by S A Gardner
For long minutes I stood there, paralyzed by the harsh and irrefutable logic and efficiency of his actions and decisions.
When I could talk again, there was only one question left. “But why didn’t you enlist us in the preemptive strikes? We could have covered more bases, protected more targets. This was your intention before you left.”
“My intention was to strike while the danger was just a possibility, but by the time I knew about the liquidation plans it was a definite schedule. Can you imagine what kind of stress this would have put on your team? The ones targeted? Can you vouch for what they would have done? You were right when you refused to go along with my plans. Your team is good, but this was pure black ops territory.” I snorted. He pressed on. “But time changed one thing most. The enemy wasn’t in the dark any more. All they needed was one wrong move, one new clue and they would have put everything together. I couldn’t risk you.”
My heart hit the base of my brain. “All of us, or just me?”
He turned his eyes away.
He didn’t deem this worth answering, huh?
My heart was almost knocking me off my feet with each beat now. “It’s just that you said you were leaving me for good, for real, that I was on my own. You were very convincing. Very.”
He shook his head as he started lathering himself. “You know, Calista, I can’t tell if our problem is that I’ll never tell the truth—the truth according to your specifications—or that you’ll never learn. If after all these years, you can still think me capable of leaving you, or leaving you to your fate, then the problem is bigger on your side.”
It took me all of two seconds then I was in there with him in the cubicle, all over him, devouring and clutching and fusing, my tears rivaling the shower jets in volume and speed.
He didn’t miss a beat, his hands segueing from lathering his body to lathering mine, his eyes heavy and full. So was everything in me, my breasts, my loins, my heart.
Then, as if he had no more control, he raised me, locked my slippery limbs around him, sank into my kiss, into my body.
This time our lovemaking was long, long and gentle, profound, and all the more shattering for it.
And I knew, without him telling me.
He hadn’t been with Suz. Or anyone else.
He would never be.
I might not be certain of much where he was concerned, but I was certain of this. He wouldn’t, even couldn’t, look anywhere else for intimacy, no matter what I cost him of pain and heartache. He was incapable of it as much as I was. Emotionally, sexually, it seemed we were each other’s lot in life, come what may.
I didn’t know how long it was that we stood beneath the endless, perfect-temperature jet, glutted with satisfaction. On my part, I felt gloriously sore, my every inch plundered and fulfilled.
Lord, but that man made me happy to have been born female.
He suddenly rumbled in my neck, “I take it you’ve accepted my demeaning proposition?”
I reached up and nipped his bearded jaw. “To act as my six-foot-five, two-hundred-pounds plus vibrator?”
His answer was to haul me up and out to the bedroom and throw me down on the hard mattress dripping wet. Then he came over me, his weight and feel sublime pleasure. I moaned in contentment.
“Bet a vibrator can’t do any of that,” he taunted.
“Bet it can’t up and leave, either.” The jibe started lighthearted, ended forlorn. I was still hurting. Bad. “Were you punishing me when you left, Damian?”
His pupils dilated, like a black hole consuming the sun, before he lowered his gaze. “I was punishing me. I’d just done the unforgivable, the most stupid thing a man can do. I gave you an impossible choice, and you made the right one and it wasn’t me. Dios, that hurt. I always choose you, no matter what.”
Like he chose me over Mel and his men. Over himself, and right and wrong and even sanity. Over and over.
“You have no idea how hard it was to walk away. I finally had my chance to be with you, to be a part of your daily life, to practice my Keep Calista Safe obsession to my heart’s content, and I gave it up. But I did think it was what you really wanted, even needed, deep down. I thought that I was setting you free.”
“And when you knew I was looking for you? Why did you think I was? If it was such a profound relief to be rid of you?”
“You’re not known to make many rational decisions, amor. I thought it was another of your rash, self-destructive moves.”
“Gee. You have such a high opinion of me.”
He nodded. “The highest. I revere you as I would a storm that sows destruction while blowing shipwrecked victims to shore and bringing rain and salvation to a dying people.”
A lump of hot coals stuck in my throat. God—could this man talk! When he decided to. I’d never heard something so—so potent. And for it to be in reference to me!
“And like a storm, you can’t be harnessed, or predicted.”
“Look who’s talking!”
“I’m not a storm, amor. I’m too methodical and consistent.”
I snorted. It was a very good snort.
He wrapped my hip-length hair over and over his forearm, studied it in fascination. I wondered if he’d let his hair grow as long.
God, the images!
He sighed. “Why do you think I never let anyone in all the way? I’d lose my edge if you figure out my method.”
“If you have a method, Damian, it’s so convoluted, nobody can ever understand it, even if you do tell them about it.”
He gave me a wolfish smile. “Probably. Sí. Being methodical enough can simulate randomness very well. And it gets the dependable results randomness can never garner.”
“Are you saying I’m random and ineffective?”
“I’d be brain-dead if I thought you ineffective. And though you are a storm, you’ve been learning some serious weather control tricks. That trick you pulled on PACT’s rogues was masterful. It also gave me time to save two of their hits.”
“Is there anything you don’t know?”
“I don’t know a lot. And it’s all mostly about you.”
“Me? I’m an open book!”
He spread me on my back and let his gaze leisurely slurp me up, savor my every inch, the power of his appreciation making me feel all-powerful.
“Which part of storm don’t you understand? Madre de Dios, I can’t imagine how powerful you’ll be when you have all your powers under control.”
I choked up all over again. “I’m ahead of you here. I don’t have to imagine anything where you’re concerned. You’re a force of nature that’s got everything under control already.”
He dropped a suckle on my sore and damn happy about it nipple. “And what force of nature am I?”
“Every last one, according to the situation, and every one invoked at will. Has to be part of your method. But rest assured, your predictability will forever remain unpredictable.”
“You’d be wrong there. I have a very predictable weakness.”
Me.
Unease clenched its fist around my heart. I didn’t want to be his weakness. Yet, other areas in me eased. All the way. He loved me. With all his force of nature being, he loved me. It was enough.
It was everything.
I dove into him, clung. “Good thing I’m dead, then, huh?”
He gathered me right back, contained me. “It does take some of the pressure off. Being dead myself is another relief.”
Our gazes meshed. Then I shattered the profound moment, blurted out, “What were you doing buying lingerie? That was punishment. I refuse to believe otherwise.”
“Actually, I wasn’t. I followed Lucia when she went out shopping, waited for her to recognize me through the hair and beard. I left it up to her to tell you. I left it up to you to decide if you wanted to see me.”
“If? Argh…” Then the rest of his words hit bottom. “You weren’t buying lingerie? She made it up? She thought I need more incentive to tear my way ove
r here? I’m so going to kill her!”
“I didn’t say she made it up.”
I erupted in his arms. “Then what the hell are you saying?”
“I wasn’t there to buy lingerie. But I had to be doing something when Lucia saw me. And once I was inside—misericordia del Dios! I just had to buy a couple of those flimsy creations. One the silver bronze of your hair, the other the blue-black of your eyes. I can’t wait until you’re in them and I’m taking you out of them.”
He bought them for me. God—for me!
I sank back in his containment, drowning in relief and smugness. “So you knew I’d come and we’d end up making love!”
“A man lives in hope…in fantasy.”
“Really? So what about your reception? My computer greets me with far more emotion!”
“Maldita sea, mujer—what? I can’t want you to do some of the running after all the running I did? I can’t want you to give me proof that you want me? To insist on finding out if you do for all the right reasons? I can’t want to see you squirming for five minutes? What do you think I am? Saint Damian for real? But as usual, my projections of your reaction went way wide.”
Elation kept building inside me, in a parallel line with aggravation. “And after we made love, for the first—er—three or four times, you still showed me the door.”
“Because it still felt like it was all you wanted.”
“And after I told you, again, that I love you, and how I do exactly and you said it was best to keep it down to pure sex?”
“Even forces of nature suffer insecurity, amor.”
“You were insecure about me?”
“Weren’t you, about me?”
Put that way, yeah. I could dig. Big time.
“I admit I was being a bastard, but the more reassurances you gave me the more I needed. After all theses years of never knowing where I stand with you, I decided to get them.”
“So you prodded and tormented me. Are you satisfied with my reassurances now? Did you hear what you wanted to hear?”
“Heard it, felt it, saw it, tasted it, drowned body and soul in it.”
I swooned as each dark, deliberate vocal caress hit my sanity centers. He squeezed me closer to him and we fell silent.
I was drifting to sleep when he started telling me how he’d found his team, that they were all staying with him here, another of his mother’s places. I sleepily commented yet again on how fitting for his mother to be a diva beloved by the world’s most dangerous scum. Most of which he’d liquidated and she’d inherited. She surely put their money to good use.
Then we had to talk business. I’d already consumed four hours of the week’s ceasefire we had.
He listened as I gave him all the details. Then he got up, disappeared for a couple of minutes, returned with my clothes, then went to a huge walk-in closet and started dressing himself.
“What’s on your mind? What do you think of my proposed plans to deal with the enemy?”
He turned to me, all his previous masks, blank, passionate, nonchalant, loving, ferocious, cherishing, were gone. All replaced by one I’d never seen before.
Coldblooded.
“The basic premise seems solid,” he said. “We’ll need to work out many specifics. But there’s only one way to start this war. Stem the leak. Ed.”
Nine
“Ed is a goner.”
I winced at Matt’s meant-for-my-ears-only statement.
So he’d seen it in Damian’s eyes, too. That Ed wasn’t going to survive his former leader’s hunt.
Back at Damian’s place, after he’d declared Ed’s death sentence, I’d argued that capturing Ed would stem the leak as effectively as killing him would, and we’d have him alive to give us full details about our enemies.
Damian had waved my arguments away. He didn’t need Ed’s intel. And this wasn’t up for debate. Taking out Ed had been on his agenda all along. I’d staved it off when I’d obtained that moronic promise not to do it. The only reason he hadn’t terminated him during the current crisis was sheer prioritizing. It was now time to take care of him.
So I’d tried another angle. I’d insisted we needed him alive to know what secrets he’d sold our enemies, what he still kept to bargain with. We needed this info to make the enemies’ knowledge of us obsolete, to guard against any future attacks.
That had given him pause. Just as I thought I’d gained Ed a stay of execution, Damian had added it was time Ed spilled his guts. I knew gut-spilling would be more than proverbial.
And I had to find a way to stop it. Whatever Ed’s crimes, I couldn’t let Damian kill him. Ed had once been his best friend. I couldn’t let him live with his blood on his hands.
“It’s good to see you back in top shape, Matt.”
Damian’s warm comment tugged my focus back to our current situation. He’d come back with me to the Sanctuary to talk plans. His relief and pleasure at seeing my team back on their feet, especially Ayesha and Matt, was unmistakable.
Suz had tagged along, hadn’t been able to tear her eyes off Matt since she’d walked in. With that taste in men, it was a miracle she’d managed to keep her eyes off
Damian. Now all that remained was for Matt to look back.
And God knew, there was plenty for him to look at, in every way. I was holding my breath that he would, to stop being an eternal widower.
“I’m not in top shape yet, Damian, but I’m getting there. Thanks to all of you.” Matt included Suz in his gesture. And was that a spark of personalized appreciation in the depths of his eyes? Suz’s flush seemed to think so.
Yes.
We entered our conference room where both my core and Colombian team were gathered. For the next hour Damian told us all he’d done, all he knew. Then he wrapped up. “So I’ll secure Ed…” Yeah, sure. Secure him a fast ticket to hell. After he’d spilled his guts, in every way, of course. “Then I’ll be back to discuss your plans. The strikes I’d drawn up are obsolete now you changed the game by obtaining this week’s ceasefire.”
“I have a better idea.” All eyes turned to me. Damian’s eyebrows rose. In genuine interest. He really had no ego problems, had an open mind. His woman having better ideas doing his job didn’t ruffle him in the least. He only wanted to find out if it was better for real. I knew he’d admit it if it was better, adopt it. No wonder I loved him.
Now this idea had better be as good as I’d just advertised.
“Why hunt Ed if we can make him come, run, to us? All we have to do is take Anna.”
Silence crashed on the room. Then troubled glances trickled around. Though Anna used to be one of Damian’s invincible warriors, she was now sick and pregnant.
Everyone had felt a great affinity with her, now felt bad for her, protective of her. She was the reason those who felt a degree of sympathy for Ed’s actions did so. I was interested in one opinion. Damian’s.
His opinion flared in his eyes. Definite interest. And anxiety surpassing anyone else’s. “I don’t think Anna is strong enough to be involved in this.”
I pinched him. “As if I’d endanger her!” He rubbed at the sting, his eyes conceding, asking me to elaborate.
“We’ll confiscate all Anna needs. And you can bet your life she’ll get better medical care here than in some medical research facility where she’s just another guinea pig.”
His eyes became—smitten, for lack of a better word.
Tingles marched up my spine. “Perdonome, amor, of course she would be better off here. I wanted her out of the clutches of anyone affiliated with our enemy all along. But since I knew I couldn’t take care of her afterwards without you, I couldn’t take the decision for you.”
Ayesha gave him a reprimanding glare. It didn’t come off convincing enough. No wonder. The woman was the founder of The Damian De Luna Can Do No Wrong fan club. “If you had the least worry about her wellbeing there, Damian, you should have told us. We do all we can everyday for strangers and we wouldn’t for a comrade-in-arms
and a friend?”
Damian grinned. I did a double then a triple take.
How did he do that? Project this boyishness? And he claimed to be predictable! “Mis disculpas, Ayesha. I did know you’d want to help but I knew you weren’t up to it then. If you are now, and it seems you are, we’ll plan her retrieval at once.”
“This will have to be watertight.” That was Rafael, speaking up for the first time. “The research center where her clinical trials are being conducted isn’t only top-secret but top-security.”
The change in Damian’s expression was astounding as he turned his attention to him. Don’t tell me he was still jealous of him? “I thought nothing was top-secret to you, Rafael.”
“It isn’t. I even have the floorplans.”
I shook my head. “That’s great, but we’ll need more than schematics if we’re to enter the place and walk out with Anna.”
“We’ll need the schedules of all who go in an out of the facility to the last second for a stealth maneuver,” Suz said.
I shook my head again, and Matt gave me a considering look. “So you don’t think it’s possible to go in undetected. This leaves out going in as if we’re invited. Any idea how?”
“Not a one. And then appearing invited will be the far easier problem. The hardest part will be taking Anna and everything she needs for her continued treatments without her seeming targeted, or the enemy will suspect our involvement and everything will come tumbling down.”
Damian spoke up then, his eyes still on Rafael. “I have everything on everyone who enters the facility. And I have their movements within the premises detailed in spreadsheets.”
Rafael returned his gaze in total serenity. “We’ve already agreed knowing schedules won’t be enough to get us into the place, not in the way we need to.”