snaking stream carved through the bottom of the valley.
Her knees buckled as she fought to get her footing. A stumble would hurt and gravity would drag her the whole way down. The thick soles of her boots grabbed onto chunks of hill then gave way. She fell hard on her hip but her body kept going.
Reid wrapped his arms around her, stopping the painful slide. His weight anchored them there, a quarter of the way down. Hanging from the hillside.
After some tugging, her bag slipped off her shoulders and he tore it off and shoved it farther down the hill. If not for the way he draped his l
egs over her, she would have slid along with her things. She looked up to say something but he was already moving. He flattened her on her back. A second later he moved over her, not bothering to give her any space or ease up on the pressure.
Their bodies met from chests to thighs. Heavy breathing wound around her. Not his, hers. He remained still, covering every inch of her like a human shield.
Her chest ached and a new round of banging started in her head. She put her hands on his chest to push him up a bit and catch her breath. Then she felt it. The stiffness of his body. How alert and primed for action he was. He held a gun and another lay in the grass by her shoulder.
They had company. She didn’t need a signal or an explanation. Understood his body language.
She strained, keeping still as she tried to pick up whatever stray sound had tipped him off. The creak came first. Then the sound of tires bouncing against rocks and uneven ground. An engine growled as a car or truck or whatever it was pulled closer.
Reid wrapped an arm around her head and tucked her even tighter beneath him. With his face this close, she could see every whisker where the scruff around his chin had started to fill in. Heat rolled off his body, and with his head ducked low their cheeks almost met.
The brakes squeaked as the vehicle chugged to a stop. Voices floated above them. She looked up, seeing only a patch of sky peeking out around Reid’s shoulders. He still covered her but she sensed he was ready to pounce if men spilled over the top of the hill and headed toward them.
She waited for the footsteps. Tried to pick up some of the conversation from the little Russian she knew but the words raced by so fast she couldn’t understand much. She immediately regretted not taking some sort of speed language course before heading out here.
Male laughter rose into the air. The guttural sound sent a pained tremble racing through her. Panic blocked her throat. She tried to swallow the lump back but couldn’t.
A car door banged. Then another.
Reid leaned up on his elbow and aimed. Tension pounded off of him. She thought she could feel his heartbeat hammer against her.
She didn’t know the plan but the end result would be the same—more death.
More talking. Right above them now. Near the top of the hill. If the men stepped to the edge and looked down they would see Reid’s body. Maybe not hers, but Reid’s would be enough to cause the world to break into chaos once again.
She thought she heard the word for body but wasn’t sure. She’d stopped breathing, or tried to. She dug her fingers into Reid’s side. He didn’t even flinch.
A few more seconds passed and the world began to spin on her. The dizziness hit her out of nowhere. So did the need to roll to her stomach and throw up. The tension tightened until the air choked off inside her. She wanted to scream but the words stayed locked in her head.
She closed her eyes and counted to ten. Tried to inhale without making a sound. When she got to eight, another door slammed. This time a string of angry words came fast and furious. Yelling, shouting orders maybe. Footsteps thundered against the ground. They’d been spotted. That had to be the explanation. She had no idea how fast Reid could shoot or how many he could hit, but she hoped his training proved half as good as she always dreamed it had been.
Forcing her hands to unclench, she felt around on the ground beside her for the extra gun. Her fingertips touched the metal as the vehicle sputtered to life again. The vehicle idled . . . right? She concentrated, sure she heard the unmistakable sound of an engine. The voices faded and tires crunched.
Reid exhaled as he raised himself. He held up a finger, which she assumed meant to stay quiet. As if she needed that warning. Then he crawled, not making a sound. Somehow, he moved his impressive body around, all that muscle, as if he weighed nothing.
He got to the top of the hill and looked around before he slid down toward her again. Instead of sitting next to her, however, he climbed on top of her, balancing most of his upper body weight on his elbows.
“They’re gone.” His whisper barely registered over the sound of the soft breeze.
She’d picked up that much. It was the rest of his actions that had her wriggling underneath him. “Then what are you doing?”
“Making sure there isn’t a second truck or group following behind on foot.”
That stopped her movements as well as the relief flowing through her. “I was hoping you wouldn’t say something like that.”
His fingers brushed through her hair. “It should be fine but we’ll wait for a few minutes to make sure.”
She couldn’t break contact with the gun sitting right next to her. Her fingers rested against the barrel. She thought about grabbing it just in case. “Are you sure they left?”
He eyed the extra gun then nodded. “You did great.”
“Since my job was to lay here and not cause trouble, yeah.” She tried to smile but couldn’t manage it. Probably had something to do with the way her teeth were chattering. The aftermath burn was going to kill her one of these times.
“It’s easy to panic in that type of situation. Most would.” His voice sounded so reassuring. Smooth and deep and so sexy. “But not you.”
Yeah, nice try. “It’s cute that you think I didn’t.”
Some of the tension left his face. “A smart person knows when to worry, and you’re pretty damn smart.”
The conversation headed to a strange place. Since they kept getting thrown into the middle of shoot-outs and lethal scouting parties, this level of strangeness shouldn’t have been a surprise. Still, they needed to work together, and that meant clearing the air. Or at least trying to unmuddy it a little. “I think we should talk about this.”
He frowned. “The truck?”
“This.” She waved a hand in the small space between them. “Us.”
He shot her a you’ve-lost-your-mind look. He actually excelled at that expression. “Now?”
“You said we shouldn’t move.”
He straightened up high enough to glance around then ducked his head again. “Or talk. Did I not mention that part?”
“We both know you threw that in as an afterthought just now to shut me down.” He had to know from experience that she took his directions pretty seriously at times like this. She didn’t doubt he’d use that prior knowledge to his advantage if he didn’t want a challenge from her.
His face went blank. “After sixteen months, now you’re all chatty?”
She couldn’t read him, but the word “chatty” made her back teeth grind together. “We talked back then.”
“No, you talked.” Anger vibrated in his whisper. “You decided we should have been a short fling. Sex, fun, adrenaline. Done.”
His voice had turned singsongy. She guessed he was trying to mimic her, and she fought the urge to punch him in the shoulder. Not that she could get off a good shot from this position anyway. “That is not true. I tried . . . Forget it. We are not plowing over that same ground again.”
“Fine.” His voice suggested her explanation was anything but.
“The point is, we knew each other for about a week before you proposed.”
He frowned at her. “So?”
That would be a sufficient explanation for most people. “What kind of answer is that?”
“Apparently not a scientific one.”
He was in fine sarcastic form today. She would have complained, but something about battling with him brought her body kicking back to life. The aches faded and the fear eased. But the frustration? Yeah, that hit her full force.
“You wouldn’t entertain the idea of dating, but you’re saying you intended to go through with it.” She didn’t ask it as a question because the suggestion was ridiculous. Not after the way he’d brushed off her questions and concerns.
A guy like him did not meet a woman, fall for her in a few days, and change his whole life. That was like a plot from a bad Hollywood rom-com. Real people didn’t act like that. They were rational and used common sense. Tempered
their attraction with a heavy dose of reality.
His body relaxed into hers. “Through with ‘it’?”
She ignored how good he felt and concentrated on the question. There was no way he didn’t understand her point. “The marriage, you dumbass.”
“How could I not want to, what with you being so charming and all.”
Their voices had grown louder and she struggled to return to a whisper. “We had great sex.”
For her it was so much more than that, but the comment seemed strangely safe. Their attraction sparked and consumed. They may have sucked at talking, and she needed work on how to get through to a stubborn male before giving up, but she could not deny the power of his kiss. Of all of him.
“Finally, we agree on something.” He lowered his hands until they lay on the ground on either side of her head.
One shift and he’d be touching her. Like so many times before, he could frame her head in his hands. Lean in. That would all be bad. Very bad. But the memories lingered and she could not blink the visions away.
“The attraction between us was . . .” Her mind blanked on an appropriate word. They all sounded too big in her head, and since she was trying to calm things down, big might not be the right answer here. “Strong.”
“Could you find a more lame word?”
She’d actually tried and failed, so no. “You describe it.”
“On fire.”
Heat sparked in his eyes. She suddenly became very aware that he had her pinned to the ground with his body over hers. He no longer crushed her in an attempt to play the role of human shield, but his weight did rest against her. She could feel him. All of him. Every muscle and one very obvious bulge that wasn’t there a few seconds ago.
She cleared her throat as she tried to think of a dignified way of squirming out from under him. Not that she was afraid or didn’t want to touch him. She needed out because she did want to touch him. All over.
The need snuck up on her. Kicked to life and wouldn’t fade.
Under the Wire: Bad Boys Undercover Page 12