by Mandy Harbin
He wanted nothing more than to find her right now, haul her back to bed, and have his wicked way with her until she couldn’t walk. It was Neanderthal of him to feel so possessive of the woman who turned him inside out.
And she did. Damn, but the woman had him in knots. That wasn’t a good thing either. He knew he had no business touching her. He should have subdued her last night when she’d come storming into his room and sent her back to the sanctuary of hers. But in the back of his mind, he knew if he’d found the will to do that, he’d have used the excuse of her having two beds in her room to sleep in there with her. Then he’d find his way into her bed anyway. He’d led her to believe he could sleep in there at any time to ensure her protection, but in the cold light of day, he knew if she was in that kind of danger, he wouldn’t just want to sleep in the same room with her, he’d want her on the first flight out back to safety.
Because her life was suddenly too precious to chance.
Jesus, he was toast. He hadn’t been in a relationship in years. Hadn’t had the time for it. Hell, he didn’t now. He was still in the military, didn’t know how much longer he’d be in Afghanistan. She’d only be here another week or so. How was he supposed to build a relationship with her? If they’d formed a relationship away from here before he’d been sent on this tour, maybe they could have made it work. His rotation allowed for ninety days of block leave. He could’ve wined and dined her over three months and built a strong foundation before being sent back overseas. But it hadn’t happened like that, and even if they could pick this thing building between them back up stateside, she lived in a different part of the country. All logic screamed at him that touching her had been a mistake. There was no way this could be anything more than a temporary fling, but he knew if he continued to let himself steal away with her at night as he desperately wanted and foster the intimate bond taking hold, he wouldn’t be able to sit back and watch her walk away and out of his life when she left.
The best thing to do…the smart thing to do…was to nip what was happening between them in the bud. It’d be hard to do, but the more he thought about it, the more he knew it wasn’t just best or smart, it was also the right thing to do.
“You’re flight schedule was altered yesterday. Why did you leave early?”
He could fib and tell him that Caitlin had finished interviewing the people in the area. They were in a war zone, so being out longer than necessary wasn’t wise. But Owen was too honorable to lie outright. He’d kept the news of what happened last night to himself, but if he got asked outright, he’d have to own up to what happened and take the royal ass-chewing he’d get. “Charlie walked away following a story lead as I scanned the village perimeter. She did so without informing me of her intent, nor waiting for us to clear the building she went into. She broke protocol, disobeyed orders, and I extracted her.”
Burge stared at him. If Owen wasn’t so practiced with interrogation techniques, he’d have a bead of sweat on his forehead forming under the scrutiny. But he stood there completely calm and waiting for his commander’s words.
“You lost sight of her.”
Fuck.
“Yes.”
For endless seconds, the man pinned him with his steely gaze. Then he rose slowly. “I think I didn’t make myself clear when I put you on this assignment.” He slammed his hands on his desk as he leaned closer.
Double fuck.
“Sir, my team had eyes on her the whole—”
“Except when she walked unescorted into an unsecured goddamn building!”
“Yes, Sir.” He couldn’t say anything else. It was only seconds she was unattended, but he knew in this world, it only took a split second for a sniper to drop a target or an IED to detonate or an RPG to explode out of nowhere. They were at war. Plain and simple.
“You better pull your head outta your ass, Burrell. No fucking mistakes. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Sir!”
Burge took a deep breath and sat. “How’s her assignment coming?”
Owen blinked, unsure how to answer. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “You ordered me to stay out of it. Not to discuss it. I’m protection only.”
Burge cracked a smile. “Good answer. Sit.” He indicated the chair in front of the desk. Owen didn’t hesitate, although he wasn’t sure why he’d been told to sit now after discussing everything. There wasn’t anything else to discuss. At least nothing he was going to broach on his own. “Asad Samim has been detained.”
“What?” he asked slowly. The interpreter who’d been working with Caitlin had checked out, or so Owen had thought. “Why?” he snapped.
“The timing of the MOAB drop coincided with an arms delivery. Someone sold military grade weapons to ISIS. We put a stop to it.”
“I know.” His SEAL Team had been briefed on the issue prior to scoping out the area. The airstrike had been successful. The tunnels destroyed. The parties involved eliminated. Private William Adin Richardson had been captured and sent to a CIA black site for interrogation. “The defector has been detained, and Aarif Yasin KIA.”
Burge gave him a sharp nod. “Asad Samim is his cousin.”
The air left Owen’s lung in a rush. Asad had been alone with Caitlin. If he’d wanted to kill her, he could have taken her out any number of times. His jaw clenched. If that man touched one hair on her head… “He’s a dead man.”
“If it’s all the same to you, we’d rather work him over until he spills everything,” Burge drawled with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes, Sir.” Owen fisted his hands in his lap.
“I need you to encourage Ms. Cooper to finish her report and go back home. Richardson, Samim, Yasin, none of their names need to be leaked. Inform her Samim was discharged from duty for some minor infraction. We’ll get her another interpreter. Unless the village attack is something bigger than initial appearance, you’ll be free to fly in forty hours.”
So, they wouldn’t be able to travel tomorrow. He just hoped she didn’t stay in her room all day since he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stick to his decision to keep things professional.
Because he had to. Knowing he’d let a possible ISIS connection work closely with her only shored up his resolve, creating a solid steel cage around his chest and locking the reality into place. He had to protect her. That was it. He couldn’t afford any more distractions. Nada.
Whatever happened between them was over. End of fucking story.
Owen was dismissed, and he made contact with Acker as soon as he was outside to find their location. She was currently working with Lorenzo in the meeting room Owen had reserved for her.
The thought of that man being close to her fueled more anger. Not only would he have to keep quiet as he watch the other man flirt shamelessly with her, he had to keep from beating the shit out of him for bringing Asad onto the assignment.
By the time he arrived at the building, he’d leashed his fury, so he could focus solely on Caitlin’s protection. That’s all that mattered now.
His team members snapped to attention when he walked into the room. “As you were,” he muttered, his gaze on Caitlin.
Damn, she was beautiful. That luscious pink color highlighted her cheeks and grew darker as he looked at her. In the light of day she was more breathtaking—no. He couldn’t allow his thoughts to even wander to anything about her apart from his job.
“We’re just getting ready to break, so I can change and prepare to do a live feed,” she said excitedly.
“What’s going on?”
“Lorenzo captured footage of some locals talking to men linked to the leader of ISIS and his top soldiers before they were killed.”
Owen froze, but he hid his reaction. “There were men linked to ISIS there while we were?” he asked, but he already knew that answer. The military wouldn’t have detained Asad without reason. For all he knew, Asad had used the cover to carry missives between Kabul and the villages near the border.
“Yeah, I need to freshen up b
efore I report live.” She was excited, and he had to fight the urge to smile and feel proud of her for coming across the information on her own. Of course, he’d have to stop her from learning more, but he had a day to contemplate how to handle the task before they headed back out. Guilt stabbed him. He possessed information that could skyrocket her career, but it was classified. His hands were tied.
She walked toward the door, and he followed her out, tamping down all the warring urges within. He wanted her, but he couldn’t have her. He wanted to help her, but it was his career and his freedom if he did. He was well and truly fucked no matter how he looked at it. He had to talk to her, but he wasn’t sure how he would find the words that would hurt him and her when he expressed them. The one thing he did know for sure in all this was that conversation had to take place. No matter how hard it would be, he’d have to do it anyway. The sooner the better.
When they arrived at the barracks, he told Acker to stay back and keep watch while he followed her inside. She reached her door, and he stood at the threshold as she walked in. She turned to shut the door, but he clamped his hand on it to stop her.
She grinned, her gaze darting past him before meeting his again. “I have to change. I don’t want to do it where anybody can walk in and see.” Then her smile turned sultry. “If you behave, you can watch.”
Jesus. Soon was looking like now because he wanted to nod like a fool and throw everything away. The temptation was almost unbearable. The only thing stronger than his desire for her was his resolve—for her. If it wasn’t sad, he’d laugh at how one woman could push and pull him from multiple directions like his.
Doesn’t matter. Be direct. He knew how to steel himself and deal with all kinds of shitty situations. He could do this. He would.
“I can’t stay. I just wanted to tell you what happened last night can’t happen again.”
Her smile faltered until her mouth hung open.
“It was great. You were great. It’s just not smart. I have a job to do, and I fucked up by letting my cock do the thinking. It won’t happen again.”
She still didn’t say anything and her eyes turned glassy. He cussed and turned, shutting the door behind him, needing that barrier between them to keep from pulling her into his arms and telling her to forget what he just said. That he’d been wrong.
He wasn’t wrong, though, and that was what tore him up the most.
Chapter Nine
Caitlin refused to look at Owen.
The day before yesterday, she’d come across a piece of news that had her boss salivating. She’d been eager to share it with Owen, but he’d pulled the rug out from under her, shutting her out. He’d told her what happened that night between them—and all the moments leading up to it—was a mistake. She’d been blindsided. The wind knocked out of her without physically being punched. Not that she’d had time to wrap her head around it because she’d had to walk outside and report live as if her heart wasn’t breaking.
Because it was.
She’d almost cried right there as she stared at him. Tears of shock had stung her eyes, demanding to form and fall. She’d been grateful he’d left when he did. She was already embarrassed enough without suffering even more humiliation of traitor tears because she’d been dealing with another devastating revelation. She’d fallen in love with a man who didn’t want her—a realization that slammed into her as he crushed her delicate heart.
She didn’t know how she could fall in love as fast as she did. She’d heard of people meeting and marrying from whirlwind romances, but she’d assumed those people had been blinded with lust on their road to love. It had just seemed implausible to her. Now, she knew the all consuming truth. It wasn’t only a possibility, it was her reality. If she hadn’t met Owen, she’d still believe falling in love so quickly was impossible. She knew with painful clarity now that she’d been so terribly, utterly wrong. There was zero doubt in her mind and her heart how she felt. But she also understood that, unlike those blindly fast courtships, there would be no happily ever after for them.
Since crushing her world, Owen had been emotionally distant, but he’d hovered around as if he was ready to take a bullet for her. She knew he was doing his job, but the conflicting emotions rolling off him infuriated her. He seemed to master being right there without being there at all. He talked to her only when he had to, and even then it was all business. He hadn’t touched her since that night, either. Not a hand on her elbow to guide her somewhere, nothing.
Yesterday, she hadn’t been able to face him, so she’d stayed in her room as much as possible, doing some research online in preparation for their excursion today. Alec had brought her meals, and she’d been relieved—and hurt. By that evening, she couldn’t avoid leaving the hallow protection of her room. If she didn’t walk down the short hall to shower, she would’ve had to do a sponge bath in her sink. She was pitiful enough to admit to herself today that she’d seriously considered that as an option last night. The shower had won, hoping it would help her feel even marginally better. As she’d gathered her toiletries and big girl panties, the sight of Owen’s note and pen taunted her from beside her bag. Without hesitation, she’d ripped the paper into shreds before grabbing her toiletry bag and PJs.
Then she’d picked up the pen and looked at it. She didn’t think it’d destroy easily, though the thought had occurred to her to have it meet the same fate as the paper he’d used with it. But she was hurt, not crazy. She couldn’t break something that didn’t belong to her, but neither could she keep it around. It was his, and she couldn’t stand to have anything of that man across the hall near her right now. When she’d walked out of her room, his door had been open, and Owen spied her from his perch on his bed, the one they’d shared. The last time she’d gone in there with that pen, she’d been furious and had hurled at it him, hoping to cause harm. What had transpired had hurt her more in the end than any damage she could have done to him.
So last night, she’d wordlessly stepped into his room and tossed it gently, with perfect aim on the bed by his feet. Her gazed had stayed locked on his until it bounced by his boot, and then she’d retreated to the shower. A large part of her hoped he’d follow her in there—a part she’d wanted to smack.
He never did. The man didn’t want her, and he was keeping his distance.
Even this morning, when they’d boarded the helicopter, he hadn’t helped her strap in, though he’d stood in front of her staring down, watching as she secured the harness. She mentally jumped between wanting to demand answers from him, force him to deny what had formed between them, and wanting to catch the first flight out of this country, never having to feel his gaze on her again.
Yeah, the last couple of days had been torture. And now, she focused on work because it dulled the ache.
She was in the middle of an interview with the sixth villager who’d agreed to speak to her in yet another part of the Achin District. No new information had developed since they’d been farther east a couple of days ago, and this new interpreter hadn’t been as relaxed as Asad had been. When Owen told her flatly that Asad had been removed from duty without any other explanation, she hadn’t thought much about it.
Not Lorenzo. He’d demanded answers, reiterating that he’d worked with Asad for years, but Owen shut his questions down, ushering them to the helicopter to load up and head out. Ever since they landed, Lorenzo had been a bear with a sore paw, snapping at her about the camera angles and the questions she’d been asking the locals.
“Ask him if he knows anything about the alleged member of the Shinwari tribe recruited by ISIS,” she asked Karzai, the interpreter who’d replaced Asad.
He asked the young man who quickly answered. “Yes. His name was Aarif Yasin. He was killed when the bomb dropped.”
She blinked, his answer rolling around in her head. “Wait a minute. Are you telling me the US dropped a bomb targeting tunnels and just so happened to take out a man who’d been buying weapons from the military?”
&nb
sp; Karzai asked her question, but she didn’t need to hear the confirmation. She glanced at Lorenzo who had a blank look in his eyes. The camera he held drooped slightly as he stared at Karzai, waiting for the translation.
“Yes. The American known to them only as War had been scheduled to meet with Aarif Yasin the day of the airstrike.”
Lorenzo cussed, dropping his camera completely. Caitlin’s gaze whipped to the side, but the man was walking away. “Hey,” she called after him. Where the hell was he going? This could be a huge story. What if the military had dropped the MOAB to take out one man specifically? Who was he? And who was the War man? Had he been taken out, too, or maybe even the target? Her mind was racing through all these questions, her journalistic instincts screaming there was something here. Had the military learned one of their own was trafficking arms and tried to cover this up? Running guns was bad enough, but if a ranked officer was behind it, that was crimes-against-Country serious and could potentially implicate a lot of people. This story could be huge.
This could be the story of her career.
“Lorenzo!” But he was beating feet.
Owen had been standing across the small street off camera but jogged the few paces in her direction when she’d yelled after her retreating cameraman. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t—”
Several loud cracks sounded, startling her. She didn’t have time to register what it was because Owen grabbed her and tossed her down behind a half-wall lining the small road. The noise continued, followed by a loud explosion. Oh God, the cracks…gunfire. It was gunfire. Following by the explosion, and more shots. Endless cracks rent the air. The village was under attack, and they were right in the middle of it! She screamed, grabbing her ears and ducking, acting on self-preservation instinct, but Owen covered her. He blanketed her so completely that she vaguely realized it was the first physical contact they’d had since—why was she even thinking about that? Had to be the fear enveloping her, knocking her senseless. All of her thoughts were scattered, as chaotic as the scene around them.