Code Name: Ghost

by Natasza Waters

  “What’s her name?”

  “Kayla Banks.”

  “Middle name?”

  “Katarina.” If he hadn’t reviewed her file yesterday, he wouldn’t have known. How could he not know her middle name? “She works at the base for me, but she’s Canadian.”

  “I’ll call it in, and see if we can get our next door neighbors to the north to give us information.”

  He couldn’t help Kayla unless he knew the whole story or at least part of it. Who was Daniel? She’d never mentioned anyone by that name. The cop wandered back to the sidewalk as Thane kept an eye on her. The gusts of wind lifted her hair, but she remained motionless for minutes. At least she’d stopped shaking. This was his fault. Why hadn’t he listened to Fox, to his men?

  “Commander Austen.” The cop motioned for him to join him. Each step took more effort than the next. He stopped within six feet of the cop, his body bristling.

  Before the cop opened his mouth, Kayla’s voice ghosted through the air. “Don’t tell him.” Both he and the cop watched Kayla stagger to her feet.

  He didn’t know whether he was angry or relieved.

  “Ma’am, do you need help?”

  She shook her head, and swept her hands through her hair looking shell-shocked. One second of opportunity was all he had. “Who and how bad?” he said quietly, glaring at the cop leaving no room for indecision.

  The cop glanced over Thane’s shoulder, and answered in a low voice, “Her husband, attempted murder. Ten years ago—today.”

  Husband? Murder? Holy fuck.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  He’d felt plenty of earthquakes living in California, but the revelation turned the ground to liquid beneath his feet, and it wanted to swallow him up. His mind blanked, too much information crashing together at the same time. They say knowing a little can be far worse than knowing everything. Okay, get it together, SEAL. Kayla appeared in front of him.

  “I’ll take my leave. Transfer me in the meantime. Keep your SEALs away from me.”

  She made a stumbling turn and ran. For a split second he thought about letting her go, but only for a split second. He caught her in the middle of the lawn, snagging her around the waist. “Hear me out.”

  The small quakes in her body shook his to the core. She stared vacantly at him.

  “Listen.” He gently touched her cheek so she’d focus on him. “I will never run away from you again, and you will never run from me. What you experienced back there is your mind trying to heal. There is nothing to be embarrassed about.” She blinked, but remained silent. “We got over it. We—got—over—it. And we’re going to do it again and again, until the demons are gone.”

  She covered her face and shook her head.

  “Kayla Katarina Banks, I want you safe. If it means being with me twenty-four seven, that’s what’s going to happen. Besides that,” he grinned at her even though he felt weak, unsure, “your present is at my place.”

  Okay, an amateur’s tactic at best, but what the hell could he do now that he’d stepped over the line in the sand. Wrapping her in his arms and loving her for the next fifty years came to mind with lightning speed, but what struck the deepest chord was the distance he’d go to protect her.

  Her eyes cleared and focused on him. “You bought me a present? A real Christmas present?”

  She sounded like a little girl, as if unbelieving that someone would do that for her. “I picked it up overseas. When I saw it, I thought of you.” His stomach twisted into a knot watching a hopeless expression creep across her features.

  Letting out a deep breath, she said, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do. If you just let me work through Christmas, I’ll be all right. I promise.”

  “Kayla, let’s drive over to my place, pick up a few things, and then I want to stop by the base and get my present.” He paused reading her resistance. You’re slipping fast, SEAL, but when it came to Kayla the slope was at a hundred and eighty degree angle. “Give me tonight and tomorrow. You and me. Thane and Kayla.” He watched her take a nip from her bottom lip then gnaw on it. Thank God in heaven—for once she was going to give in.

  She’d acquiesced to letting him stay with her. Expecting to be put in the guest room last night, she’d surprised him when she’d plunked his bag on the floor at the end of her bed, then left him to change. No words. No sultry look. No backward glance at all.

  A grin cracked his lips when she’d walked out of the bathroom dressed in pure white flannel pajamas, neck to toes covered, delivering her message loud and clear. It didn’t do a damn thing to squash his desire, though. Kayla was the softest, warmest woman he’d ever known, and sleeping with her in his arms on Christmas Eve was the best present he’d had since he was seven.

  At two in the morning, she began to fuss in her sleep and it woke him. She moaned as if she was in pain. Her words were unintelligible, but he could hear the distress in her tone. Tears slid down her face, and she fought something back with her hands as her breathing labored.

  Sweeping her curves with a gentle touch, he tried to calm her and kissed her cheek. “Sweetheart, I’m right here. You’re safe.” Her fingers forked with his, and the tremble in her hand eased. “Ms. Banks, you’ll never know how much tonight means to me.” She didn’t wake, but she squeezed his hand. Although he couldn’t help the raging hard-on pushing against her back as he cuddled her, he was more concerned about his little mermaid. Her dreams weren’t peaceful they were tormented, and now he knew why.

  Before allowing himself to drift off, he waited, gazing down at her until she fell into a deep sleep. Christmas was about miracles, and she was his. “With every cell of my being I love you, Snow White.” He whispered the words close to her ear, hoping somewhere in her dreams she’d hear him.

  * * * *

  “That smells amazing,” Thane said as Kayla sat a cup of coffee in front of him.

  “It’s a cinnamon apple soufflé. It’s my mom’s recipe.”

  He lifted the coffee cup to his lips, and his eyes glued themselves to her sweet, shapely ass as she walked back into the kitchen. She’d woken him at oh-five-thirty hours to tell him to report to the table, but his nose had already picked up the sweet cinnamon and sugary scent in the air, and it smelled heavenly. How she’d escaped his arms without him waking up this morning was another wonder. He hadn’t slept that soundly in years.

  Putting her Christmas breakfast on his number one spot of friggin’ delicious, he pulled her onto his lap when she tried to collect his plate. She certainly was a hard nut to crack, but that’s exactly what he intended on doing. “Well little girl, tell Santa what you want for Christmas?” he teased. Bringing the beautiful glint back in her eyes, his prime objective.

  She pushed her chin in the air. “How about a very sexy, brawny SEAL sitting in my living room, with a bare chest made of marble and totally honorable intentions?”

  “I can give you three-quarters of that.”

  She swatted him and placed his mug of coffee back in his hand. “Come on, Santa, time to open the present which is no surprise at all.”

  He followed her and they sat cross-legged on the ground around the tiny tree erected in her living room. A profound sadness still hovered about her, but she was trying her best to hide it from him. “You don’t stand a chance keeping any secrets, especially presents. I’m a good guesser,” he warned her.

  “No, you’re a good interrogator.”

  He shook the small box she passed to him. “Sorry, don’t know what you’re talking about, ma’am, but you can try again next Christmas.” She darted her eyes away and the smile he’d managed to pull from her dimmed. Ignoring a lick of dread, he placed her present in her lap.

  “Bigger than a bread box,” she said. “Can I shake it?”

  “Maybe a little,” he said, pulling the ribbon from his gift. She truly did have the face of an angel. The thought made Lapierre jump into his mind and he hated the guy for coining it first. Okay, he hated the guy for other reasons, too.
Kayla’s hands drifted across the paper, feeling for clues with a childlike curiosity.

  His fingers stripped the foil wrapping from his gift, then popped open the box. White gold cufflinks gleamed up from a blue velvet case. The links were embossed with the SEAL trident and the insignia of a Commander below it. “I love them, Kayla.”

  Her face brightened with a smile. “You didn’t look at the back.”

  His heart beat faster, wondering what she’d had engraved on them. Turning them in his fingers at the same time, the few words stilled his breathing, and his pulse followed suit. My hero was engraved on one, and on the other My heart. Four little words had never meant so much to him.

  “You saved my life in the desert.” Her eyes rose to his. “You protected it. I never thanked you for that.” A tear escaped, and she swiped it away quickly. She shifted uncomfortably, and blew out her breath as if the words were the hardest thing she’d ever had to say.

  He tore his gaze from her and rose quickly, walking straight out the patio doors to get a grip of himself. Grasping the rail to steady his world, he looked out toward the sea. It was never far away, and had always been his escape, but he didn’t want to escape any more. He wanted to feel, and he did.

  A warm hand caressed his back. “I’ll have it taken off.”

  “No.” He choked back the lump in his throat, and swept his arm around her shoulder, resting his chin against her head. Tears swam in his eyes, and he buried his face in her hair. “I was just remembering holding you in my arms in the desert, and you weren’t moving.” The memory twisted in his heart. “I honestly thought you were dead. I’ve never been that scared or cold before.”

  Kayla turned and hugged him fiercely. “Come on, Commander. Christmas is about happy moments, right?” She brushed his wet cheeks with her palms.

  “It is.” Every minute he spent with her was memorable.

  She nodded and pulled him inside. Sitting down, she set her gift on her lap and concentrated on opening it. Seeing she did it so slowly, it occurred to him it was because it was the only one she had. The meaning behind that chilled his heart.

  All year, she wore the face of optimism. Time after time she did so many things for the team. The baking, sewing on badges or buttons that came off the guys’ gear. She’d even babysat for them, so they could have a night out with their wives. Helping the young boys to strengthen their reading at the halfway house gave her what she didn’t have, children of her own to care for. Why hadn’t he noticed it before? How unconnected she was. How lonely she truly must be. Because you’ve been thinking about your fucking self.

  Sliding the piece of artwork from its case, she gasped. “Oh, my God, it’s amazing.”

  She held up the original piece that caught his eye in Japan with their one-day lay over before coming home. Painted in muted brushed watercolors, the sky and two dolphins played in the ocean while the sea toiled around them. They took note of nothing but the joy of existing, and it reminded him of how he wished he and Kayla could be. “Mace told me you collect artwork.” He looked around at her walls. I think it should go above your bed.” Only he would know the creatures represented the two of them and his deepest desire.

  Not prepared for her attack, she nearly bowled him over. Kayla was in his arms again and the moment was too precious to end. He rolled her onto her back and gazed down at her. Lurching up, she kissed him sweetly on the cheek.

  “Thank you.”

  “There’s something else,” he said, reaching into the tiny tree and bringing out an envelope.

  Kayla sat back on her haunches and opened the card to read the words he’d written late last night.

  Kayla,

  You are truly my Christmas angel. The warm summer’s breath on my face. More beautiful than autumn when the leaves change to a golden color and fall to a green covered earth. Your heart allowed me to see the world isn’t as ugly as I’d come to believe. My only wish is that you will always believe in me….and you can believe that I’m going to run your ass off in the new year, because I want you healthy, happy and near me for a very long time.

  She shook her head, grinning. Leaning back on her palms, she eyed him. “I’m not going to make a very good recruit.”

  “The first thing I need to do,” he said, switching to his knees, the eyes of a predator with his target in line of sight, “is assess my objective.”

  “Huh?” Her eyes rounded and she sprang to her feet, but he had her in his arms with two steps.

  “Although you do look exquisite in flannel,” he said, wanting to follow the curving mounds of her breasts with his fingertips, instead his lips blazed a trail down her neck. “My mom and sister are going to kill us, if we’re late.”

  “Commander, thank you.” Her voice wavered and then she regained her composure. “I love my present.”

  She turned to look up at him, her eyes so bloody sad. He wanted to tell her he would be with her for every Christmas from now until forever, but he couldn’t, because it might be a lie.

  “It was kind of you to stay here last night, but now you’re going home, and I’m going to work. I’ll be all right.”

  She was tossing him out! A rebellious cadence drummed in his chest. How the hell did this get so backwards? “You are not staying here by yourself,” he said stiffly.

  She rounded the couch. “I made a mistake. I probably just left the door open myself, Commander. I have to get ready for work.”

  A shudder of foreboding grew inside him. “I’m not willing to take that chance.”

  “It’s not your call,” she tossed over her shoulder.

  Fuck, this woman could piss him off to no ends with her stubbornness. The thought of tying her down shot into his mind, but that led to other thoughts and he ground them away. “Like hell it isn’t,” he said, chasing her down the hallway. She scooted around the corner, the bathroom door locking as he entered her bedroom. He pounded on the door. “I’m not going to debate this through a door, open it.”

  The shower began to splatter on the bathroom tiles. He groaned with frustration, for a couple of reasons. Swinging around, he spotted a hairpin sitting on her dresser, and worked the lock. It popped open in a second and he entered the steamy room.

  He stopped—his heart pounding loudly as he saw the rivers of water wash down her curves. Shampoo covered her hair and the soapy suds streamed across the peaks of her nipples, and down the supple flesh under her breasts. Christ, she had the most beautiful rack he’d ever seen as she arched back under the spray of water. The thought of seductively nursing them until they pebbled against his tongue, hardened him.

  What the hell was he doing? She hadn’t invited him in. God, he wanted to step in that shower with her. Touch her, lick her until she came apart in his arms. The steam dampened his bare chest, and he imagined the feel of her skin against his. His mind saw her pushed against the wall, their hips grinding together, filling her with his shaft, and it made his entire body vibrate. Quietly, he stepped back and closed the door.

  Both hands threaded his hair as he tried to control his breathing. A sword of lust stiffened him beyond reason. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he redirected his desires. Still locked in battle with his erotic thoughts, the minutes slipped by and he jerked, feeling her bare feet touch his. With a slow, upward swing of his eyes, he found her standing before him in a towel, her wet curls clutching her cheeks. He groaned audibly. Drawing her into his arms, he swung her onto the bed. His eyes skated to her covered breasts. “Are you testing my resistance? Because I can assure you, I’m going to fail.”

  She stared up at him, then swayed her head.

  Everything faded away except her essence. Grasping her hands, he stretched them above her head. He’d never wanted to tie a woman up before, but the urge almost had him pulling away to find a scarf to do just that. “You’re going to be late for work.”

  “No, you’re going to get dressed and drive me to work.”

  “There’s only a towel between me and what I want.
That’s not much of a defense, Ms. Banks.” His breathing intensified with the licks of passion burning the edges of his resolve. The hell with turkey dinner, she was what he wanted to devour. The scent of oranges and cranberries wafted from her delicate skin and filled his senses. His lips kissed the seam of hers to open, to taste her. She was the forbidden apple, and he desired a bite. The hunger to sheathe himself in her shattered his restraint. When he opened his eyes, hers looked back at him nervously. “This connection between us is never going to go away, Kayla. Unless one of us leaves.”

  “That’s what I intend to do.”

  Shrapnel, bullets, nothing could bring him to his knees, but her words did. She wasn’t talking about today. She was talking about forever. “What?” With one heave, he curled her into his arms and cradled her in his lap. The towel unraveled and she clutched it closed. “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes, Commander, I am. After the new year.”

  “Is this because of what I said to you the other night? I lost my temper. I didn’t mean any of it.”

  She looked him squarely in the eyes. “It’s time for me to move on, Commander. You never wanted a woman to work in the center. I don’t belong here. I’m screwing up your life. I have to leave.”

  “Bullshit. Is this about Lapierre? Has he been in contact with you?” he growled.

  She gave him a meek smile. “He’s always in contact with me, Commander.”

  “Goddamnit.” He slid from under her and began to pace the room. “He wants you to come back, doesn’t he?” When she didn’t respond, he knew he’d hit the target. “Why aren’t you with him now? Why isn’t he here?”

  “Because I told him not to. He knows what this time of year is like for me. He understands.”

  “Why does he know and I don’t?” he shouted. He was losing it again as she sat calmly watching him.

  “Because he’s not my boss.”

  He grabbed either side of the doorframe, every muscle tensed ready to rip it and the nails from the wall. Thoughts tripped over themselves in his mind, but there was only one thing he needed to know. She said she loved him in the desert. Did she really? For months, he’d clung onto those words like a drowning man. He couldn’t even look at her when he asked, “Are you leaving because you love me or him?”