Danger and Desire: Ten Full-Length Steamy Romantic Suspense Novels

by Pamela Clare

  She laughed softly and waved his offer away with a graceful flick of one hand. “No. Sorry, I can’t help being nosy. It’s in my nature.”

  Well, it was his nature to make people laugh and he loved the sound of hers. He wanted to hear it more often. “That’s probably what makes you so good at your job. Your penchant for wanting to investigate.”

  “You mean my obsession? Yeah, probably. I’ve noticed you’re pretty good with details yourself.”

  He just smiled and kept his eyes on the road. “I’d better be.”

  “You were a Recon Marine, right?”

  He nodded. “For six years.”

  He had her full attention now. He could see her watching him curiously out of the corner of his eye. “Do you miss it?”

  “Sometimes.” He shrugged. Sure as hell didn’t miss the conditions and lack of equipment they always seemed to suffer out in the field. “Mostly I just miss the guys.”

  “Why’d you get out?”

  “It was time.” Not wanting to talk about that anymore, he shifted the conversation to her. “What about you? You graduated from MIT, right?”

  “I did.”

  “With honors.”

  “Also true,” she said with a little smile. “Though I’ll admit, I didn’t realize the Marine Corps taught people such good computer skills. Might’ve rethought my decision and enlisted instead, if I’d known.”

  “Oh, you’d be surprised what skills I picked up during my time there.”

  “No, I don’t think I would, actually.” Still smiling, she folded her arms beneath her breasts, which of course made him steal another look there. She was trim and toned, but still soft in all the right places. And despite the conservative way she always dressed, she exuded an innate sensuality that tantalized him. It was damned distracting, considering they had to work together so closely. He’d been fantasizing about her since the first day they’d met.

  He’d love to stop at the next light to lean across the console, watch those incredible eyes go wide as he bent and inhaled the fragrance of her skin just below her ear. His fingers itched to stroke across her smooth cheek and down her throat to her bare shoulder, slip beneath the neckline of that dress and find out what she was wearing beneath it. Because he’d bet every cent he owned that her bra was silky soft and just as sexy as she was.

  Jerking his gaze back to the road, he tamped down his impatience at having to curb the impulse. If he rushed this she’d bolt. That was the last thing he wanted, and he wanted more than the one night stands he’d become so bored with. With Zahra he’d like the chance to get to know her on a personal level, see if things developed naturally from there. “Hunter said you stayed late at work last night,” he heard himself say. “Anything interesting turn up?”

  Rather than answer right away, she shifted in her seat and pointedly avoided his gaze.

  He looked back at her. He could read changing conditions on a battlefield in an instant, know exactly where and how to hit a target, but he could also read people just as well. She knew something and didn’t want to tell him. “What? What did you find?”

  She nibbled her plump lower lip for a second before responding. “I’m not really sure if it’s anything. I called Alex last night to talk to him about it. He said he’d look into it further and let us know after the service today if he thinks it’s worth all of us following up with.”

  Bullshit. She was damn good at her job and a hard worker. If she’d found something she thought was important enough to work half the night on and report her findings to Alex, then it was something they all needed to look at. “Zahra, what did you find?” he prompted, his body tensing slightly.

  Her foot tapped on the floor mat. “I was translating some more of that chatter you and I found yesterday.”

  “From the satellite feed?”

  She nodded, met his eyes at last. The serious expression on her face put him on instant alert. “Remember the lead we’ve been following from the chat room? Abdullo?”

  “I remember.” The guy was suspected to have ties with a militant network in Tajikistan, as well as being linked to the TTP. “What about him?”

  “I was translating his phone transmissions. He’s been very clever so far, only using the same phone a couple of times, but the voice recognition software matched him to this other conversation and I started listening in. It was to someone in Baltimore.”

  Sean processed all that in silence. “And?”

  “It was a short conversation made a few days ago, and I wouldn’t have paid much attention to it except that the man he called spoke in English rather than Urdu, and the entire conversation was cryptic. I think so he wouldn’t raise suspicion if anyone else overheard. Abdullo said something about needing this guy’s ‘trusted services’ and said there was an envelope waiting for him with all the necessary information. He was to call Abdullo back with his decision about taking the job.”

  Sounded like a terrorist cell activating a sleeper cell here in the States. “Did you trace this guy in Baltimore?”

  “I looked him up, but couldn’t find anything else that might link him to a terror network. He’s not on any of the watch lists as far as I could tell and if he called Abdullo back I can’t find a record of it, so maybe he used a different phone. And I couldn’t find any record of Abdullo’s incoming calls after. That’s why I stayed so late—I thought I was close to finding all the pieces but I never did.”

  All his instincts were screaming that this bastard was planning some kind of attack in the area, and soon. Was it Claire? Hunter and the rest of the team had to know what was going on, and to hell with waiting on Alex and whoever else at the NSA was working this thing. He pulled his cell out of his pocket and hit a number before holding it out to her. “It’s Hunt. Tell him everything, right now.”

  Zahra took it without arguing and relayed the information when Hunt picked up. Sean took a deep breath and drove to the funeral home, knowing that by the time they got there, Zahra’s boss and half the NSA’s counter-terrorist people would already be working on this. And he also knew that as soon as the funeral was over, the entire team would be pulling an all-nighter except for Claire and maybe Gage. And if Sean was in his place, he wouldn’t let Claire out of his sight for a single second until they figured out if this bastard was the threat they’d been trying to neutralize.

  *

  By nine o’clock that night, Gage could tell Claire was done with pretty much everything. She was done with everything surrounding Danny’s funeral, finished with her relatives, and hell, definitely finished with people in general. No surprise to him, because it had been a long, emotionally exhausting day for her.

  The service had gone well enough, though there’d been way more people there than Claire and her father had wanted, thanks to her mother calling up all kinds of acquaintances after she and her husband had gone back to her hotel last night. That inconsiderate move had only caused Claire more stress as she’d been forced to run around buying more groceries this morning and then had spent all her time prior to the service prepping the food. Gage had helped out as much as he could, cleaning, chopping and assembling the stupid crustless tea sandwiches Claire’s mother had insisted on. Didn’t matter that the woman had come over to help, Gage was still pissed at her for putting more stress on Claire.

  At the funeral Claire had insisted he sit with her in the front pew, with him and her father flanking her and Mel directly behind her. Claire had looked around at all the additional “mourners” and he’d seen the fury and disgust burning in her eyes. Where the hell were they during the past two years? she’d demanded in an angry whisper, her body vibrating with tension. If they didn’t care about Danny enough to be there for him when he was alive, then they have no right to be here now to stare at his urn.

  He couldn’t agree more. Unable to do anything to make it any easier on her, he’d sat with his arm around her while the minister had presided over the service and read the eulogy Claire had written for Danny, offering
what comfort he could. She’d stayed quiet and strong throughout the service. Too strong. He knew how much she was hurting even if no one else could. The last thing he wanted was to see her break under the strain of it all. And now a lot of those same people who had filled the little chapel had come back to her place for the reception that had started well over four hours ago. With one look at her drawn face now, he knew she wanted everyone to take the hint and get the hell out. Trouble was, she was too polite a hostess to ever say it.

  “Okay people, feel free to leave any time,” Mel murmured as she stepped up beside him, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She’d been a godsend all day, doing whatever needed to be done without complaint. Of all Claire’s friends, Mel was his favorite. “When do you think they’ll take the hint and get out?” she whispered to him.

  “When all the free food and booze is gone,” Gage muttered darkly.

  “I already shoved the last few platters into the back of the fridge so no one sees them, and I put away all the bottles that were on the counter. Want me to light something on fire to set off the smoke alarm?”

  His lips quirked. “Might come to that. I’ll give you the signal.”

  Mel sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. Gage lifted his arm and draped it across her shoulders. “I’m really glad you’re here,” she told him quietly. “I sleep better knowing she’s got you to look after her.”

  He’d do a hell of a lot more than look after her if she’d let him. “Thanks.”

  She tilted her head back to look at him. “It’s good to have you back. I’ve missed you, you know.”

  “Missed you too, sweet pea.” Too bad he wouldn’t be around for very long. And probably less than that if Claire had her way. He was still sure he’d averted disaster last night by turning her down, even if he’d wanted her so much his hands had been shaking.

  Mel blushed like she always did when he called her that, but he knew she liked it. Together they stood in the doorway and watched in silence as Claire played hostess. After a full minute, Mel eased away. “I can’t take this anymore. I’ll be in the kitchen, watching for the signal. Make sure it’s noticeable.”

  “All right. Stand by.”

  Claire needed peace and quiet after everything she’d gone through today. He’d felt the same way every time he’d attended a buddy’s funeral, and she’d just come from saying goodbye to her only sibling, the man she’d looked up to for most of her life.

  He leaned against the kitchen wall, watching her move around the living room filling up glasses, handing out food, and generally worrying about shit she shouldn’t have to. He had to keep reminding himself of the new foreign boundaries imposed upon him by their estrangement. Had it been six months ago he knew exactly how he would have handled things. Now he was forced to stand back and watch her drive herself into the ground right in front of him.

  Another half hour passed and only one or two people trickled out. Claire was more than courteous to the few guests still hanging around, but he could read her better than anyone and so he knew she was hanging on to the last of her composure by a rapidly fraying thread. Her smile was forced, almost brittle, her movements short and jerky. The irritation in her eyes had long since turned to flat out annoyance and he knew it was only a matter of time before she exploded.

  To save her from that embarrassment and not wanting Mel to actually set fire to anything, he decided to ignore the unspoken rules and take care of the situation himself.

  Pushing away from the wall, he stepped into the center of the room and used his NCO voice, honed to perfection by more than seventeen years of service. “Thank you all for coming out to support Claire and her family today. We appreciate everyone being here, but it’s been a long day and if ya’ll don’t mind we’d like to wrap this up now.”

  A shocked silence met his words, followed by an awkward hush. Claire’s head snapped around, her eyes wide with incredulity before she narrowed them at him. He stared right back unapologetically and mentally raised a defiant eyebrow at her. She didn’t like his methods? Too fucking bad. His only concern right now was her and he didn’t give a shit what anyone else thought.

  The guests all looked at him in surprise, including Claire’s parents. Mel walked past him and started clearing up, and that seemed to make it official. After a heartbeat of awkward hesitation, everyone stood up and got moving. Some carried their cups and plates into the kitchen. Others went to Claire and her parents with a murmur of condolence and left, sliding him a sidelong glance as they walked out the door.

  He hurried them along with a glacial look and a tight-lipped smile that barely passed for civil. It didn’t take long for them to all clear out, five minutes tops. When only Mel, Claire’s parents and stepfather remained, Wayne came up to Gage and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

  “Sure glad to have you here with us today. And thanks for kicking everyone out. I wanted to in the worst way.” He nodded toward Claire, who was in the kitchen with her mother and stepfather and Mel, cleaning up. “I think in a lot of ways this whole thing is hardest on her. She needs some time alone.”

  Gage nodded, not bothering to disagree. Although being alone wasn’t going to be an option for her tonight, and not for the next few nights at least if he had anything to say about it. “Do you need a ride home?”

  Wayne gave a sad, weary smile that reminded Gage too much of Danny, but at least he wasn’t drunk. He broke eye contact before answering. “I only had three beers, I’m good.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, cleared his throat as he looked around Claire’s living room and shook his head. “Helluva thing, isn’t it? I always thought I’d be the one to eat a bullet instead of Danny.”

  Not what Gage wanted to hear. He waited for the older man to look at him again and pinned Wayne’s gaze with his own. “You’re stronger than he was. And you wouldn’t do that to Claire.” A not-so-subtle reminder that he better not think of doing any such thing.

  The older man’s chin came up, and in his eyes Gage saw a spark of the former SF operator. Strong, determined. “No. Figure I’ve done enough damage to her already.” With that comment he patted Gage’s shoulder again and headed for the kitchen.

  Gage followed and took the dishtowel from Claire’s mother, being as polite as he could under the circumstances, and exchanged a knowing look with Mel, who nodded. He wanted them all out, now, so Claire could decompress without an audience. “I’ve got this. Y’all go on back to your hotel, try to get some sleep.”

  She gave him a small smile. “Thanks.” Her eyes looked bruised underneath, heavy with the shadows of grief. “Shall we?” she said to her husband. After hugging Claire goodbye, they left. Claire’s father followed them a moment later.

  Claire hugged Mel, shut the door behind everyone and took a deep breath, her back to him. Gage had already braced himself for her reaction once they were alone and he didn’t have to wait long.

  Pushing away from the door, she whirled around to nail him with an angry glare. “What the hell was that, ordering everyone out of my house?”

  “You were thinking it. I just put it into action.”

  Shaking her head, she stormed past him to snatch the last few plates and cutlery from the coffee table in the living room then stomped into the kitchen to set them on the counter with a thud. “It was rude.”

  He followed, careful not to crowd her. “No, they were for not noticing they’d overstayed their welcome.”

  Her caramel-colored hair rippled down her back as she shook her head in irritation. “My house, Gage, my guests. My decision.”

  He walked up behind her to help clear the counter of the dishes Mel had washed and she began wiping a damp cloth over it with sharp, angry movements. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes sparking with temper. He was glad to see the fire in her again, but knew she probably wasn’t even aware of what was causing it. His kicking everyone out might have annoyed her, but she was angry about Danny’s death and looking to take it out on someone.

  He could fee
l the anger seething inside her, almost feel it pulsing from her in waves as she did her best to repress it. Gage didn’t mind taking the brunt of the explosion if it gave her the chance to vent some of the confusion and grief.

  When he didn’t respond to her statement she stopped to glare at him over her shoulder. “You gonna answer me?”

  “What do you want me to say?” He calmly began loading the dishwasher.

  Claire stared at him, her mouth falling open. “How about you’re sorry, for starters.”

  “Nope. Cuz I’m not.”

  That seemed to stun her into silence for a moment. She recovered fast, throwing the cloth down with a fleshy plop to fold her arms across her chest, over her rapidly rising and falling breasts. Her breathing was erratic, her eyes spitting sparks. “Well you should be, because you’re acting like an asshole! You come in here and just take over everything without even asking me what I want.”

  “Okay, what do you want?”

  Her chin came up, eyes flashing with a tumult of emotions he couldn’t even begin to decipher but was pretty sure he could guess at. “I want you to leave.”

  “No you don’t.”

  The flicker of anger in her gaze burst into a full on blaze as she rounded on him, pointing an accusatory finger at his chest. “Yes I do! And don’t tell me what I do and don’t want. Don’t. You. Dare.” Her voice cracked and she blinked fast, a sure sign she was about to lose it.

  Rather than back down, Gage shut the dishwasher door and closed the distance between them, advancing on her until he called her bluff and she took a hasty step back. Her spine hit the edge of the counter and still he kept coming, until he was toe to toe with her and she was forced to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. She swallowed, the sound overly loud in the tense silence. This close he could see the fine tremors in her muscles, hear the uneven catch in her breath.

  “Back off before I do something we’ll both regret,” she warned in a low voice.